I was an odd sort of child---never really fit in, was inattentive in class unless it was a subject I enjoyed, had depression and times when I just wanted to die and make my mother pay for the way she treated me. She was something of a narcissist, and I think she was probably every bit as bipolar as I am although she would never have gone to a psychiatrist.....according to her, there was no such thing as mental illness.

I got really depressed after my grandmother died when I was 13. I was taken to different doctors and given different kinds of pills, though I don't know what they were, probably some form of antidepressant. One kind made me sleepy, another made me nauseated, still another made me wired. After about a year I got better on my own and actually did very well through the rest of high school. I found a group where I fit in, and my grades got much better. But I was never terribly popular, and I spent a lot of Friday and Saturday nights dateless and at home.

I think I've always been about 15 degrees off "cool". It doesn't matter now because I am growing old and I don't care what people think of me anymore.