I can recall back to when I was four years old.
I was a very sickly child spending a lot of my childhood in and out of hospital. At the age of eight I died on the operating table and my short term memory was taken from me, so from then on I could not learn anymore so I became illiterate.
My father was a very cruel, abusive and terrifying person.
My mother was a loving and caring person but had to endure my fathers verbal and physical abuse.
I was allowed to go exploring around our area and to ride my push bike for many miles. I was not told you cannot do any of these things due to my ill health.
My father won the golden casket and he moved out of home. After he left home our family life was a wonderful place to be and we had plenty of food to eat now.