I am tired of surviving ,I want to Live…….

So,,my brother and I had to experience a couple of different foster homes . I don’t recall why for the most part of it. I can imagine with what we had been through there was some nightmares and some behavior issues with me. Maybe ,they didn’t know how to deal with me or with my brother also. I don’t understand that at all. All that we needed was a lot of love and understanding for the most part. While we were going through all of this I had became very ill. I would run high fevers for no reason and back then they would just put you in bed and pack ice all around you ,to break your fever. One of our foster mothers was very nice to us. We got to go swimming and go to the ocean with her daughter and her. I felt like I had a family setting and it was nice for a change. I still missed my mother and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t with her. I thought that she didn’t want us no more maybe because I was bad or something? At this point in my life I started to react to what had been done to me sexually, i didn’t know any better. Nobody ever told me that what had happened to me was wrong at all. I couldn’t understand why it happened to me anyways. So, because of my acting out that made me having a stable home very hard. I went through a lot of foster homes because nobody would sit me down and tell me it was wrong but instead they would just throw me out like trash. I think I was around the age of nine when I was with this one foster family and my foster parents were very mean to me. They would lock me in the basement to do their laundry and ironing while they were out with their son at dinner. This one time I was in the basement and I thought I smelled smoke, I tried to get out of the basement door but it was locked or something. So, I opened the basement window and climbed out and ran to my social workers house. She had asked me where they were and I told her I wasn’t for sure. She had called them and told them I was with her. They were coming to get me but she met them at their house so she could investigate what happened. When, she had entered the house she went to the basement door and they had a chair under the doorknob to where I couldn’t get out. Needless to say I had got removed from them that day. I was so happy that I was going to stay with my social worker she was an older lady and very kind. The next day I had another home to go to, I felt so out of place. This place was worst than the last one I was just in by far. Our foster dad would touch all the girls in his house and family. I got lucky that he didn’t do it to me. I know that I didn’t have to stay there long at all. I was now around the age of ten. It was getting harder for me to get a foster home because of my problems now. So, the next step was being put in a girls and boys home. There were a lot of boys and girls that were similar to me, which made it a little easier to adjust to. It was very different there and a whole lot of rules and regulations. I was not happy at all, I started wanting my mother more and more. We had different levels there at the home, so  everything was based on your behavior. By, now I had started to rebell everything they were telling me. And again I started to become very ill. I kept getting Mono, which was from tonsillitis. I was so sick and contagious that I couldn’t eat or be around anyone or they would get it. I started running away all the time because I wanted my mother and not them strangers. I ran away and every time I did they would take away my privaledges from me such as my visitation with my mother and step dad. I looked forward to seeing them and doing things with them.