Stories of My Life

By Cristian Botitta

Stories Of My Life will take you on an emotional journey as Cristian reflects on the traumatic events of his life.

Here he relives these events in a series of short stories about his childhood as a young Hispanic boy living in Brooklyn, New York who didn't quite fit in; all the while dealing with domestic violence, bullying, essential tremors and mental health insecurities.

Cristian decided to write this book in an effort to finally free himself of the trauma he's held within. His hope is that by sharing these stories with the world it will help others realize that in the darkest of times they are not alone and help is out there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cristian Botitta
• Release date: Feb 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201527686

Book preview

Welcome, come on in and get to know

Me through my stories

By: Cristian Botitta

Copyright © Cristian Botitta

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any forms or by any other means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

Behind that smile was hurt, pain, and loneliness.

AUTHOR

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My name is Cristian Dario Botitta born on November 28 1979 in Mendoza, Argentina. I’m blessed to be born In Mendoza, Argentina where one of the best wines in the world come from and blessed to be born in Argentina where two of the best soccer players in the world are from Maradona and Messi. I grew up in Williamsburg Brooklyn, New York. I moved to Union City, New Jersey after I graduated high school. I moved to Kenner, Louisiana during my first marriage. After my first marriage I moved back to Union City, New Jersey. Shortly after I met my wife I moved Back to Brooklyn to the Flatbush/Crown Heights area. I currently reside in San Antonio, Texas but will always be a Brooklynite at heart.

INTRODUCTION

Come on in and get to know me through these stories that have impacted my life. Like Bon Jovi said It’s my life, it’s now or never I ain’t gonna live forever, I just want to live while I’m alive. These stories that I decided to share with everyone in this book are for you to know I am here with you I understand you are not alone. For a couple of years now I been thinking about writing a book. Today I’m writing this book which I have named Stories of my Life. While writing this book I felt free that I was finally letting go of what I had inside of me and taking back the power that was taken from me. I hope that my stories will help connect with others who have gone through the same struggles. At the end of each story, I provide advice to those who are going through or have gone through what I have. This book is about two things; opening myself up and introducing myself to everyone and reaching out to every reader and letting them know that they are not alone I understand you.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

❖  DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

❖  BULLIED

❖  LEARNING DISABILITY

❖  HAPPY YEARS

❖  FAMILY BUSINESS

❖  LOST SOUL

❖  BROKEN HEART

❖  LOVE

❖  HOMELESS

❖  JOB – CAREER

❖  DREAMS

❖  MENTAL HEALTH

❖  GOODFELLA

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

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I was born into a family of mental and physical abuse. Thanks to the constant domestic violence that I lived and witnessed at home. Domestic violence consists both of physical and verbal abuse. My mother, brother and I from the moment we woke up to the moment we went to sleep we experienced both physical and verbal abuse from this man. I do not consider this man my father, never have and never will; to me he is just my sperm donor.

This man always had a mad, angry face you would never catch him with a smile. He is a racist, anti-gay, angry and crazy man who believed that it was ok to physically and verbally abuse his wife and verbally abuse his two sons. A man that raises his hand to a woman is not a man. A husband that physically and verbally abuses his wife at that moment he has broken his vows that he made in god’s presence and has devalued himself from a man to nothing. A father that physically and verbally abuses his kids is nothing more than a sperm donor. A husband is someone who respects, loves, and treasures his wife and puts her on a pedestal where she belongs. A father is someone who loves his kids with all that he is, respects them, is there for them, protects them and teaches them about life. Unfortunately for my mother, brother and I he was none of these things to us.

He verbally and physically abused my mother along with constantly accusing her of cheating on him. My mother went to bed crying every night of her life. She put up with way too much bullshit all because she didn’t want us to be without a father. When the truth is that we never had one. My mother was called every degrading word in the book. Some of the things he called her on a daily basis were Mierda, Puta and Basura. He would grab her, push her, hit her, and throw things at her like pots and food. Basically, he never loved her. It gave him satisfaction to know that she was giving him power by putting up with his abuse.

There have been many times when this person would accuse my mother of cheating on him with different men. So many that I have lost count. He has accused her of cheating on him with her boss at the factory, my brother’s gym trainer, clients/vendors that came to the factory and the owner of a deli across the street from the family store. These are just a few of the people he has accused her of cheating on him. There is no way my mother would have the time to cheat on him with anyone unless she got herself cloned. My mother worked hard and loved hard. She worked in a printing factory until we opened the family business, she cooked all three meals for us, she would take my brother and I to the park, she would iron all of our clothes daily, she would scrub his back every time he would take a shower, and when we had our family business she was in the store from open to close.

This is a perfect sign of a person with mental issues because only a crazy person would create these kinds of things in his head. This man definitely belonged in a mental institution. Another example of how he created things in his head is there was this day when it was just the both of us home alone; I was in my room and he was in the kitchen talking to his sister who lives in Miami, when my mom came home, he started screaming at my mom at how I was listening to his conversation via the internet. First of all, there is no way anyone can listen to someone having a conversation on landline via the dial up internet; second, I don’t give a damn what he had to say to his sister because all he does is lie to his family who believes his lies, to them he is innocent and a saint. As I write this book his family still believes he is innocent and a saint. I personally would not have been mad or against my mother cheating on him or leaving him because she deserved and still deserves much better than him.

This man whom I consider to be my sperm donor and not my father he verbally abused both my brother and