A child from the distant, stars, for some reasons unknown (‘cuz fate’s, way too cruel, a joker, maybe???), her/his “spaceship” had, CRASHED onto the earth…
A child from, the distant, stars, finding it hard, to live down here, on the, planet, knowing, that the far, far away galaxy is, calling her/his name, s/he tried to, talk to those, extra-terrestrial, beings, to connect, but had been, experiencing difficulties, since the start of, preschool or was it, kindergarten.
with great concentration, engaged in the activities that are, considered interesting to no one else but, her own, self…photo from online
And before long, this child from the distant, stars, is outcasted, by those who are, from the, same mold as, “ordinary”, those who are, “normal”…
A child from, the distant stars, will one day, fly up, to the ends of, a distant, galaxy, where s/he will, find others who are, just like her/him, but until, those, nonexistent wings of her/his, start popping out of her/his back, s/he is, tied to, the grounds of this, god damn, planet.
And, no matter how much this child from the, distant stars, longed to fit in, with the rest of, the “general population”, s/he will always feel like, the odd one, out!
With the availabilities of early intervention programs now set up fully, the resources provided for these families, these children have, an equally bright future, as any other child! Translated…
Remembered when my youngest daughter was just born, time flew quick, she’s already, in the, fourth grade now, but, still needed someone around to help her with her daily routines, because she’s, developmentally, delayed.
That day, as I first set eyes on her, my baby of about no more than three kilograms, I’d felt moved, but because of jaundice, she was kept in the hospital for observations, and a week later, I was finally able to, take her home. Her older sister of two years started out in the toddler classes already, with the elders at home watching, I’d, returned back to work. The seemingly ordinary days, got turned upside down as I took her to get her vaccines. Her pediatrician noted how she didn’t match up to the growing curves of the average, and, referred her to the rehabilitation centers, then, to the larger hospitals for the assessments, in the end she received a handicap manual.
Then, we’d begun, on this long hard path of, early intervention, thankfully the shop I worked in was more than understanding, allowed me to only work part-time. Recalled how when we first started in the early intervention programs, the instructor used an assortment of means, to get her to kneel on her knees, to squatting, to finally, using the walker, to help her walk longer. And, day after day, after day, finally, one afternoon, with her, unsteady legs, she’d, stood, for two whole minutes, all of the physical therapists, and I, we were, very, moved, the hard training, finally, paid, off.
programs with the activities that help these special needs children with acquiring the skills they need…photo from online
That same year, she’d, successfully started in the preschool program that was a part of the local elementary schools. And the resources she was in need of, all came, one by one, with the special needs assistant, the instructors who looked after her especially, the physical therapy courses……………and every semester, the school officials would have an IEP meeting. Although, from the start, she was like a soft ball of dough, but now, she is able to speak in simple sentences, can dress herself, and can, feed herself too (although, she may drop the food all over the floors from time to time).
I’d forgotten where I’d read this, “taking a snail out for that walk, you will, see things very, differently”. The instructor advised that my youngest daughter go into the group, to increase her social skills, that it would help her in her future. Because of my youngest, I saw, a different scene, the days before us, is long, I want to, walk with her, toward her next, major, milestone.
And so, this, is on the resources that are now, available to the special needs children as well as their, families too, and, now, the parents wouldn’t feel as stressed as they would’ve been, from years before, because the field of special needs is more developed than before, and so, these special needs children can still, have a full experience of life.
Getting the entire class involved in designing the activities for all, she’d helped the students gain empathy, and made sure that those students with special needs are also, involved in the physical education courses too, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
The Hsinbei City Banciao High School instructor, Yang worked hard to innovate the kinesiology courses, set up the specialty instructors’ group with other physical education teachers in the country, to develop the creative, innovative teaching materials. Through the teamwork, the project-based learning methods, the modules of physical education, incorporating the technologies, helped the students find their passions for the exercises, the sports, and regained their self-confidence, she’d competed in the creative kinesiology lesson plans competitions and won many awards, she had won the Teacher of the Year Award this year for the innovations in teaching physical education.
the coach, with the students in basketball practice!
Other than a homeroom instructor, she’s also, the boys’ basketball coach, the P.E. teacher, also the Kinesiology Science Center’s Seed teacher, gotten involved in the NPDL, the Department of Education’s QPE plans, toured as a guest lecturer, shared her experience, showed her passions in all areas of education.
One of her student, Yen, with cerebral palsy, who’d often, “drove” her electrical wheelchair around the school. Yang-Yang, the visually impaired student who can see no more than six inches before his face, is quite agile, can always dodge the obstacles right before he’d, bumped into them. At a substitute for the special needs instructor, she’d gotten the opportunity to work with these students, and, promised to give them, “a P.E. class for you like everybody else!”
First, Yang used the health and leisure activities to help increase the depth of her courses, to give the students who has her for electives a first hand experience of how the handicapped had experienced things differently, and had the students’ input, in coming up with the fitting physical activities for the whole class to get involved with, through the test trials, the amending the procedural, through the team games, to help the students gain empathy, to having the students sit in the wheelchairs, with the patches covering their eyes, to have the students imagine, the challenges the special needs students may face, and how they’re to, get pass the challenges.
Yang told, that the belief of education she wanted to pass to her students is turning the limits to opportunities, through the creativity of the classes, she’d, set up the what seemed to be, impossible P.E. course.
And so, this instructor not only, taught her kids that exercise is important, in staying health, through getting the class involved in designing the activities that the special needs students can also get involved in, she’d taught them about empathy as well, amazing, this woman, in having her students get involved in the hands-on, to teach them about accepting those who are, different than they are, and that is something, that her class will find useful, even outside of the school setting.
Coming to terms, accepting that her son is a special needs child, a child with, Tourette’s, translated…
At the end of last year, my son was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome. I’d recalled, how I’d gazed toward the clinical psychologist, clearly feeling that I was, splitting into two: a woman in the clinic, stating that she understood what she’d been told in the clinic, the other woman, inside, nodding at how I’d been told that my son’s condition was only of the milder version of the syndrome, that I just needed to help him with his tics, the sun will still rise, the earth will still rotate, life hadn’t, crumbled down yet.
Both women inside and out are calm. Until before bedtime, the young child got into my lap, and asked, “mom, does it mean that I won’t be, normal again?”
The moment following, that seemingly calm heart started, cracking. If I could, I will use my whole life to protect him, but one day, he will grow up, and need to shoulder all of these things on his own. As a parents of a child with Tourette’s my sensible side knows it all but as my child’s mother, I’d felt bad for him.
illustration from UDN.com
Nobody wants to see one’s own child get injured by the outside world because something s/he couldn’t control. And yet, the world gets too cruel. At this time, my heart almost broke into bits and pieces. It was the very first time I’d found, that a mother can be greedy, miniscule, not just wanting my son to be health, but wanted him to have the normal of ordinary people. No need for the hard time, just be, “ordinary”, that was, my third wish before the candles are, blown, out—and, I can’t help but wondered, if I traced to the roots of all of this, are some truths better, not told, if my son has to carry the “label” of being “abnormal” from here on out?
I’d been a mother for more than a decade, and at this very moment, it’d felt like I was all new to this. Not known what I should, do.
For some time later, I’d trapped in that anxiety so deep. On the one hand, I’d wanted to paint over the fact that my son has Tourette’s, and worried that I was only, temporarily escaping the facts; on the other hand, I’d wanted to help my son accept his own special. And slowly, I’d lost confidence. No matter how many volumes I’d read, what’s in the book, doesn’t apply to MY son. I just want to love him right, but, I can’t get the correct answers, and worried, that I may, hurt him again.
But, without the answers, life still, goes on. No matter how lost, how worried, I still had to carry these doubts, continued to make the discoveries.
At the start of the year, I’d, come across this novel. There was a director of a home, sharing the experiences on how she’d taken care of the special needs children, how the kids are like other children, “just allowing them to be their own, selves”. As I thumbed across these words, the tears came——I’d been, kidnapped by the label of Tourette’s Syndrome of my son, and forgotten how special he truly was, with a, unique soul. As for his Tourette’s, it’s only, a part of his should. Although I can’t ask the world to understand him, but I can, help him understand what’s unique, special to just him—from the very start, he’d not needed to “become the other normal”, just needed to “be himself”, and that was, more than, enough.
There are the many obstacles we face in raising our own young. So many challenges, we’d had to spend our entire lives to get through, and, some trials, we may, never be able to, overcome, but for me, the important thing is not getting through the trials successfully, but I’m, ready, to face my son’s conditions with him, with the rest of my life.
And so, this is how you’d, come to acceptance of your own son’s Tourette’s, and, this wasn’t easy, you must’ve gone through a ton of battling with yourself, asked why a million times over, and, in the end, you’d, allowed your love for your own young to guide you.
Children with special needs, that were, mistaken for misbehaving, because there’s not much education of the world on it! Translated…
“Stop winking! It’s ugly!” when my child was in his second year of kindergarten, we’d noted how he would start winking uncontrollably. At first, we took him to the ophthalmologist, had a series of tests, everything was normal, and we were referred to the pediatrics department, and learned, that his winking was due to Tourette’s, which causes his nervous system to give off the signals uncontrollably, which caused his twitching and winking.
As the neurologist made the diagnosis, because my son was still young, and it wasn’t that serious, the neurologist felt no need to medicate him, suggested that we use the exercise routines, establishing a normal schedule, and behavior modification techniques to reduce the behaviors of twitching constantly. We’d worked hard, to understand this originally strange-to-us illness, tried not to blame our son for his inability to control the twitching behaviors, because blaming him for it, can cause him more pressures, and he would start to twitch even more often. For this, we’d discussed it with his school instructors, she used that professionalism, consoled with us, that there’s a higher population of children with Tourette’s now, a lot of the school teachers are more experienced, and will help our son learn normally as possible, to assimilate him into the group of his classmates.
One out of three children with Tourette’s will reduce the prevalence of their twitching behaviors by age eighteen on their own, only a-third of children will continue to twitch into adulthood, but the symptoms are reduced. After all the means, all the measures were, taken, our son started getting better, and the occasional twitch, became, less, noticeable. The path of parents of special needs children is this constant learning, never stopping to support our own young, I hope all the children with Tourette’s can have every help they need, and grow up happy.
And, this is how having a special needs child in your home helps you grow, adapt to the various situations, and, thankfully, this young boy has teachers who’d been educated enough, to give him the positive help that he needed, and helped reduced his parents’ stresses, instead of just slapping that bad kid label on him.
Because she didn’t want any special treatment from her coworkers, to allow them to make excuse for her lacking in performance from work, that’s why she’d kept her special needs child a secret, and now, her coworker knows, but, they’re, together on the same page, and will offer one another the support they are in need of at work, and in life as well now, translated…
Finally came, that long, awaited sun on the weekends, my husband called out to me to gather the items of a picnic, took the kids, we drove to a park in the suburbs. The park was at the foot of that mountain, with a lot of acreage, with a parking lot; the plants there were, kept well, it’s a great place, and it’d been one of our favorite, sites to visit regularly. What’s more amazing was, taking a few turns in the park, there was that quiet corner, with the shades from the trees, the grasses so green, it’s a best place to relax, our, “laziness headquarters”. And yet, someone had already taken up the spot before we’d arrived there, and before we headed to find another place, the kids ran ahead, told us they wanted to see if the treasures they’d buried were still there.
illustration from UDN.com
There was a couple, underneath the tree, with their two children, the boy, about seven or eight, kicking a ball around close by. There was a three, or four year old little girl, with her arms wrapped around her mom’s neck, facing me, with that look of innocence, she’s a Downs’s Syndrome baby. I’d squinted at her, waved at her to say hello, she’d started, grinning ear to ear, then, she looked embarrassed, buried her head in her mother’s chest, with her daughter’s gaze, the mother turned her head, and, as soon as we were eye-to-eye, I saw her smile froze, there was that scent of, hesitation, then, immediately, she’d, called out, my name.
Jen and I worked for the same foreign trade company from before, last year, she was hired from another firm, because she was assertive, and can really work very hard, agile in her interpersonal skills, she’d immediately earned the trust of the owner of the company, and I’d heard, that she’d been put up for a higher up position that was available, she’d, had a smooth sail to the top in her work. Although we’d not really friends from work, but, we were, both mothers, and exchanged the means of childrearing in the breakroom every now and then, but I’d never heard her mentions of a daughter with Downs’s Syndrome. My husband and I walked to the corner opposite, set up the matting for the picnic, and started carrying on in conversation, then, my app started chiming, “Glad to see you by chance, I was wondering, can you keep the secret of my family to yourself?”, I’d felt surprised, I’d originally not planned to tell anyone, but, there’s no shame in having a Downs’s baby, so why would she need to hide it?
On Monday at lunch, she’d asked me to join her. “You can tell, that my daughter is a Downs’s baby”. I’d nodded, before I wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to explain it to me, she’d immediately carried on, “I’m not ashamed of her, I just hope…………”, she’d paused a bit, “to be treated on equal basis at work is all.”
As a mother, I’d understood the hardships of how working women needed balance the home and work. I’d once stalled my plans to go abroad for the seminars because I got pregnant, and had had to take myself out of a meeting, because my child had an accident; not to mention how many chances of promotions I’d passed up, because I can’t put in the promised two-hundred percent mind. “She has to go home to take care of her children”———maybe it was out of kindness, or maybe, my coworkers’ unnoted calculating means, in the workplace where it’s like going to war, this label became so hard and heavy, although it’d given me the time to be with my young, but, it’d, cast out all of my opportunities for advancements at work too.
And, at that moment, I’d understood, as a mother of a special needs child, all of these hardships, may not just have been multiplied, but, all of her dreams, all the visions she wanted for herself, and all she wanted, was to be, treated, equally like any other working woman. I’d, extended my arms toward her hands that were, in knots, I’d given her an understanding smile, and that meal that we’d shared was, joyous, wonderful, and, nothing else needed to be, said.
And so, this is the hardships of being a mother to a special needs child, and a worker too, you have to keep the fact that your child is special needs a “secret”, because you don’t want any special treatments from work, you do NOT want others to define you based off of your role of a mother of a special needs child, and the writer’s understanding shown toward her coworker, is much appreciated.
How there’s, too little help provided to this special needs group of people, how there are more that the government can do, to help this group of special needs people to live better, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
As I had my birth by caesarean in March of 1999, the gynecologist tried to help me feel better, stated, that the “melanin is absent”, perhaps, he’d feared, that I couldn’t, accept it! They didn’t show me my daughter immediately. I’d gone to the nursery to see my baby girl, and she was, so very, beautiful! The natural curls, with the pale complexion, made her look like those, porcelain dolls. Did I cry? Yes I had, the night I’d given birth, for the entire night, then, I’d, started, looking for data online.
There’s a one in 15,000 chances of albinism, it’s due to a recessive gene that’s hereditary, or the genetic mutations. And there are multiple types of albinism, the first, with the worst eyesight; the second type, brown hair, a bit better in vision. My daughter was the first, the conditions of nystagmus caused her to not be able to focus her sight, reading and study is, quite hard for her. She’d had to, put up with the looks from her external environment, needed to put on a lot of sunscreen to protect her skin. When she’d made the lower grades, she’d felt she couldn’t measure up to herself, when she did too well, she couldn’t, measure up to everybody else’s, standards, truly hard for her. I’d thought, that everything will go smoothly after she was diagnosed and treated, but, the ears also needed the melanin to function, and other than her deteriorating sight, her hearing was going away too, and she needed the hearing aid, and, all of these made her get ill psychologically.
As I’d gotten involved with the albinism group, I’d learned, that sight and hearing aren’t the only difficulties, some had cerebral palsy, autism, mental retardation, epilepsy, etc., etc., etc. as the side effects. And there are those who can’t, get past it inside their minds. Are we all upset? No! We’d still work our hardest, to pass our days, some became skilled massage therapists, some tested into the public offices, some are musicians, some, shop owners, some designed the animations, and there are the YouTubers too!
the statistic of albinism in a pie chart
I truly hope, that the Department of Health Sanitation and Welfare can list albinism as a rare condition, to unify the name. The first trouble we face is, what department do we go to to get the conditions treated? What sort of a practical help can the medical profession give? How can the education be offered to this group of children normally? Like for the physical education course, out under the scorching sun, the accommodations made to these students; the teachers can write using the bigger letters, and harder, to help them see better in class. And surely, to teach the other students in class about albinism, so they become more accepting, to set up the foundation of support, for the communities, the society to understand this condition, I hope that everybody in the society can speak for the individuals diagnosed with albinism in the future. There are, the lacking in social welfare, I hope, that the foundations can get in touch with those who’d been diagnosed with the condition actively, to help and to offer assistance to them in life. Currently, there’s the lacking in the standards of funds allotted for the assistance, in the years of usage of the needed equipment as well, all of these is being, amended into law, I hope, that our voices will be heard, by the Department of Sanitation and Welfare.
All the things, I still want to tell. Anyway, I hope, that the government departments will become a sturdy support, standing behind those who’d been diagnosed with albinism, to help the entire society become friends, with individuals with this, rare condition.
And so, this, is on how there are the help offered, but, the resources are too hard to get, because, there’s only, a tiny proportion of the population with this condition, which means, that it won’t get listed as a insured condition by the national health insurance systems, which will make it harder for the families with these individuals with the conditions, as there are multiple complications that came with this condition, like the mentioned, the deterioration of hearing, and others. There’s a lot more that the government can do to help these special needs individuals in the society here.
The worries of this mother, which was what prevented her from getting her son the help he was in need of, until the social worker reached out to her, got through to her, and she was able to get her son into the early intervention program, that gave him a chance at a better future, translated…
After I’d Come to Understand the Hearing Impaired Person’s Understanding and Expressions of Language Being Different than Ours, Whether it be Getting Treatment, the Assessments or the Meetings to Discuss Matters, I’d Always Helped Mom File for a Sign-Language Translator…………….
the Child Who Didn’t Know How to Get Along with Others
The first time I saw Hsian-Hsian at the sanitation offices, he was chasing the other kids, wanted them to play with him, he’d gotten to the other kids, to see what they’re doing, then, grabbing the items the other kids were working on, and quickly enough it’d, caused someone to cry. The few parents, after they’d led their own young away, and gotten their children to settle down, Hsian-Hsian started signaling to his mother, that he wanted to go off to play with the toys—normally, children his age can already speak a few simple sentences, and so, this nonverbal exchange caught my attention. Not long thereafter, I saw his mother used the words, plus the signs to communicate, and that was when I’d come to understand that she’s, a hearing-impaired person.
illustration from UDN.com
When Hsian-Hsian was vaccinated at the sanitation offices, because he didn’t speak a word, and his height, weight are both, under average, he was evaluated by the physicians, and given the diagnosis of “developmentally-delayed.” The physicians also worried, that he may have inherited the hearing impairments, which can cause his language development to come delayed, suggested to the parents that he should be taken to the major hospitals for an evaluation. And yet, Hsian-Hsian’s mom didn’t, and so the nurses at the sanitation office filed for a social worker in early intervention for her, and so, I’d met them, for the, very first time.
After over an hour long of talk on paper, I’d understood the situation at Hsian-Hsian’s home, and discussed with his mom the goals of our working together. She’d told me, that she’d not set up the hospital visits, because she didn’t know how she was going to be able to tell the doctor, to discuss the situations, the conditions of her own son, and can only use the lipreading means, to guess at what others are saying to her, which made her felt, ill-at-ease.
After understanding, that the hearing impaired persons has a differences of interpretation, of understanding language than we do, no matter if it was the visiting of the physicians’ offices, the assessment with the therapists or the discussions, I’d always helped mom find a translator, to help her understand the situations, and, slowly taught her how to file for the services on her own, to help her communicate with the outside world more smoothly.
Accompanying a Family in Moving Onward
After the multiple assessments, we’d found, that Hsian-Hsian had cognitive, language, and kinesthetic developmental delays; but luckily, he is normal in his hearing, and can receive the sounds from outside successfully. I’d immediately signed him up for the clinic’s early intervention programs, and set him up to start in the public preschool systems in his neighborhood. During the time, I’d, helped his mom file for the assistance of parenting lessons at home, to give her the support she needed in teaching the young son.
From getting to treatment, signing up for the early intervention courses, along with other resources, to letting Hsian-Hsian’s mother file for the services, to sign up, I’d, assisted her from the side. Later on, my function changed into reminding, and following up with her, to make sure that Hsian Hsian’s mom knew to use the techniques that the early intervention instructor, and the therapists’ techniques to interact with her own young son, and felt that she’d accompanied her son as he grew up by the day.
After a year and a half, mom, Hsian Hsian and I, we’d gone to the N.T.U. Hospital again to get the latest of Hsian Hsian’s early intervention assessment reports. It said, that his abilities had improved greatly compared to before, and now, he doesn’t only initiate the interaction with the physicians, as he got out of the treatment room, he would interact with other children, “can I play with you? I have my toy car with me!” seeing how happy he is, there’s that sense of moving that came to me, I’d felt, the meanings of early intervention programs, to know the needs of the families, of the children to give them the support they were needing, to help them catch up to the developments of children their age, to help them move forward into a brighter future.
And so, this, is how much the early intervention programs had helped this particular case, and, the mother was originally timid in getting her son the treatment, the assessments he was in need of, because she’d feared that her own disabilities will keep her from expressing her concerns to the physicians, but, with this foundation’s help, setting her up with a translator, she communicated better with the doctors whom her son was getting treated by, getting him the help that he needed, and now, he’s, catching up.
On the necessity of these, early intervention programs, supporting the parents of these, special needs children, translated…
Every year around Children’s Day, in the preschools, kindergartens, and elementary school across the island host an assortments of activities to celebrate, and the news channels also, zoomed in on these activities more or less, and, the children that were caught on tape, they usually have the bright smiling faces, active, or maybe, they even, fought for the airtime, and started chit chatting to the cameras, having a good time, celebrating this day that’s, especially, saved, for them. All of these, ordinary footages, however, for the parents with children in the early intervention programs, may be, painful to watch, for that is what they longed to see, but, may or may not get, in the, distant, futures in their, and their own children’s, lives.
From before, I’d viewed these as nothing more than, normal and ordinary, but as I’d started working in the facilities for the handicapped, I’d, started, feeling different: being born healthy, to grow up safe, that, is sometimes, the best form of, blessing.
the necessity of these, early intervention programs…
Most parents would imagine, that as their babies were born, everything will be smooth sailing, and yet, after awhile, some parents would discover, “hey, how come someone else’s child can already flip her/himself onto her/his stomach, and my baby couldn’t yet?” or, “why is it that we’re never on the same wavelength as our own children? No matter what we do, our child just cried, fussed, and started throwing the tantrums?”, after getting the professional opinions, all of these parents usually receive the thunder-struck responses, to a lot of times, the physicians can’t even tell the parents, what exactly was, wrong with their children. To these families, leading their children to the starting lines is hard enough as is, let alone, the “ordinary scenes” we’d described at the start of this article? In the process of coming of age, they’d weathered through more twists and turns, and, although, early interventions isn’t a fix-all, but, it does, offer them the sturdy support that they are all in need of.
As I watched those footages on T.V., I’d thought of the children in my care, those who are placed, in the early intervention programs. Some of whom, had too much of a stretch out of their muscles, and as the instructor massaged them, they’d started crying aloud from the pains of the stretches; some are silent, that melted down, because they can’t get the world to understand what it was that they needed or wanted; some can’t stand, some can’t sit, those were the ones who’d thrown their major-scale temper tantrums when placed int eh swing chairs, or the standing racks, to train their muscle tones………and yet, all of these, are ordinary goings-on of an early intervention center, what the normal general public don’t note.
This was my primary drive to set up the topics with the UDNpapers this time, through the words, to help more know these children who are, too complicated, and their families too; even if the roads up ahead are filled with the twists, the turns, these children still used their own separate paces, with the help and companionships of trained professional caretakers, grow up, step, by step.
And so, this, is what we, “normal” people fail to notice of this group of special needs children, and we don’t normally see what’s going on, because, a lot of us just, don’t care, because we got enough on our plates, and, we take for granted, that our own children are born healthy, with no problems.
This is still, a, RE-action, to the, adult parents’, “desires” of the child…
I’m compelled to NEED, my ADHD, because, only when I have it, my mom will, shower me with, all the attention, and dad won’t, demand that I make straight A’s.
Compelled to NEED, my ADHD, because we all know, how the world expects less of children with, special needs, and, if I keep on, faking these symptoms, I’ll get off, easy. Compelled to NEED, my ADHD, it’s the only thing that’s, keeping them from, going AT one another’s throats, because, my ADHD, when it acts up, well, everybody comes to shower me, with, all of their, undivided attention.
Psychologically, I, enjoy the undivided attention, the showers of extravagant gifts if I get a point higher on my school test grades, but that’s all, added extras. I’m compelled, to NEED my, ADHD, primary because it keeps my parents’ anger off of each other (or they’ll be going AFTER one another throats, and I will surely, end up as, an orphan that’s for sure!), so they can, direct their attention, towards ME.
As I am, the MEDIATOR, had always been, in their, marriage, and, if I don’t’ use this “mental condition” to my ability, then, what good is it???