Hello, this is my first day (night) on this site. I just finished a laborious reply to someone else's post on an unrelated subject--I hate to think I'll have to write all that again--however I think it's important. I believe I may have/may have had, as a child, reactive attachment disorder (disinhibited type). Unlike the better known type I had, as a child, a tendency to be overly trusting, naiive, to walk up to complete strangers in the schoolyard and initiate conversations about whatever subject happened to be on my mind. I guess I expected to be accepted into their group or clique immediately, but was cruelly hurt time and time again by their ridicule, rejection, social ostracism--this was right after The Second Divorce, when Mom moved me and herself in with Grandma and I had to enter third grade in the middle of the year, abruptly. I didn't know anyone in school and was socially awkward from the start. I recall the first day--having been accustomed to playing by myself (which I'd done before the move to another city, preferring rocking on the rocking horse to playing with the group in Kindergarten, having taken to bouncing a rubber ball in first and second grades, alone, during recess) I decided to play "horsie" and loped around the playground, off by myself, as the other kids played in groups. One boy came up to me and called out, "Retard-o!" (I thought "Retardo" must be some fictional horse character, and the word sounded romantic, so it must be a compliment.) Later I asked another kid in line to go back into class what "Retardo" meant. "It means you're stupid," he replied. That's how the misery began. As the shyness wore off I'd sometimes walk up to the other kids and try to initiate some game I'd chosen (oblivious to the unspoken social rule, you have to play the game in progress, chat on the subject the others are talking about--dress like they do, imitate their behavior) and wind up being victimized by verbal repercussions like, "Why are you wearing a mask? It isn't Halloween!" or the humiliation of becoming the focus of never-ending, relentless ridicule. Somehow I'd never developed the level of awareness that allows normal children to estimate how they must appear in others' eyes, full self-awareness--at least, not at that age--and was just as happy by myself as with others, and somehow lacked the intuitive awareness of others' motives or intentions. They must be "evil" kids, I decided--and I took to avoiding others and retreating into a world of fantasy, being content to be alone, as the inherent need for social interaction had failed to develop normally. (I even recall wishing everyone else on Earth would disappear, so I could play with all the toys I could ever want--without harassment or ridicule, or having to ask Mom to pay for them.) At the age of 12, because of frequent class disruptions, I was taken to a Day Treatment Center for children with severe behavior problems and, after being tested, found to have an abnormally high IQ for my age. I also recall being told my emotional development was "retarded" at the age of a 3-year-old. The psychologists believed this was due to my parents' divorce at that age, although I still have clear memories of my early childhood and don't recall "walking around the house like a zombie" as my mother claimed, devoid of emotion--I could recall, years later, gazing up at the face of my "new daddy" as he pronounced the word, "Pardon?" in response to something I'd said. I didn't know what that word meant. I asked Mom, who explained it meant, "excuse me." I think if the divorce had been such a shock, I would have been more amnesiac. If anything had been a shock in my early childhood it had to be my relationship with my stepfather--which could be called emotionally abusive--I don't know what Mom was up to when he did things to scare me (though I don't recall sexual abuse--as he did to my older sister, I learned years later) and why she didn't keep the pornographic magazines out of my reach (the ones I was so eager to page through, looking at the pictures). I don't recall any bad memories of Mom--only that she and he worked, so I came home from Kindergarten and had to phone--but have few memories of her, from that age, so I'm not sure how close a relationship we had. I don't recall it being close. I don't recall. I'm sure she meant well, but maybe the strained relationship with my stepdad was taking its toll on her nerves. Currently I'm unemployed, on disability for paranoid schizophrenia and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) (though I'm in doubt), take my medications regularly (though they don't alter my thought process in the slightest), and still tend to start friendly conversations with total strangers everywhere I go, though I have no close friendships. If anyone with a kid having this disability (or related) would like to comment, I'd be pleased to read it. Thanks.