My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I wondered, is this a dream and I am still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?
