I was the happiest kid in the world at 10. I had a huge variety of friends and lived in a tight neighbourhood where all the kids would play every day and overall just had a great childhood. Life was good. Until I moved. Into what my parents considered a much better situation, primarily because we moved from a small apartment to a huge house. The first year was absolute hell. I was depressed every single day. Until my negative train of thoughts led me to become friends with some very bad people. Yup, the next 15 or so years were filled with drugs, fights, deaths and very valuable life experiences.

It's not like I don't appreciate who I've become, I turned out just fine. But it wasn't until a few years ago that I finally got my shit together and if I had a time machine, I would not hesitate to go back and stop my parents from making that devastating decision.