I Live In Poverty
I remember my childhood being basically happy until I was about 10. Although my parents were both professionals who made good money, by that time all three of my sisters were in college and my older brother had been in the hospital for a year, so money was tight. I remember my classmates laughing at me for wearing the same pair of red pants every day for a week. I asked my mother to buy me some new clothes and she told me I should be grateful for what I had, that she had grown up during the Depression and she remembered kids who had holes in their shoes, etc.. I was born when my parents were in their late 30's and was different from my peers, whose parents were mostly Baby Boomers who didn't mind maxing out their credit cards to buy their kids designer jeans and sneakers, etc..
By the time I was in high school, we were better off financially. My parents had new cars and my brother and I didn't have to wear our cousins' ill-fitting hand-me-downs anymore. Unfortunately, by that time I was battling episodes of suicidal depression. I thought it was due to my unhappy family situation. My parents hardly spoke to each other by then and my mom often alluded to wanting to commit suicide to escape her unhappy life. I worked hard to make straight A's and was accepted to college a year and a half early on the basis of my SAT scores.
When I got to college, I found that my unhappiness followed me. I became so depressed that I couldn't concentrate on my studies and failed my first year.