Me part 1

You are here

My childhood is best described as angry and uneventful and no lasting friendships were made, including with my adopted siblings. But I wouldn’t want you to think every day was dreaded. The area we lived in was semi-rural, populated with lush market gardens, and a child could walk down the street and lean over to pick a carrot or a lettuce. No one knew or cared. And there were carefree days running along the tops of matted pine trees, windbreaks for the fields below. Most nights were as ordinary as everyone else’s, the radio and its serials being the centre of entertainment - and the couple provided me, my older brother and my much younger sister, with adequate food and shelter for which I am grateful.

We adopted ones were not the only children the couple cared for. They later fostered two other children for short periods. My teenage memory is of an aboriginal boy of about 13 who stayed with us for a short time before disappearing into the beyond, and another younger fostered child who stayed for a short time. I think additional income was the reason for looking after these additional children.

Unfortunately I didn’t enjoy school and after being expelled for misbehaviour at age 15, I left my adoptive home and shared a relatively exciting bohemian life-style with young housemates in arty digs around Carlton. But the new freedom had its price. Agitated and confused, and suffering from low self-esteem, I began the long slide into drug and alcohol abuse.

 

My childhood is best described as angry and uneventful and no lasting friendships were made, including with my adopted siblings.