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I was never allowed to become a member of the neighborhood gang. I didn’t fit in with the other kids. I tried and tried but was a dismal failure at it.

All the next-door-neighbor kids would gang up, including my sister and bother. They would all tell me to “go home!!”  I went… humiliated… hating and hating and hating myself. I was sure I’d done something weird, but was bewildered. I never had the foggiest idea what I’d done that would make them to so turn on me. This is only one example of what happened in the neighborhood. It was an on-going battle.

There was a play house in the woods behind my neighbor’s house where the kids would play sex games (why they included me in this, I’ll never know). We’d play the “Captive” game. One of the kids would run away and the others would “catch” them. They’d be dragged into the play house and have sex stuff done to them.


One of the ways I found to get out of the heinous situation was to play the piano. I would have loved to be given piano lessons but dad decided he wanted me and my twin sister to be prima ballerinas so he made us take ballet instead. I tried to learn to play the piano… self taught… without lessons. To this day, I still feel sad that I never got lessons when I was still young. It’s difficult to sit down and play, even today. I feel it’s too late to start lessons now because of being this old (I’m almost 60).  Kids are able to pick up on new things so fast. Like learning English. Kids are able to pick up multiple languages effortlessly. When you get older, well… it’s not so easy. In fact it’s pretty damned difficult.

But mom made sure I’d never go any place with the piano. I just couldn’t get the B-Flat note. Every time I’d hit the ‘B’ by accident the mother would holler from the kitchen “B-Flat!” But I think I played pretty good for having no lessons, even if I did keep missing the B-Flat note.  Now I play only occasionally,


I have dissociative disorder. There was a secret game I used to play as a child which I think contributed to acquiring it. I called the game… “Alien”. I’d go outside for a while and wander around to prepare myself for what would come next. When I was ready, I’d come back in the house and pretend I’d never been there before… that I was an alien from another planet and had just come down to earth… to this house… in the last few minutes. I’d look at my environment with totally new eyes, with no history. It was a wonderful game to play and I’d would play it often. It gave me some relief from the constant oppression and abuse for a little while. Then mom would break the spell. She’s say something like… “What is going on with you?!”

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