For as long as I can remember, I and my mom were quite frequently on the move. During my early infancy, we lived in Connecticut with my dad while my mom’s family lived in California. Soon after my dad took a job in Alabama and after a couple of months, my mom gave him the ultimatum that we live together as a family or she goes back to California with me. My dad picked the first option. But soon after living in Alabama, my mom discovered my dad was committing adultery and moved her and me back to California for family support and did so all on her own. Later, my dad tried to reconcile with my mom and we lived together in California for a while. While in California, we moved from Orange to Anaheim, for better job opportunities. It was then discovered that my dad had abused me, so once again I and my mom moved, this time for safety and familial support. My parents divorced and we lived with my aunt and uncle for a while until my mom found us our own apartment. After being in this apartment for about two years, my mom started dating a man and eventually became engaged to him. We then moved into the condo that he lived in and happiness was maintained for about a year. Then troubles started, which would soon create a cycle of moving in and out that would go on for about nine years. They would fight, I and my mom would move out, rent, or lease a place for a year and by the end of the lease they would make up and we’d move back in with him. This cycle finally ended when I tried to end my life while he was home. My mom got us out of there and never looked back.