When I was five years old, my adoptive parents divorced. Soon, my mother and I were packing our bags and moving to a new house, with a new man. When I look back on this, I didn’t fight it, I didn’t seem to care in the slightest bit.
Soon after I moved into this house, with this new man, I began to be very difficult. I wouldn’t want to go to school, I would have outbursts of violent anger, I began to steal money from family members. That was the lighter side of the symptoms I developed. Soon, I became very paranoid. For the longest time, I blamed it on my mother letting me watch a ghost movie but I know now that this was not a normal paranoia. I refused to sleep in my room, I wouldn’t go near a dark hallway, I would scream at the top of my lungs if I managed to get stuck in a dark room [like, a power outage for example]. My paranoia took over my entire life. Remember, I was on five years old and I was consumed with fear.