I was born in the early 1980's in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was the fifth of six children. I have two older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger sister.
When I was born, my parents were approaching divorce. It took a few more years and some failed marriage counseling before it finally happened. We were living in a big yellow house on a street that ended in a cul-de-sac in a growing suburb south of Salt Lake City. I had lots of friends and spent lots of time playing outside no matter if it was the middle of summer or the dead of winter. I loved my mom and dad and idolized my older brothers and sisters.
My little sister and I were referred to as the "kids." That always drove me crazy. I have a limited number of memories before the divorce that I would categorize as pleasant. Family was a big part of our lives. We did everything together and spent a lot of time with relatives as well.
My family were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and part of what we believe is that families will be together forever. So as divorce approached, you can understand how devastating this was to not only my mom and dad, but my brothers and sisters too. I remember fighting, yelling and stomping around our two story yellow house. I remember that when my dad got home from work everyday, things just hit the fan. Things progressed until finally it became too much for both my mom and my dad.
In the fall of 1987, my dad moved out. They were separated for a while and tried really hard to work things out. As the custody battle waged, things spiraled out of control. Then as winter ended in 1988, my life was swallowed by the very jaws of @#!*%.