abhair iadsan ceas croi páiste

If you don't like the incoherent mumblings of an heartbroken teen father than press the back button as quick as you can before you get drawn into the story. It's not a happy story but it's mine none the less.
This is all i really know.
My father was a fairly popular rocker in the Dublin area that was addicted to multiple drugs at once, he dated this one woman for about a month or two but left her when he found out she was pregnant. Her name was Sinead Swinton known as 'sickening swinton' she was a groupie, drug addict and all around free spirit. She planned to get an abortion but for some reason didn't probably because of the Clique of Modern hippies she was around and later became. She continued her smoking,drinking and shooting heroin through her pregnancy. She went into labor at 7 and a half months and shoot a needle before she had us, that's how addicted she was. She had My brother Frankie and I on September 21st 1990. Frankie was 4 pounds and 6 ounces and I was 3 pounds and 4 ounces. I was obviously the weaker of the two with a breathing deficiency because my lungs were not fully grown and I wasn't expected to live past the first week. Surprised them huh? Frankie was bored with webbed feet and I was born with a missing pinkie on my left hand, a breathing deficiency, a longer leg than the other and later Colorblind-ness which doctors believe is related to birth defect. We lived with our mother for the first 3 years of our life, she kicked her bad habits after we were born and joined a group of modern hippies to end the war between the English and Irish in Belfast. She went to a rally one day and never came home. She was shot in the chest and killed instantly. Almost immediately after her death our aunt {who also lived with us} called Child Services and had us put in an orphanage. A catholic orphanage named Saint Anne's where us and about 100 other kids lived. Needless to say there wasn't a-lot of money and the English kids were favored tremendously, there were only a few of us Irish, The British punishments would include a ruler onto the knuckles and the occasional belt while the Irish kid were told to stay the next few nights outside. No I am not lying I would not lie about this.
They called my brother and I 'The Terrible Twins' and we soon proved to much for them to handle so we were put into a foster home service. Over the next 3 years we were swapped over 16 times and that was even worse than the orphanage, many of the foster parents were abusive or addictive and some of the stories I have about them are to terrible to remember nor write about. By 9 we were adopted by Alexis Lennox our mother. For the first time in our lives we had heat, hot water, a warm bed, food and love. Needless to say we felt like we hit the lottery, we truly did from having nothing to everything we could ask for and that was the real feeling of love, someone caring for you unconditionally, not beating you not even screaming at you no matter how stupid you were, Someone that wants nothing more than to make you happy.
There is a-lot more. I'll update later.