So the time passes, the time flies.

Yesterday, my ancestors were settling the banks of the Volga.

Yesterday, my great grandfather was returning from the Great War a hero.

Yesterday, my parents had just met in a small restaraunt.

Yesterday, a little girl was just born, with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, but as soon as she could breath, screaming so hard the world nearly toppled over.

Yesterday, I was going to daycare, kindy, drawing, playing with her friends.

Yesterday, I sat on a plane with my parents and flew away to another country.

I went to school there, I got bullied and then I a bully.

My parents went nuts, and I spiralled downwards as well.

Yesterday, darkness came. An all-engulfing darkness, with blue walls with metallic flowers on them, every day, every day, looking at the same thing, locked in my house that's a prison.

Wet puddles with petrol in them and crouching behind the car in the garage so I wouldn't be found.

Knives that my own hand cut my own body with.

Pills that went into my mouth and a belt being swung high in the air. The nurse making me drink charcoal after.

Homelessness. Fear. Cold.

Sitting in the public toilets, writing on my legs, pulling back the dirty school uniform, in blue biro, 'I will never give up.'

Yesterday, I met the one I gave my heart away to. Everything away to, body, heart, dreams. He had huge big blue eyes, a huge nose, thick nearly black hair. He was tall, he was funny. I loved him with all her heart, and I wanted to be with him forever.

Forever sounds like a big word, but I wasn't afraid of forever. The only forever I could be afraid of was a forever without him. Who could worry about protection?

We did it everywhere, everywhere public that is; I had no permanent home, his mother thought I was a prostitute, although I had only being with one guy. One Friday night, beneath a starry September sky in a secret place near the place she boarded at, a Mormon's house, a miracle happened. God decided to save me from the knife and the scissors that I cut my hands with my own hands, and my absolute hopelessness in life.

God gave me a baby.

But I lost her first love. I don't like to remember all the things that happened.

That wasn't yesterday, it was almost like it was a second ago, the pain is as clear as a dew on a leaf in the morning. It's like it wasn't even to me anyway. Maybe it was all a dream. I like to think so anyway. I see those dreams sometimes when I sleep, but not so often anymore.

But God gave me a miracle: my little Alexander.

Yesterday, he was born, his huge scream drowning out everything else, and I demanded that my baby be put into my arms right then and there.

Then time did a strange thing. It became three hour cycles of eating, sleeping, changing. It stopped going at its usual pace, and I started eating again, and sleeping like a baby when I could again, and I had such a goal, I barely had time to dwell on all my goals, I just had to do them.

Yesterday, I got that school graduate certificate. I did it.

Yesterday, I cried on my first night in my own place; we had nothing, just a suitcase full of clothes and baby essentials, a few cans of baby food, and my little seven month old boy sleeping on a sheet on MY mattress in MY room in MY house. I cried, and for a month I barely let the key go out of my hand, I wasn't used to staying in the same place for that long. It was scary. Nobody was going to kick me out or hurt me. I didn't have to hide anywhere. I sat in front of the TV for hours at night with a bowl of cereal, and kept on looking around me to check whether I was in trouble — but I wasn't! I was the head of the household now, and this was MY house!

Or I would sit at the kitchen table for a long time, and nothing would happen. I could walk around my house and nothing happened. I got out of the habit of sitting in a corner of the room for hours on end.

That was the beginning of freedom.