Early years

From the time I have my earliest memory I knew my mother didn't love me. It was hard to understand as a 3& half year old, but as a kid you just know it; you feel it in the total disinterest in you. Not feeding you not clothing you properly, not caring if I wandered around on my own looking for something to do, anything to keep me away from her & the boyfriend who used to delight in tormenting me. I remember once being bashed & thrown against the caravan walls because I refused to call him Daddy. I knew he wasn't my father even at that young age. One of his favourite party games was putting out his cigarettes on my arms, yeah what a real charmer! Mother was never any help as she was either of her face on drugs & she just didnt care, she loved him & I was just in her way. She wished I'd never been born she used to tell me, I ruined her life, she should send me away to the little girls home where all the bad& horrible girls like me belonged.