I don't remember the exact chronology of things but I know I was 8 when shit really hit the fan, even though things were brewing before then. Since I can't really recall what happened before or after I'll just focus on the crux of it.
I remember parts of the day, though not in so much detail. It was a weekend, a Saturday I'm pretty sure. I remember I was pissed that the best thing on was an Aladdin musical which I detested. My mother was on edge and I knew it so I was trying not to set her off. Despite that, I did something I suspected might piss her off, but was hoping wouldn't. I don't really remember what it was but I suspect it was changing the TV channel.
That was it. We began walking to the police station. Since we didn't have a car, we took the bus or walked. Mostly walked. It wasn't that much of a walk, about 30mins away. When we arrived at the station, my mother walked up to the counter and in matter-of-fact manner told the officer there that I wasn't her son, that she found me a few years prior and had pity on me and has looked after me ever since but no longer wants to do so.
After a few minutes the cops took me aside and basically said "She's your mother, isn't she?". After asking me that and taking me to another room I saw my mother sitting down and waiting. She had a look of hatred on her face while she looked at me. I remember thinking how pissed she was. I remember being told that she was sick and was going to the hospital to be taken care of.
I remember how confused I was at how long it was taking for her to get better because no one explained she had a mental illness, something which I was capable of understanding. Instead, they said she had something along the lines of a flu. For the next 8 years after this point, my life was mostly a roller coaster, a shitty shitty roller coaster that I didn't even want to be on in the first place.