Just previous to the birth of my little son, my mind gave way and my child was born in the asylum for the insane at Stockton, Cal. My boy was buried there.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
When my father died, I was living in England. It was very traumatic that he died when I was away.
When my father passed away and then when later on I gave birth, those are sort of ground-breaking experiences that put everything else into perspective.
When I was a child, I felt at times that I had been born into an insane asylum, that much of human life appeared to be an insane asylum. It was bewildering.
When I had to bury my child, I probably didn't start grieving until a year and a half later.
I was there at the birth of my son and had the extraordinary feeling when I first saw him of thinking this was the first person I would willingly die for. I had the same strong feelings when my daughter was born.
Disease, insanity, and death were the angels that attended my cradle, and since then have followed me throughout my life.
Three days after my brother died, my father was in the hospital. He just did not want to live anymore. Before, he was fighting and loving life.
When I was young, my brother David and I were farmed off to foster homes, and I spent time in orphanages. My father abandoned us. Here's the most important person in my life, and I never met him.
Before it was decided that I was going to be adopted, my mother was going to abort me. I was born with tangled legs; they never thought I'd be able to dance... without knowing it, as a child I overcame a lot thanks to really doting, loving parents and a great family and a hard work ethic on my part.
Growing up, we didn't have anything. My mum wasn't well, so I was in three care homes then foster homes before me and my little brother went back to her. I was passed from pillar to post.
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