Page 33.
My mother returned from the South Pacific in 1945 an alcoholic. I think she may have gone to AA for a very short time but then stopped going to meetings and stopped working the steps. She stayed abstemious from alcohol for most of her remaining life, except for the last year or few, but she wasn't happy about it during that 30 plus years. When an alcoholic can't drink, but they haven't learned the devices by which to live a functional existence, then they become even more dysfunctional, if that's possible, and it is. This phenomenon is called a "dry drunk". Meaning the person isn't drinking or drugging, the "dry" part, but their behaviors and actions are those of an active addict, the "drunk" part.
Jane then became addicted to speed and Valium during the 1950's, '60's and '70's. Many housewives did the same thing at the time. Doctors didn't realize the side effects and so prescribed those happy, little pills with reckless abandon to any and all housewife who asked. But Jane really had fun with them. She had an absolute ball.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Just Another Story. My Mother's Life #5
Page 32.
My mother and father married in May, 1950 and had their first child, my oldest sister, in September, 1951. Jane would have 4 more kids, with me being the last, in 1961. She resumed working outside of the home and attending school when I was very young. She taught for a short period when I was quite little and would get get her M.A. in childhood education from Case Western Reserve University in the late '60's, but rarely worked after the mid-1960's due to deteriorating mental health status and debilitating physical health issues.
My mother and father married in May, 1950 and had their first child, my oldest sister, in September, 1951. Jane would have 4 more kids, with me being the last, in 1961. She resumed working outside of the home and attending school when I was very young. She taught for a short period when I was quite little and would get get her M.A. in childhood education from Case Western Reserve University in the late '60's, but rarely worked after the mid-1960's due to deteriorating mental health status and debilitating physical health issues.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Just Another Story. My Mother's Life #4
Page 31.
After Jane returned from the South Pacific in '45, she became a social worker, a profession at which she was successful. In late-winter 1950, Cleveland experienced an horrific blizzard. Some older Clevelanders still remember it and talk about it. My mother was stranded at work as the street cars were unable to move. A co-worker remembered that she had an acquaintance who had a hearty work truck and she phoned him to see if he could pick up Jane and drive her home. That truck's owner would become my father, Bernard. My parents married May 21st, 1950. Jane was 31 and my father was 43. Neither one could predict what would hit them. If any 2 people should never have gotten married, it was those 2.
After Jane returned from the South Pacific in '45, she became a social worker, a profession at which she was successful. In late-winter 1950, Cleveland experienced an horrific blizzard. Some older Clevelanders still remember it and talk about it. My mother was stranded at work as the street cars were unable to move. A co-worker remembered that she had an acquaintance who had a hearty work truck and she phoned him to see if he could pick up Jane and drive her home. That truck's owner would become my father, Bernard. My parents married May 21st, 1950. Jane was 31 and my father was 43. Neither one could predict what would hit them. If any 2 people should never have gotten married, it was those 2.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Just Another Story. My Mother's Childhood #3
Page 30.
At some point in her late teens, one of her aunts did take my mother in for some amount of time. In Cleveland Heights High School she excelled. She was in the world renown CHHS choir and was also on swim cadettes, performing in The Great Lakes' World Exposition of 1937. She attended college, possibly graduating from Cooper School of Art in Youngstown, Ohio. She also dated one gentleman "David" heavily and married him, allegedly to prove to her aunt that she was a "good girl". After "8" months the marriage ended and was annulled, for reasons that no family folklore knows. But further mystery reasons, Jane kept his last name. After the split, they both proceeded to join the army. My mother was a WAC and served in the Philippines under MacArthur. "David" died in service. My middle brother is allegedly named after him. (But it's equally possible that his name was Jeremy and that I'm named after him.)
As usual with Jane, some of this is conjecture, some probably happened and some maybe not. As stated in previous blogs, my mother was a pathological liar. So, I take any and all of her biography with a grain of salt. I know for fact that she was approximately alive from 1919-1984. Those are the only undeniable truths. Now-a-days I see the humor. I do believe though that today's biographical information is possibly close to the truth.
At some point in her late teens, one of her aunts did take my mother in for some amount of time. In Cleveland Heights High School she excelled. She was in the world renown CHHS choir and was also on swim cadettes, performing in The Great Lakes' World Exposition of 1937. She attended college, possibly graduating from Cooper School of Art in Youngstown, Ohio. She also dated one gentleman "David" heavily and married him, allegedly to prove to her aunt that she was a "good girl". After "8" months the marriage ended and was annulled, for reasons that no family folklore knows. But further mystery reasons, Jane kept his last name. After the split, they both proceeded to join the army. My mother was a WAC and served in the Philippines under MacArthur. "David" died in service. My middle brother is allegedly named after him. (But it's equally possible that his name was Jeremy and that I'm named after him.)
As usual with Jane, some of this is conjecture, some probably happened and some maybe not. As stated in previous blogs, my mother was a pathological liar. So, I take any and all of her biography with a grain of salt. I know for fact that she was approximately alive from 1919-1984. Those are the only undeniable truths. Now-a-days I see the humor. I do believe though that today's biographical information is possibly close to the truth.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Just Another Story. More About My Mother's Childhood
Page 29.
My mother lived in an orphanage during her entire childhood. She knew she had a very large family and that nobody wanted her. Her many relatives lived in various phases of financial comfort; meaning: some struggled and some didn't. The family was spread around the country, but most were in and around Youngstown, Ohio, the Hungarian immigrant family's American home. Many years after Jane's death, some family members would claim that nobody took her in because they knew that she was well-taken care of at Bellefaire, Cleveland's Jewish Orphans Home. They claimed that the family didn't have enough money to take care of an extra child as these were the depression days. Only problem with that theory was she was nearly 11 when the Depression began and, as already stated, there were some wealthy family members who could easily have taken in another young mouth.
There's little doubt in my mind that nobody took her in because of the shame and embarrassment her illegitimacy brought. Also, I believe her personality disorders already began showing their fangs when she was a young child. People simply didn't want to be around her, even her family. That would never, ever change.
Of her 8 aunts and uncles, only 3 was she very friendly with. Coincidentally, or not, they were all single. Aunt Ida and Uncle Joe lived together their entire lives. And Uncle Lou was gay, though at the time, pre-1970's, that was a secret. There were a couple of other aunts and uncles whom she kept in touch with. But the rest...well very little or no communication that I know of. She had equally erratic relationships with her numerous cousins.
My mother lived in an orphanage during her entire childhood. She knew she had a very large family and that nobody wanted her. Her many relatives lived in various phases of financial comfort; meaning: some struggled and some didn't. The family was spread around the country, but most were in and around Youngstown, Ohio, the Hungarian immigrant family's American home. Many years after Jane's death, some family members would claim that nobody took her in because they knew that she was well-taken care of at Bellefaire, Cleveland's Jewish Orphans Home. They claimed that the family didn't have enough money to take care of an extra child as these were the depression days. Only problem with that theory was she was nearly 11 when the Depression began and, as already stated, there were some wealthy family members who could easily have taken in another young mouth.
There's little doubt in my mind that nobody took her in because of the shame and embarrassment her illegitimacy brought. Also, I believe her personality disorders already began showing their fangs when she was a young child. People simply didn't want to be around her, even her family. That would never, ever change.
Of her 8 aunts and uncles, only 3 was she very friendly with. Coincidentally, or not, they were all single. Aunt Ida and Uncle Joe lived together their entire lives. And Uncle Lou was gay, though at the time, pre-1970's, that was a secret. There were a couple of other aunts and uncles whom she kept in touch with. But the rest...well very little or no communication that I know of. She had equally erratic relationships with her numerous cousins.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Just Another Story: My Mother's Birth
Page 28.
My mother, Jane, was born illegitimately, in 1919, into an Orthodox Jewish family. Her mother, Yetta, one of nine children, was, allegedly, the rebellious one. Yetta also had some serious cognitive and psychological issues, possibly caused by physical abuse at the hands of her father. Though, he was the community shochet: a highly trained and very well respected male who ceremoniously slaughtered the animals to be properly kosher and fit for consumption by Jews.
At my mother's birth, she was immediately placed into an orphanage and Yetta was then institutionalized for the rest of her life. She died in 1985, outliving my mother by one year. Absolutely nothing is known about my mother's father, though he may have been a soldier going off to WWI. (Jane would have been conceived in May, 1918 with the armistice being signed that November.)
Right here, I should inject that some of what I write about my mother (and father) is gleaned from much family folklore. My mother was a pathological liar in addition to her other numerous psychiatric diagnosis and personality disorders. It's in talking with distant relatives over the course of decades that my family has created some sort of possible biography. However, what the real truth is, no one will ever know.
One definite truth though is it's difficult to overstate how much shame, embarrassment, trauma and drama an unwed mother would have brought to her family in the Orthodox Jewish community in 1918. Try to imagine it even today. If you're unfamiliar with Orthodox Judaism, replace that denomination with today's strictest, most puritanical Evangelical Christian, Mormon or extremist Moslem. Indeed, in some Islamic countries today, death of the unwed mother-to-be at the hands of her own family, occasionally makes the international news.
My mother, Jane, was born illegitimately, in 1919, into an Orthodox Jewish family. Her mother, Yetta, one of nine children, was, allegedly, the rebellious one. Yetta also had some serious cognitive and psychological issues, possibly caused by physical abuse at the hands of her father. Though, he was the community shochet: a highly trained and very well respected male who ceremoniously slaughtered the animals to be properly kosher and fit for consumption by Jews.
At my mother's birth, she was immediately placed into an orphanage and Yetta was then institutionalized for the rest of her life. She died in 1985, outliving my mother by one year. Absolutely nothing is known about my mother's father, though he may have been a soldier going off to WWI. (Jane would have been conceived in May, 1918 with the armistice being signed that November.)
Right here, I should inject that some of what I write about my mother (and father) is gleaned from much family folklore. My mother was a pathological liar in addition to her other numerous psychiatric diagnosis and personality disorders. It's in talking with distant relatives over the course of decades that my family has created some sort of possible biography. However, what the real truth is, no one will ever know.
One definite truth though is it's difficult to overstate how much shame, embarrassment, trauma and drama an unwed mother would have brought to her family in the Orthodox Jewish community in 1918. Try to imagine it even today. If you're unfamiliar with Orthodox Judaism, replace that denomination with today's strictest, most puritanical Evangelical Christian, Mormon or extremist Moslem. Indeed, in some Islamic countries today, death of the unwed mother-to-be at the hands of her own family, occasionally makes the international news.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Just Another Story. My Mother's Stroke.
Page 27.
My mother died in November, 1984. I actually hadn't lived with her since July of '79 though, because that's when she had a massive stroke which left her severely incapacitated due to physical and cognitive disabilities. I was 17 at the time of her stroke and she was 60. This was the summer between my junior and senior years in high school. During the 5 &1/2 years she lived disabled, in the nursing home, I saw her, perhaps, 10-15 times.
My mother died in November, 1984. I actually hadn't lived with her since July of '79 though, because that's when she had a massive stroke which left her severely incapacitated due to physical and cognitive disabilities. I was 17 at the time of her stroke and she was 60. This was the summer between my junior and senior years in high school. During the 5 &1/2 years she lived disabled, in the nursing home, I saw her, perhaps, 10-15 times.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Just Another Story. Now, A Little About The Banquet
Page 26.
Okay, Now you know the major casseroles I brought to the banquet on the day I was born in 1961. Tourette's Syndrome, homosexuality, an extreme form of introversion and an overly deep sense of feeling. Where to start with the banquet table which was awaiting my arrival...? Hmmmm?
You know what? I'm going to do this in short snippets. It might be easier for me that way. I'm going to start by writing that my father died in February of 1983, a couple of months after my 21st birthday and my mother died in November of 1984, a few weeks shy of my 23rd birthday.
Concerning the natures and causes of their deaths... all in good time...
Completely off the subject, I'd really appreciate it if you tell your friends and co-workers about this blog. If I get enough readers then this blog can generate money and I really need some. Thanks. Jeremy
Okay, Now you know the major casseroles I brought to the banquet on the day I was born in 1961. Tourette's Syndrome, homosexuality, an extreme form of introversion and an overly deep sense of feeling. Where to start with the banquet table which was awaiting my arrival...? Hmmmm?
You know what? I'm going to do this in short snippets. It might be easier for me that way. I'm going to start by writing that my father died in February of 1983, a couple of months after my 21st birthday and my mother died in November of 1984, a few weeks shy of my 23rd birthday.
Concerning the natures and causes of their deaths... all in good time...
Completely off the subject, I'd really appreciate it if you tell your friends and co-workers about this blog. If I get enough readers then this blog can generate money and I really need some. Thanks. Jeremy
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Just Another Story: More On My Life: Overly Deep Feelings
Page 25.
And the fourth thing I was born with which complicates things, to this day, is an overly deep sense of emotion. I don't ever feel "okay" or "fine". And I never have. I've always felt "very"___________ (fill in the blank). And unlike the Torette's, homosexuality and introversion, I couldn't have identified it when I was 15. I didn't know that this was a thing which was different about me.
I remember being about 19 or so and some friends told me that they felt I was very delicate. I then asked my therapist at the time about this. She disagreed up and down, declaring that I was extremely strong, but that I was a very deep feeling person. And that little quirk, on top of an unreal home-life could be misinterpreted as delicacy. My emotions tend to be so far up front that if, for example, I'm sad or lonely, which I was a REAL lot at that time (1981), well... anybody would see me as extremely depressive and easily shattered. In truth, other people have gradations of unhappy or happy. I don't. My life history is that I'm either on top of the world or suicidal. With years though, I've learned some gradations. Not as many as most people have naturally, but I'm absolutely better than I used to be.
Over the years, I've gotten a certain handle on this quality of overly deep feeling when it's become dangerous. I do believe myself to have bi-polar disorder, but a mild form of the illness. And, I've never received treatment for it per se. When some of my depressions have become suicidal, I've gone on anti-depressants. But then I stop taking them when the depression ends. I've talked with psychiatrists about this and they're okay with my plan. Doctors trust my instincts. I know when it's the medication working or when the depression ends all by itself. It's a different feeling.
I'm really getting off the subject right now, just please know that my emotions still rule me. I've never figured out how to be in charge of them, much to my detriment.
And the fourth thing I was born with which complicates things, to this day, is an overly deep sense of emotion. I don't ever feel "okay" or "fine". And I never have. I've always felt "very"___________ (fill in the blank). And unlike the Torette's, homosexuality and introversion, I couldn't have identified it when I was 15. I didn't know that this was a thing which was different about me.
I remember being about 19 or so and some friends told me that they felt I was very delicate. I then asked my therapist at the time about this. She disagreed up and down, declaring that I was extremely strong, but that I was a very deep feeling person. And that little quirk, on top of an unreal home-life could be misinterpreted as delicacy. My emotions tend to be so far up front that if, for example, I'm sad or lonely, which I was a REAL lot at that time (1981), well... anybody would see me as extremely depressive and easily shattered. In truth, other people have gradations of unhappy or happy. I don't. My life history is that I'm either on top of the world or suicidal. With years though, I've learned some gradations. Not as many as most people have naturally, but I'm absolutely better than I used to be.
Over the years, I've gotten a certain handle on this quality of overly deep feeling when it's become dangerous. I do believe myself to have bi-polar disorder, but a mild form of the illness. And, I've never received treatment for it per se. When some of my depressions have become suicidal, I've gone on anti-depressants. But then I stop taking them when the depression ends. I've talked with psychiatrists about this and they're okay with my plan. Doctors trust my instincts. I know when it's the medication working or when the depression ends all by itself. It's a different feeling.
I'm really getting off the subject right now, just please know that my emotions still rule me. I've never figured out how to be in charge of them, much to my detriment.
Monday, August 11, 2014
More On My Life: Sexuality
Page 24.
So the third ridiculous casserole that I brought to the dinner party is homosexuality. I had my first gay crush while in the first grade. Though, of course, I couldn't have identified it as such at the time. But certainly, once I hit puberty, I knew what I wanted, and it wasn't girls.
I was never one of those guys who thought he was straight until age 25. Then he woke up one day and viola! there it was: a preference for men. Nor was I one of those guys who needed to pretend he was straight to make his parents happy, until he couldn't take it anymore. Nope. I was gay as hell right from the start. And everybody knew it. I acted "gay" and you know what I mean: I seemed effeminate, had a gay voice and was poor at sports. There was just no mistaking it and all my family, friends, classmates and anybody whom I came in contact with knew it. As I joke nowadays, Helen Keller would have known that I was gay. It was no joke back then though.
But it still took a back seat to the Tourette's where the teasing from my classmates was concerned. Well... depending upon the day. See, because of my Tourette's I was really in my own category for "freak". There are average outcasts in every school: fags, nerds, spazes and so forth. But my Tourette's was just so outside the realm of experience for my classmates and teachers, I was in my own universe. And put all this in an extremely shy person who only ever wanted to blend into the woodwork. It was a bad dream. But it was real.
So the third ridiculous casserole that I brought to the dinner party is homosexuality. I had my first gay crush while in the first grade. Though, of course, I couldn't have identified it as such at the time. But certainly, once I hit puberty, I knew what I wanted, and it wasn't girls.
I was never one of those guys who thought he was straight until age 25. Then he woke up one day and viola! there it was: a preference for men. Nor was I one of those guys who needed to pretend he was straight to make his parents happy, until he couldn't take it anymore. Nope. I was gay as hell right from the start. And everybody knew it. I acted "gay" and you know what I mean: I seemed effeminate, had a gay voice and was poor at sports. There was just no mistaking it and all my family, friends, classmates and anybody whom I came in contact with knew it. As I joke nowadays, Helen Keller would have known that I was gay. It was no joke back then though.
But it still took a back seat to the Tourette's where the teasing from my classmates was concerned. Well... depending upon the day. See, because of my Tourette's I was really in my own category for "freak". There are average outcasts in every school: fags, nerds, spazes and so forth. But my Tourette's was just so outside the realm of experience for my classmates and teachers, I was in my own universe. And put all this in an extremely shy person who only ever wanted to blend into the woodwork. It was a bad dream. But it was real.
Friday, August 8, 2014
More On My Life: Introversion
Page 23.
I'll get back to my Tourette's later on. But for now, let me write about one more of the four sour-tasting casserole I brought to the table on the day I was born. (This is to imply that I also brought some wonderful gifts and talents with me when I arrived. Those shouldn't be negated. But when everything seems terrible, it's difficult, if not impossible, to see the jewels. And my first 20 years were terrible. I didn't know what a jewel was.)
I'm intensely introverted. I don't mean "shy". Oh... no. No, no, no. "Shy"doesn't even come close to describing it. And it was over the top when I was young. Like my Tourette's, I'm often successful at camouflaging it nowadays on a casual basis, but not always. Sometimes there are real issues.
For example, my introversion has often gotten in the way of holding jobs. I go through jobs and careers with great speed and my fear of people and my need to be alone is a primary reason. Admittedly, there are a variety of colorful reasons why I can't hold a job, but an extreme form of introversion is one of the primary ones.
Also, I've never been in a romantic relationship. I'm now my early '50's and have never had anything related to romance in my life. Bizarre, but true. And the reason is that same, stupid brand of over-the-top introversion which has stood in the way of career fulfillment. To clarify, there are other reasons why there's been no romance, but this is numero uno. Don't get me wrong... I've gotten laid. But that's not what I'm looking for. Some guys only want that. I'm not one of them.
Life-Altering Introversion. Honestly, of all my characteristics, that's the one which is most in competition with the Tourette's to see how badly they can complicate things.
To be continued...
I'll get back to my Tourette's later on. But for now, let me write about one more of the four sour-tasting casserole I brought to the table on the day I was born. (This is to imply that I also brought some wonderful gifts and talents with me when I arrived. Those shouldn't be negated. But when everything seems terrible, it's difficult, if not impossible, to see the jewels. And my first 20 years were terrible. I didn't know what a jewel was.)
I'm intensely introverted. I don't mean "shy". Oh... no. No, no, no. "Shy"doesn't even come close to describing it. And it was over the top when I was young. Like my Tourette's, I'm often successful at camouflaging it nowadays on a casual basis, but not always. Sometimes there are real issues.
For example, my introversion has often gotten in the way of holding jobs. I go through jobs and careers with great speed and my fear of people and my need to be alone is a primary reason. Admittedly, there are a variety of colorful reasons why I can't hold a job, but an extreme form of introversion is one of the primary ones.
Also, I've never been in a romantic relationship. I'm now my early '50's and have never had anything related to romance in my life. Bizarre, but true. And the reason is that same, stupid brand of over-the-top introversion which has stood in the way of career fulfillment. To clarify, there are other reasons why there's been no romance, but this is numero uno. Don't get me wrong... I've gotten laid. But that's not what I'm looking for. Some guys only want that. I'm not one of them.
Life-Altering Introversion. Honestly, of all my characteristics, that's the one which is most in competition with the Tourette's to see how badly they can complicate things.
To be continued...
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Tourette's Syndrome
Page 22.
By any standard my childhood was unusual, and not in a good way. I realize that people have been tossing around the term "dysfunctional" since the early '80's or so and it's gotten to the point that the phrase doesn't mean anything anymore. For the sake of this blog though, let' say that all families are dysfunctional, but they just exist on a continuum. Leave It To Beaver's family would be a 10. Meaning: they occasionally have real problems and some of them never get fixed in a healthy way but most do. And even for the ones that don't get fixed, the family still navigates through without life-threatening psychological or physical trauma or residue. The Manson Family would be a 1. Meaning: drugs/alcohol; manipulation/control/authoritarianism; physical/sexual/emotional abuse; serious long-term physical and or mental health issues; religious extremism; violence. Mine probably came in at about a 2.5. That's pretty severe.
***
I believe that the moment any child is born, they arrive at a table which is already set for dinner. And, as previously mentioned, my family's dinner table was a 2.5/10. That was no Four Seasons Restaurant in New York City. But then, additionally, because life is a pot-luck, each child brings with them certain dishes, in addition to the dishes which are awaiting them. And I truly believe that every child is absolutely born with a distinctive personality (and quirks).
***
One of the casseroles which I arrived with is Tourette's Syndrome. I'm basically a text book case of TS. It was and is awful. I got strep throat in the 5th grade and haven't been the same since and that was the school year 1972-73. Thankfully, I never had the worst of the vocalizations. I had and have moderate forms of that. With me it was primarily the ticks. The entire upper 25% of my body was in perpetual motion when I was a kid. My head ticks, facial movements and shoulder shrugs were very severe. I describe it this way to friends: If you'd stood behind me on the escalator in Macy's, going from the first floor to the second, by the time you got off, you'd have whispered to your companion, "what was wrong with that kid?" I was truly a "Phil Donahue Kid". Do you remember when Tourette's began coming out of the closet in the mid '80's and they were featuring those kids on Phil Donahue? I was definitely one of them, again, with my ticks, not vocalizations.
It was just awful. I had so many fears for so many reasons, and then to have TS on top of that... What was God thinking? It was horrific.
To be continued...
By any standard my childhood was unusual, and not in a good way. I realize that people have been tossing around the term "dysfunctional" since the early '80's or so and it's gotten to the point that the phrase doesn't mean anything anymore. For the sake of this blog though, let' say that all families are dysfunctional, but they just exist on a continuum. Leave It To Beaver's family would be a 10. Meaning: they occasionally have real problems and some of them never get fixed in a healthy way but most do. And even for the ones that don't get fixed, the family still navigates through without life-threatening psychological or physical trauma or residue. The Manson Family would be a 1. Meaning: drugs/alcohol; manipulation/control/authoritarianism; physical/sexual/emotional abuse; serious long-term physical and or mental health issues; religious extremism; violence. Mine probably came in at about a 2.5. That's pretty severe.
***
I believe that the moment any child is born, they arrive at a table which is already set for dinner. And, as previously mentioned, my family's dinner table was a 2.5/10. That was no Four Seasons Restaurant in New York City. But then, additionally, because life is a pot-luck, each child brings with them certain dishes, in addition to the dishes which are awaiting them. And I truly believe that every child is absolutely born with a distinctive personality (and quirks).
***
One of the casseroles which I arrived with is Tourette's Syndrome. I'm basically a text book case of TS. It was and is awful. I got strep throat in the 5th grade and haven't been the same since and that was the school year 1972-73. Thankfully, I never had the worst of the vocalizations. I had and have moderate forms of that. With me it was primarily the ticks. The entire upper 25% of my body was in perpetual motion when I was a kid. My head ticks, facial movements and shoulder shrugs were very severe. I describe it this way to friends: If you'd stood behind me on the escalator in Macy's, going from the first floor to the second, by the time you got off, you'd have whispered to your companion, "what was wrong with that kid?" I was truly a "Phil Donahue Kid". Do you remember when Tourette's began coming out of the closet in the mid '80's and they were featuring those kids on Phil Donahue? I was definitely one of them, again, with my ticks, not vocalizations.
It was just awful. I had so many fears for so many reasons, and then to have TS on top of that... What was God thinking? It was horrific.
To be continued...
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