Well, I went and read about "A Boy Named 'It.'" While I haven't read the book itself, from what I have read about it it doesn't seem to reflect my experience. Of course, if I actually read it in the future then my opinion might change. And yes, "feral children" is the term I was trying to come up with. People like Kaspar Hauser.

And it's important, I suppose, that at least at my conscious level now, I do not blame my parents. Underneath it all I probably am completely outraged by them and what they did and did not do. But consciously, no. They always intended the best for their children (I'm the eldest of four brothers). They just had significant (VERY significant) problems of their own. Problems that prevented them from giving their children what children desperately need (and, usually, at least from normal parents, do actually receive). All of my brothers and I reached adulthood with very, very serious problems, despite the fact that both parents were very, very highly educated, cultured people.

Some of it may well have been inherited. I really have no basis for so concluding or otherwise. I have no training in psychology or genetics. All of my grandparents, without exception, seemed to me, growing up, to be completely normal individuals. Though, of course, the problems had to come from somewhere.

My original reaction to your first post was so excited because I've never before been able to react in that way. That was a first for me. I was in therapy many, many years ago. None of it worked in the slightest. I knew something was very wrong, but I was so lost that no therapist could reach me. Three weeks ago I started therapy again, for the first time in 25 years. This time I think that I've crawled out of the dungeon sufficiently to participate in my own therapy, to ask questions, to be able to bring dreams to my T. All of which was impossible before.

Of course, I was never a "feral child." It's just that, looking back now, I know that because of what I went through, very early on, I had to shut out all human contact with my real self. I had to (and did) conform to everything my parents wanted. The price of not doing so was absolutely impossible. So the person I was, as a child, amounted to a monstrosity consisting solely and only of what my parents wanted, with no consideration whatsoever of who I felt myself to be, of what I myself wanted, of what I myself needed. There was no conflict, because I had buried every single bit of my real self so deeply that I had no idea that "I" really existed other than in my parents' desires.

I've previously said to other people (and correctly said) that I've never felt lonely in my life. And that's the truth, unless somewhere under the concrete, somewhere with which I have yet to get in touch, there is a loneliness that I now only conceive of in a totally abstract, intellectual manner. The only safety was in solitude. The ONLY safety. From about the age of 1 or 2. I always wonder, when reading in the newspapers about prison experiences of solitary confinement, at why people would find it so difficult, even provocative of psychotic reactions. I could do it, as they say, standing on my head.

I've read quite a lot of developmental psychology, starting in the seventies. All of Bowlby except his posthumous bio of Darwin (which I'd LOVE to read, Darwin being a favorite of mine too). Ainsworth. And their followers. And some self psychology too. Stolorow, Kohut and such. And they've contributed to the slow, terribly slow, process of digging myself out from under the concrete. All these people have helped me. I could not describe exactly how, but they have.

I don't know if you know, even vicariously, what it feels like to start a life as late in your biological existence as I have. I relate to all those three-decade prisoners liberated by DNA who've spent all that time in prison without being guilty. But I don't get a million dollars after coming out of confinement. And it doesn't matter. Real life just by itself does feel good. Even if real life is just beer, cheap liquor, cigarettes and food that tastes good even if it's not healthy. And the love of a good woman, because my wife does love me (as I love her), and she is a good woman. (We've been together for over 40 years now.)

Well, I think that's about all for right now, though I hope that we'll have an exchange for quite some time. I apologize if my rather excited first message to you was off-putting. I couldn't help it. I'm very interested in the kind of program that you're in, dealing with "recovery" and all that. That's certainly where I am now and will probably be for a while. So. Take your time. Adjust to PC. And when you do have a moment, please respond. Thanks!