I grew up in a toxic home with an abusive step dad and an uncaring mother. My outlet was sports. I ran a 4:14 mile. I pushed myself to my very limits as an escape. I played football. Another escape. I had scouts watching me play wide receiver and corner back as a freshman and sophomore. Sports was my release and I excelled. Outside of sports I was not allowed to do anything or go anywhere. I was essentially a slave to abusers. They wouldn't allow me to be with my girlfriend and now wife. I ran away. At 16 I left sports behind to drop out and enter military school. An 8 month program to allow me to graduate school and be with the love of my life and escape them. She knows why I did what I did and what I gave up, but she's always taken that for granted and had never appreciated it. Don't get me wrong, she's great. It doesn't sound like it, but she is. I can't put it into words. She just lets these things go over her head for some reason. I quickly entered to work force. I started out making peanuts. At 18 I began factory work which actually paid decent money because I learned to drive industrial trucks. I'm now a paramedic. There's a lot to my story and OUR story. Searching my post history to find a smoking gun really isn't going to earn you anything.