First Memory

So where to start? This has always been a major problem with me, I have so much to say that it all gets jumbled and I forget where I'm at. I'll try with these blog entries.

I thought, where better to start than my very first memory? This may be troubling for some, I know remembering it is troubling for me.

I have no idea how old I was at the time; we had left my father so Iwas two and a half, maybe three years old. I remember me, mum and our alsation, Chainsaw, being packed up in the car and long drives so it may have been on our way from one side of the country to the other. It could have been some other drive.

The house in my minds eye reminds me of the place the movie, House. You know, the horror movie where the dead army comrade of the father comes and drags the kid back through the mirror to the swamps of 'Nam? It's probably just my childhood memories playing tricks on my actual memory, but what I remember next is as clear as day.

I was alone in the back room, which was my play room, when mums boyfriend burst into the room. He was yelling and mum was running behind him screaming. Then he threw something. I'm not sure what it was, I know it was mine and that I loved it. He might have picked up a chair from my favorite table n chair set and threw it at my blackboard. I just remember whatever it was broke and it upset me.

Mum yelled some more, Chainsaw came to the rescue and the next thing I knew, we were back in the car with all our belongings.

That was not the last time, either.