Part Three:

My father was never a part of my life. He lived close by but he never showed up in my life. I never met him. Don’t even know how he looked like, before he died. Don’t have a single photo of him.

Early on, in Elementary School, I couldn’t sit still. Every day I was given a pill so that I could sit still. It was a stimulant, most likely Ritalin, the pharmaceutical treatment of choice for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). I also developed the symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and performed many rituals designed to neutralized danger. I had frequent accidents at bed time.

I was bullied a lot, kids on the street. I was a target for bullies. Why- I didn’t know. There was very little that I did know. With almost no attention from anyone at all, I had no way to see myself, no mirror to look at. I didn’t know how to act, how to be, what to say, what to do.

No eyes cared to see me. No eyes for me to look back at and see myself.

One day I happened to hear some kid casually saying that I was adopted and that my sister was my mother. I agonized over whether I was my sister’s daughter and whether the woman I thought was my mother, was not. I asked… and was told that what I heard was a lie. I turned inward more, more withdrawn than before.