And so my mom signed us over and my father got custody. He says he found out the judge was going to rule in my father's favor anyway but he likes to make things up so I can't be sure. I actually can't be sure about any of it. If I asked my mother I think she would lie or start crying and I am not into either one of those options.
As you can see it is not an easy task for me to reveal the truth.

It was definitely a good thing my dad got custody of Jill and I. I don't have a fluid memory of living with my mother. I do have a spotty memory of pre-school though. I can specifically remember, like it was yesterday, biting kids. At night time we would all go to our rugs or whatever they were. I would wait until I thought everyone was asleep, which looking back at it now was more than likely no less than 5 minutes. Once I thought everyone was asleep and no one was looking I would find an unsuspecting kid and bite them as hard as I could. I would then run back to my rug and pretend to wake up and be confused as to why their was a child screaming bloody murder. I don't remember any more than that. My mom says I was kicked out of 2 nursery schools for biting and then they just kept me home. Either way, I'd say it was pretty obvious my home life wasn't spectacular. There is a definite pattern of violence and acting out in my childhood.
I said I don't have any memories of my parents together. I do have one. My maternal grandmother used to rent a beach house in Long Beach Island, New Jersey every summer. I don't necessarily remember much of these vacations except for the following. I remember this as clearly as the biting. One morning I woke up before everyone in the house. I walked down the stairs to the basement, like the part under the beach houses, with a screw driver in hand. There was a fully inflated raft on the ground and I stabbed the raft over and over again. I don't remember being in an uncontrollable rage. I just stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it. I swear at one point I remember asking myself, why am I doing this and not having an answer for myself. I don't remember much else of that.
When Jill was an infant she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming. I don't remember this but I used to wait until everyone was asleep, get out of my bed, go over to her crib and hit her or something like that. Apparently, everyone caught on when one night they came into our bedroom and Jill was grabbing my hair holding me there as evidence as the nightly terror. For the rest of my childhood and well into my teens I would continue to treat my sister like shit. I took everything out on her. She was the good one and I was the bad one and I hated her for that. It is my single greatest regret. Our relationship remains unstable and volitle, no matter how hard I try.
And so my dad got custody of Jill and I. We lived in a small apartment in Elizabeth, New Jersey. Not the the best part of town. I started kindergarten there. At the time my dad had a girlfriend, Patty. She was 17 when my dad started dating her. He was 27. This is where my father's dating patterns began. To think about that now makes me want to vomit. It is seriously beyond disgusting. I can totally see why Patty dated him. Her father had died when she was very young and my dad was older, good looking and a bad boy (i guess). My dad dated Patty until I was 8 years old. I think they started dating when I was 3 or 4. I don't ever remember him without her. Anyway, Patty's mom watched children for a living, including Jill and I for the first year or so my dad had us. Half way through kindergarten we moved out of Elizabeth to Cranford, New Jersey into the apartment above my paternal grandparent's house. We would spend the next 5 years in the house my dad grow up in and tried his damnest to get out of. Oh, the circle of life.