Autobiography part 1

This is part one of an autobiography written as an assignment for a counseling session. More to come later.

It was early in the morning on Palm Sunday when I was born. I was a rambunctious baby from the day that I was born, and usually cried all night. I guess that you could say that I was a mama’s boy, crying mercilessly at all hours until I was held. Even as a child when my mom was working the graveyard shift at a telemarketing company, I would wait on our stairs until early in the morning when she would come home. I was fortunate enough to be watched by either my grandparents or my parents at all times, and my mom even gave up her career to stay at home and baby-sit, even though that meant very little income coming in. She made a little bit of money baby-sitting, but it was always important to my parents to spend time with their children, even if that meant working late, and giving up all but the necessities. I attribute the fact that my brothers and I were always ahead in subjects at school because of this, always having a parent or grandparent around to tutor us. Some of my earliest memories are with them, learning math from flashcards, learning how to read, write and spell, playing chess and checkers, and reading passages from the bible and praying together. No matter what happens to me to this day, I know that I will always have faith in the Lord because of my positive upbringing.

. I had a wonderful childhood, but that’s not to say that I didn’t have my problems. I knew from early on in grade school that I was different from the other children, somehow, becoming enraged when I didn’t perfect things to my liking. I always accomplished what I had set out to do, but in the process drove myself crazy from being so meticulous. I would beat myself up both mentally and physically (e.g. pounding my head on my desk or punching myself) if I didn’t achieve what I had set out to do. I always felt that I had to be the fastest, smartest, and best at everything that I did, and if I wasn’t then I felt like I had failed. I also obsessed over how I looked, making sure that I had the coolest outfits and shoes, and had to have everyone like me. It wasn’t until after I graduated from high school that I found out I was bipolar, and it was the all-or-nothing thinking associated with it that made me this way. I spent most of my time as a child playing with either my brothers, the neighborhood kids, or the kids that my mom baby-sat for. Grade school flew by without many problems for me, aside from the trouble that I got into trying to impress my friends and have fun. I always grew bored very easily, and the only reason I feel that I didn’t get into more trouble than I did was because I always had awesome teachers that I didn’t want to let down. That’s enough about my school life for right now, though.

When I was in the first grade, my parents purchased a fishing and hunting store, and owned it (or more like it owned them) for the next 11 years. For a kid that loved to fish and hunt, there was nothing greater! Sure, there were days that we would get up at 5 or 6 a.m. to open up shop that I didn’t want to wake up, (especially having had trouble sleeping all my life) but we would take blankets and pillows, fall asleep in the back room, and then get up and play nearly all day long. My brothers and I always managed to stay busy there, rollerblading, skating, and riding bikes in the archery range or outside, watching t.v. in the back room, tossing around paper footballs, and occasionally waiting on a customer or two by dishing them up bait from the tanks and ringing them up. Even if we grew tired of playing, there was always someone interesting around to listen and talk to. I could fill pages and pages with all the amazing people and experiences that we drew from that store on a daily basis.