My story isn't a happy white fence family with a dog kind of story. I was born in October 1990, into a drug using and abusing family. My biological parents were users and dealers of illegal narcotics before I came into the world. And they didn't stop when they found out I would be born soon.



A local bar owner noticed there was something wrong with our 'little family' and ended up calling the authorities. They took me away and placed me in a home. After changing homes they found me a family willing to take care of me. A family with already five children of their own. I was 16 months old when I met them, and they took me home.

Since that day they're my family, my home. I have four big brothers and a big sister who care about me as much as they care about each other. I was fostered. Here in Belgium that means the biological parents still have the right to visit you and even take you home for a weekend or so.

When I was three, my biological father disappeared out of my life and I only heard him once when I was about 18 or 19 years old through a facebook message he sent me. I never replied to that.

My biological mother wasn't planning on leaving me be though. She still came to visit or I went to her place. Needless to say that didn't went all too well. I didn't like to go, to me she was a stranger. The foster care service that was responsible for my well being didn't do shit to help me as a child at all. At times I came home with a black eye from 'falling' as the excuse goes.
They still forced me to visit her. At one point they even insisted that I, as a young child, needed to visit my 'mother' who was imprisoned at that moment. Thankfully the judge denied that request.

When I was 10 or 11 I had to visit her at her studio apartment where she had her boyfriend and friends come over to smoke weed. When my parents came to pick me up I was so happy to leave, and maybe even a bit high, that I ran into the glass door. At that moment I told them I didn't want to go see her anymore. Because of that I had to meet the youth judge. I was 11 years old and terrified of everything that went on in my life; I was anxious, depressed.. Because I had written down everything I wanted to say instead of actually saying it out loud, they put me away.
I was sent to a mental hospital for a month. That time has torn me as a kid, as a person. It still brings me to tears whenever I think about those four weeks of hell. There were kids who got admitted because they self harmed, or where very aggressive towards others, kids with mental illnesses etc.  I was just a scared kid that didn't belong in such a place.

She visited once. And she was drunk as fuck.

It was my first year of high school, and during my first year, after my admission, I was scared of everything. I was scared to ask for help to teachers, friends, anyone. Most of the time I wouldn't get out of the car or ran away from school so my parents had to take me back home.

I was forced to seek a psychologist because I still didn't want to see my biological mother. The first thing my psychologist said was "there's nothing wrong with you, it's even a good thing you have such a good relationship with your parents". Since then I've seen four different psychologists and a therapist when I got diagnosed with depression before I turned 18. Yet they all told me I wasn't the one with the real issues and I felt like someone finally listened to me.

Years gone by and the visits still went on, at least when she made an effort of showing up. I was diagnosed with depression when I was about 15 and had to take anti depressants. I felt like a loser because all those years I would crawl back out of the hole without any help. Even as a child. And now I couldn't. I started self harming and couldn't care if I'd see another day.
The only thing that kept me from not killing myself were my family and friends. I wanted to be there for my little niece who I still hold so dear. And at that moment I knew I still had to fight.

I went back to the judge. Since I was over 14 I was allowed to have a lawyer by my side (foster children have the right to a pro bono lawyer here in Belgium). Mine was a very understanding and nice lady who did everything to help me.
Finally I had my say. Finally the judge listened to my side instead of the foster care services.

When I was 16 I broke off all contact. I never saw her again until last month.

I'm 24 years old right now and I finally, officially, became a family member. Last December (2013) I contacted a lawyer and she helped us out getting me adopted.
It took a year to get through all the paperwork and one hearing at court but it happened. My last name has changed to my dads now instead of my biological fathers.

Even though it means a lot to me to have my name changed, even if it didn't happen this is my family. This is my home.