Until I was forty-one years old, I lived with my parents. The only "breaks" were going away to college, but even then, they controlled my finances, and I was brought back to their home, my official address, between school terms. Living with them past my early twenties was not something I chose to do, or wanted to do. It just always seemed like things were set in motion for that to be the case. 

When I was born, I was more than two months premature. My birth was done by forceps, not natural.  I had a twin who was much worse off, but neither of us were expected to make it. My mother is Catholic, and both babies were given the last rites. Doctors diagnosed both of us with Cerebral Palsy, though once I pulled through the severe health problems I had at birth and it was clear I was going to live, the only issue left was one foot turned the wrong way. 

For my entire childhood, I was told I couldn't do many things "because I had Cerebral Palsy." I had foot surgery when I was three, and went through therapy, special ed. PE in school, and restrictions on my social life and activities, all chalked up to Cerebral Palsy. I was born in 1975, and in those days, there was no disability pride, or a concept of a "disability community." I was treated like I was what in those days people called "retarded," that is, as though I had intellectual and social impairments caused by impaired cognitive functioning. Except I didn't. I learned to read when I was three, could read on my own by the time I was four, started singing at age five, writing at age eight, and researching that same year. I already knew my parents would never teach me things I would need to know, so when they allowed me to spend a couple of hours at the library while they grocery shopped, I taught myself how to budget money and run a household. I think I may have been the first eight year-old in history to understand credit cards. 

As I grew, I was occasionally treated like I was "smart," but it was always as if I were "smart for a disabled kid." I was expected to get excellent grades, behave perfectly in school and at home, and learn things, but it was always a given that I would never be able to live on my own due to my disability. Sexuality and relationships was something I better never even think about. I was told I was "not even supposed to know" about that if I dared chuckle at a dirty joke in my late teens, and my parents would exchange glances over my head if anything of that nature was mentioned with a friend, even into my twenties. 

And speaking of their friends, my parents never seemed to like or trust many people, but if you were someone they decided to talk to, you heard the story of my mother and her babies with Cerebral Palsy within ten minutes....in great detail...including how "different" I was. 

The first time my parents were challenged was when they tried to get me SSI disability for Cerebral Palsy when I was in my twenties. After all the testing and prodding and exams they do, the results were that I had been misdiagnosed. I never had Cerebral Palsy at all. They did successfully get me into a Vocational Rehabilitation program, but the results weren't completely to their liking. That is, I got some financial aid for college, but they didn't get any cash brought into the house. Worse for them, I got to look at my medical records from birth. The words "Cerebral Palsy" never appeared in the typed document, but had been written in pencil off to the side. 

Through the years, my parents would urge me to try to get this and that, but they knew they couldn't force me as easily as when I was younger. Things began to be done increasingly online, and could simply neglect to go on websites and fill out forms. But it was always accepted that I would live with them, as a permanent child, and had "Cerebral Palsy." Relatives never questioned this, and actually treated me as though I were childlike themselves. I later found out that anyone who did question it was told it was too hard to live by yourself when you didn't drive. (I really don't drive. I honestly...no facetious disorder involved...have no depth perception). 

"Cerebral palsy" was also a convenient excuse for why I never moved away over all those years. The real reason was that my mother was a compulsive gambler, and would use threats, intimidation, and fear  to get me to empty any savings account I might have to cover her gambling losses. This happened repeatedly.  She caused me to have to declare bankruptcy at one point, making it impossible for me to get an apartment and difficult to get a good job for even longer. But if anyone asked why a thirty-five year old had never left her parents..."Cerebral Palsy" was always a handy answer, or "can't drive" or both. 

The story of how I got away at forty-one would take three other stories to tell, so I will skip ahead to my parents' behavior afterward. I had another doctor examine me at age forty-four. He said I do not have enough symptons to merit a diagnosis of "Cerebral Palsy" and that the physical impairments I do have were caused by the surgery I had at age three. When my mother found out about that, she seemed to completely blow it off. You would have thought she realized a sweater she always thought was black was really gray or navy blue, the way she said "Oh well." I saw her online trying for the sympathy and attention after a post I made, but when I pointed out that the topic of the post wasn't about that, she quit. And she did try to convince me I had Cerebral Palsy one other time, but seemed to completely drop it now that I was out of her house and of no use to her for sympathy or hoped for money. As far as I know, she is no longer actively gambling. Whenever I would ask her questions like, "What type of Cerebral Palsy did they say I had?" she would give me nonsense answers like "No type. Just mild Cerebral Palsy." 

Then...on my forty-sixth birthday, I asked her for the date that my life was saved after birth. According to the birth records I saw in my twenties, I really did come close to death as a newborn. Her response shocked me. She said, "You were never near death. They just had to keep you until you reached five pounds." 

I have to admit, I was furious with her. I didn't lash out, but I felt intense anger. All those years living with the fallout of my mother and her stories of her babies that almost died, and her parenting the disabled surviving twin (me), and her trying to use my "disability" to get money....and now she was just going to act like none of it ever happened. 

As I look back on all this, I am beginning to suspect Munchaussen by Proxy. I am not in the medical field, but I am thinking my parents either knew all along I never had Cerebral Palsy, lied about it, and tried to create worse impairments through not letting me do anything....or....they honestly thought I had Cerebral Palsy at first, but knew I never had any intellectual impairments and only the mildest of physical impairments that could be dealt with through some exercise, but worked to exagerate and lie about my impairments...either way for sympathy, attention, and money for themselves. 

As for me...to this day, I am not sure if I have the mildest possible case of Cerebral Palsy with physical impairment only, or if I have impairment from surgery and treatment I shouldnt have had at an early age, or a mix of both. But I know I didn't have all those problems and needs I....and everyone around me....were made to believe I had.