DYSFONK
And So It Began.
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I was born at 1:35 in the morning of September 30th, 1967.
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Actually, that's already jumping ahead of myself. It began at my sister's birth, when, two years prior, on September 11th, 1965, doctors found my mother's petrified twin inside her own uterus, and removed 90% of her ovaries along with it. Most likely, they said, she would not bear another child.
Well, two years later, she gave birth to me, the 10% man.
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You'd think the world would reward such determination; I should have learned my lesson then, as no, I began my life homeless, or better, in the hallway corridor of the hospital, where for my first 36 hours, my mother and I waited for a room.
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My mother, 26 years old at this time, had been suffering from an unbeknown illness since she was about 18, causing her much pain, about twice a year. The doctors were puzzled, and since we were in the hospital, they went right back at it, trying to figure it out, finally diagnosing her with Ankylosing Spondylitis, or Morbus Bechterev. I did not know this at this time, but this serendipity of my birth, and my mother's diagnosis would become one of my life's anchor points.
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I went home alone. That is, with my grandmother, and my godfather's wife. For the following 6 weeks, I was without my mother. No room. No bonding time with mom. What did I rush down here for? And with so much intent that I overcame the minor obstacle of no ovaries to welcome me.... Makes no sense. But here I was.
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"Everyone You Meet Is Fighting A Battle You Know Nothing About. Be Kind. Always." -- Robin Williams
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Why am I writing this. And why are you reading this?
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I am in the autumn of my life, and I am still unable to understand, to reconcile the volatile discrepancy of my life. I am blessed beyond measure. I am ethereally rich like few in their time. I really think so; no, I know so. I was able to see, feel, experience, hear, and taste the most wonderful things: countries, places, people, concerts, food, and kinship. Most of all, I was given the gift of extraordinary encounters and conversations, which, I have to admit, cultured my love and adoration of humanity.
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At the same time, luck was not on my side, unless it was saving my physical existence. I never found financial stability, never-mind freedom. I was bullied most of my life, first by my sister, by classmates, and later on, colleagues, and supervisors. I lost house and home, financial creditability, and moved more times than it is healthy for family, and friendships; ending currently in true and real loneliness, aside from my family nucleus.
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Plainly speaking, I never got a leg up, and when I did, it was fleetingly, and butterfly-wing like in nature. I felt its sensation, but more so its departure.
Brilliant to observe, and immobilized by someones touch, equally through love or by malice..