This is the first chapter of my new book, The Alphabet Syndrome (including Attachment Disorder)

I was the middle child of a family of three girls. When I read all the criteria of what a middle child can be, I guess I see similarities. I grew up "different" from my family, leading sometimes in my preteen years to wondering if I really belonged to these "other normal" people, or perhaps I was secretly adopted. Of course none of those ideas were true. It transpired that I truly descended from both sides getting I guess the healthy deposit of entrepreneurial genes from both sides as well as the "finding every lame duck there was" genes as well. My mother once commented that if I found a stray horse, I would bring it home. I did bring kittens, dogs, and underprivileged children home. I remember wanting a birthday party, oh around eight or so, and my mother saying it wasn't possible that year, and then inviting my whole class for "afternoon tea" (an Australian saying for snack in the afternoon).

I also remember that my two best friends in primary school, were both just a little different like me. One of my friends was Elaine, who like me, was just a little out there, different, enthusiastic, going to become "something", although we didn't know exactly what. I recall her playing guitar, something I really envied, and us singing "The Little Blue Man" of which the only part I was allowed to sing was exactly that, "The Little Blue Man". "I wov you I wov you" that was it!! My other friend, was Carol, who came from a large less affluent family from mine and whom I felt I had to protect from what I still don't know. There was another "friend" and I say that like that because I along with Elaine was elected to tutor her in English in seventh and eighth grade. She never spoke. Me, I became very frustrated wondering why someone would not speak, not look at you, not answer, not respond, but Elaine, she had a lot more patience or whatever with Eddie. I know now, she probably was on the PDD scale, either Autism or Aspergers. It makes me cry now to know I didn't or to be realistic could not help her. She was lost inside herself, and there was no understanding at that time of what I call the Alphabet Syndrome.

Of course, both Elaine, Carol and I were products of the Alphabet Syndrome, but so little was known about ADHD, OCD, ADD, Autism, Tourettes, Bi-Polar, Learning disabilities, like Expressive Receptive Language Disorder, Dyslexia and all it's muted forms, CP, PDD, Mood Disorders, and many other issues I have dealt with in my journey into fostering and adopting children. Little did I know that even in my youth, the Good Lord was teaching me for what I would do many years down the road. Myself, I know, am at the very least ADHD, a "little???" OCD and can become frustrated and fleetingly depressed when challenged by situations I do not understand. I want the world to move as fast as I do, and on another planet understand not many people do. Hence, I am ultra organized and sometimes do not understand why other people aren't. Of course that only relates to my house not others. I really don't care about how other people keep house, I care about their friendship, but something deep inside of me needs MY house to be tidy and organized. Alphabet syndrome? Oh yes and I do know that, and daily have to seek guidance how to overcome, tolerate, and live life to fullest. We maybe born with inherrant traits, but, through Christ, we can change and learn how to manage our nature and what it leads us to do, whether that is with medicine, prayer or a combination of both.

I have always had my "foot" in my mouth. I remember, vividly, being about oh, four or five, on the back steps of my parents home, and the baker delivering the bread. "Our Daily Bread". Funny isn't it, because home delivery is such a thing of the past. But there he was with our daily loaf, and my mother and the baker were exchanging pleasantries when I suddenly looked down, and blurted out in a very loud voice, "Mum your legs need shaving!". My mother was mortified and I really didn't know where that thought came from other than I was bored and it just popped right in my head and at the same time was coming very loudly out of my mouth. I recall many incidences like that and to me they were normal, but to the rest of my family, it was a little strange. I got used to it. I always sang, in fact when I was four, I informed all around me that they would "pay to hear me sing". It was a joke until I was just seventeen and was cast in my first professional role in the theatre as "Ado Annie" in Oklahoma. Some things, although not understood, are there, born within, and just need the right person to understand, relate and bring them to life. Everyone has talents and abilities, some are obvious, some are hidden. All of the obvious ones are not necessarily the ones that God honors, sometimes it is the hidden deeds, the sacrifices made when no one is looking that is most precious to Him. On earth, we think in earthly terms, needing earthly praise, needing to rise to the heights of what we think the earth desires, or expects of our abilities, or our aspirations. When we “fail” we are seen as being unsuccessful and yet, perhaps that failure was tied to being famous, which is entirely not related to being successful. So many times, like myself, someone has an ability which is obvious, like singing, or acting, or public speaking, or even rising to the heights of the business world, and yet becoming famous for those gifts and abilities is not necessarily relating to success. Success is not always about being famous. It is succeeding in the task or goal that you have personally set and achieving such. Just because you are not famous, does not mean you have not succeeded in the task you set out to do.

I look back at my friend Elaine, who had rocky teenage years, and was not understood by many, and yet she had the intuition, the compassion inside her to comfort our friend Eddie who lived in a silent world. Yet, most of people I know, felt “Elaine” had made mistakes, to the point of perhaps disgracing her family in those 1960’s, but she had a depth of grace for Eddie that I did not. I didn’t envy Elaine in her patient understanding of what was entirely frustrating for me. I was gregarious, my mouth spilling over, as was Elaine’s, but she had a depth of understanding and ease with Eddie, that I simply did not. It has come back to me in these later years when I am having to deal with Aspergers syndrome in one of my own children and still having to overcome the same feelings of frustration and anquish that I did way back then.

Now Carol, my less fortunate friend, was not Elaines cup tea at all. She just did not relate to someone who did not wear clothes as nice as she did, who did not seem to have any apparent talents such as backing her up in the “Little Blue Man”, and although shy, was not silent or unable to communicate like Eddie. And she didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t adore Elaine for her guitar, and singing as well as her HORSE!! Elaine owned this magnificant if not somewhat wild, stallion, a pinto, that she and I rode almost every afternoon after school. Elaine, truly was my hero in those days. She seemed invincible, and able to do all the things I longed to do. Sing and play guitar (I did achieve that a few years ago), ride wild horses, and have wild dreams. Her parents seemed to understand her, even indulge her, and I envied that so much in those young naieve years.

Yet my parents, in their infitine wisdome on which I draw from today, knew to keep a “rein” on my wild side. While I plodded along, got good grades, attended singing lessons, and most of the time felt I was being held back from some amazing dream that was waiting for me, Elaine ran off to the islands to experience all that was exciting and came home just after she was seventeen with a baby, and no daddy who cared to look after them both. Carol, because of her large, less fortunate family, did the same thing. Got married way too young and had children before she could ever find out who or what she was to become. I did find Elaine again when I was older, I have yet to find Carol and I often wonder about how things turned out for her. Did she ever find herself or did she get buried in the day to day of life and children and lesser opportunities. Eddie? She is the one I wonder about the most. What ever did become of her? Oh, if only I could go back to my youth and have the knowledge that I have now of the unfortunate circumstances of birth or the misfortune of neurological disorders that even today are still not understood, maybe, just maybe, I could have done better.