Basically, my early childhood is wiped from my mind. I have few memories from before 7 years ago, when things started going downhill. 7 years ago my mom started using heroin again. My stepdad figure moved out and left me alone wit her, up until we ran out of money to afford the apartment and we moved to NY with my biological father.

Shortly after we got there, my grandfather died and, as a result, my dad caved to my mom's addiction. They both started using heroin all the time, only leaving their room really to take my money and to buy more heroin. It was, naturally, scary for me as the utilities started going out in the house. More-so when my father hid me from Children's Services, and I don't really know why he did other than to keep me a few more weeks to find whereever else I hid my money.

It came to a point where out family was stealing to eat and nobody had any money. At this point, they sent me away to live with the aforementioned stepfather figure. I lived with him for a few months and my parents sold our house in NY and used the money to get to me in OH. I, naively, moved back in with them in our apartment. My uncle and his girlfriend moved in too, and from there the fear of physical abuse always existed.

I was very lucky. I've never been physically abused in any way. But seeing my uncle get drunk and punch his girlfriend just put me in a place with a ticking time bomb. My parents didn't care, of course. They were too busy arguing all the time and using various drugs.

Eventually the money ran out again and they decided the best thing to do was sell all of my possessions. When they realized this wouldn't cover the rent for that much, they used the money to get more drugs and basically lost the apartment and everything in it. Now, this caused me to lose my dog, the one remaining constant in my life. Without my dog and no way to distract myself as all my books and games were sold, I was just constantly living in reality, which was terrible.

I moved in with the aforemention stepfather figure again and stayed there until my mother moved in with her daughters father, my half-sister's father. She forced me to move back in with her and threatened legal action if I didn't.

So I moved into the basement, which was the only room that I had. I was living with her again and now this other person, we'll call him Greg. Greg is an emotionally abusive dry drunk. He is screaming almost the entire time he is talking. I think he may be physically abusive to my mom, but unlike my uncle, I never saw anything.

While this was happening my dad, while not on the road with my uncle now selling stolen goods, would have to stay in this apartment as well, in the basement as well, and sit there with me on drugs almost all the time. This was my situation when the next thing happened.

This is either entirely relevant or nonsence, depending on if you've felt the same. I fell in love.

The falling in love itself was completely terrible for me. Up until then, I rejected all emotion because it was illogical. I built my life around logic. And then came this feeling I couldn't ignore and couldn't repress.

I literally went mad

The week following this feeling is not remembered by me at all., I had to change everything I thought I knew about the Universe to accept this feeling. But eventually I did.

And I asked her out. And she said no.

And I was crushed. Everything was terrible. If I wasn't such a coward, I wouldn't be here today. I held so many pills in my hands so many times. But I could never get myself to do it because of my fear