Hi Roadrunner.... In a perfect world of course I wish they'd been able to get me help, but they were dirt poor Irish immigrants, there wasn't really any autism awareness in those days even if they could have afforded it, and besides, I presented in such odd ways (as a lot of girls continue to do, even today) that I don't think there was anything they could have done. It would be obvious to any educated observer now that I was auty, but back then I was just weird.

My mother was amazing. She was fiercely bright, but tragically suffered from her own spectrum of pain and died when I was nineteen. Well, I say died, I mean killed herself.

She had an amazing gift for perceiving the pain in other people, and turning it to the good. She did a lot of voluntary work with other immigrant women when I was a kid, teaching English as a foriegn language... it strikes me funny that I'm doing the same thing now myself.

Anyway, yes, my life might have been easier with the right treatment when I was younger, but it wasn't available. All I can say is that my fiercely bright, beautiful and loving Mum did the best she could, and I've had a better life because of her devotion to me.