How I started being !

I was born on a splendidly colored , rather cold and windy yet an ordinary night in Fall roughly 22 years ago in Madar hospital ( Mashad) , to be exact on November 23d of 1985 , I thank any one responsible for giving me this chance , be it God or my parents. It should have been a very mysterious feeling then, I suppose I am pretty much used to it now , feeling my existence for the first time in a family of four. Second to my brother only after a year , I sometimes felt like an added burden on an already busy couple. My parents working conditions had us constantly moving from one city to another for my first years of life. They both worked, which meant I had little time to enjoy their companionship.
I remember this old woman, she was as ugly as she could , but kind like a mother , taking care of us when they were not in . A s a child I could never bring myself to love her. One thing which had until recently subconsciously bothered me about my childhood was my unfairly minimal share of pictures in our family album ; I had two or three pictures I think , Now ,though, I laugh at how childish a concern it had been. As a child I was never taken seriously, that can give me a clue why now I am so desperately trying to stand out. Not being taken seriously, at least how I viewed things then, made me effort doubly. If I am not jumping to a hasty conclusion I owe whatever I am proud of today to that “then perceived as bitter” period . On the other hand, I never lived like a child ; my mind was where big ambitions were being cooked . In a sentence: My childhood was spent dreaming of my adulthood maybe because I thought I would then attain what I deserved. However, I now feel the loss.