I have made so many blogs and I always felt that there was a certain way to go about writing them. Now I realise it's all up to me and my preferences. I thought I had to go in chronological order when discussing events, experiences, life lessons but I realise now that whatever I feel like writing about that day, I can write about.

I'm giving myself a fresh start with this blog. I will be talking about my life experiences, my daily struggles with mental health, my relationships and also lighter things. I find it best to write in a blog, when I write with pen and paper, my thoughts go so fast I'm hardly able to get them down.

I am studying Social Work. I am in my second year of college and learning so much. I am also bringing alot of life experiences with me. I am a survivor of domestic violence, I am a person dealing with mental illness on a daily basis (anxiety and depression), I am person whose had family struggle with addictions and alcoholism. These things do not define me but they have, in part, made me who I am today. I am lucky to have family support and friends. I have love in my life. I am 25 years old.

I have always felt that I needed an outlet to express myself but I struggle when it comes to talking of others. I feel guilty speaking about other people but I am not doing it in a hurtful way. I just need to be able to speak of things that have happened or are happening. I feel it is therapeutic and writing it down helps clear space in my mind for other things. I'm going to try now to discuss one topic which I've always tried to write down but I'm never able to get the full story out. It won't all be in the first post but I'm going to start.

My parents met when they were 19 and 20. They always told me they met at a party, I know different now, but I will maintain that for the blog. Right away, my dad told my mom they should have a baby and she agreed. A month later, my mom was pregnant. So I've been with them from the start of their relationship which was rocky at best. They were very young, they hardly knew each other and they were about to become first time parents. My dad had anger problems, he never hit my mother but there were a few incidents where he pushed her. His father had anger problems, he was more violent than my father. My dad also struggled with substance abuse for a few years. He finally quit when I was 2 or 3 years old.

 Despite those issues, my father was a hard worker and he maintained his job at a film development company from 19 right up until the company closed when he was in his early 40s. We never had to worry about losing our home. My father provided for us. The first few years were hard for my mother though. He spent alot of the money on drugs, leaving little to take care of groceries and necessities for me. My mother told me that she would have to go to the grocery store and put milk in the bottom of my stroller and hope no one caught her.

My father worked long hours and was not around very much. When he was home, he was either smoking up or sleeping. He was a very jealous man when he was younger and my mother was not allowed to go out much or for very long. Though in later years, he learned to control his jealousy and anger, he was always very anxious and worried. He was always worrying that something would happen to us if we went out or even if we were home. I wasn't allowed to cut cheese for sandwiches until I was 13! I think thats where I get my anxiety from. When I was 3, he had an affair with a woman and my mother found out. That was the first time they seperated but it wouldn't be the last. The affair was shortlived and my dad came home. My mother never fully trusted him again and the relationship became very strained.

I have very few memories of my father spending time with us as a family. I have even fewer memories of him and I spending quality father daughter time together. He was very impatient and he didn't like going out for long periods of time. He liked to be at home in comfy clothes watching sports on TV. I remember being in grade 5 and Father's Day was coming up. My mother was walking me home from school and I looked at her and asked what I should write to my father in his card. I asked her what he wanted for Father's Day. This man was my father and I loved him but I really had no idea who he was. Even now at 25, our relationship is better than it's ever been but I still only know very few things about him.

I think that's it for now.