Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Day I Was Born

I was depressed. Not because I was turning 33, but something was triggering me off. Was it because my sister and sister in law were having babies and developing their families? Was it my biological clock ticking? Was it because I've been getting depressed around my birthdays since 2009? I had questions, questions that perhaps many adoptees would have despite not being one myself. What was I like as a baby, a child, a youth? What was my personality like, what were my lowest and highest moments, what did they remember about me that I didn't? Why?

For my birthday, I received 12 books on Neurology, Psychology, Sociology, Performance Art, Dance etc... And having no memory nor stories of my childhood and youth, in constant search and understanding of my identity, I requested my parents to recount stories. I got back a lovely e-mail: I was a hefty 4.5 kgs baby, "smiling, curious and active... you were always playing with something and never cried", a healthy appetite and slept well, got hit by a car and was in a COMA??? WTF? I thought snakes were beautiful, my pet rabbit lonely without a partner. Sated, for now...

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