On today's edition of the peripheral, we're going to do something a little different.

So if you are just tuning in now, you might want to go back and listen to other episodes

because that's more of the theme of the show. But today's theme is people have

asked me to tell my story. I've already recorded this twice and I'm feeling how my guests feel.

Weirded out and afraid. Don't know what to say. My first recording of this, I didn't think it

came out the way I wanted it. I felt like I actually was sort of depressing and jaded, and I didn't

want to come off that way, so I decided to do this over. I grew up in Southern California, my brother, my sister, and my mom and dad.

My biological father was in jail or prison at the time I was born, or at least that's what my

mother tells me. I don't know if he was actually in jail when I was born or if he was in and out of jail. And so she just left him.

My biological father, I guess, was a drug dealer and would run LSD and marijuana from Kansas City to California.

My mother left him for obvious reasons,

but she'd already had three kids with the man.

We moved to California.

My earliest memories are of Southern California.

My mother remarried to a man named John,

who adopted us three children.

So I call him my father and not my stepfather or whatever.

But my mother and him would get divorced, didn't get along, whatever the reasoning.

I never really asked once they separated, we moved out,

and my father lived in downtown L.A. and I lived in, like, Westlake Village. And we would see him

on the weekends. After a little while, got a little bit older, and sister and brother would start experimenting with drugs, start dating, what have you.

My brother is five years older than me, and my sister is two years older than me.

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