About Me

I count myself first of all as a Christian, meaning that I have a relationship with God through the Person of His Son, Jesus. I'm a wife, a mom, an advocate (though not formally trained) and an activist. I "discovered" social networking, specifically Facebook, over two years ago. I got into Facebook to "sound off" mainly about the missing person and true crime cases which I was following closely at that time through TV networks and populat talk shows. I was frustrated that only certain cases that could easily be sensationalized, were able to make the news and I was hoping to get the attention of media people by posting links on their comment threads and following and connecting with advocates and families of missing people on their "fan pages" or personal profiles. For all missing people, I was convinced and still am, deserve equal resources to bring each one of them home; though, like everything else in life, missing persons searches are very much unequal into the resources that are applied to their searches. I'm thankful that I do not know the trauma of having a missing loved one by experience; I admit that I began closely following true crime cases and missing persons cases, partially, as a way to distract myself from the problems in my life and in the life of my family that seemed to be beyond any resolution.

As my Facebook experience progressed, though, and I saw how people were opening up about their own lives and things formerly considered taboo, I longed for that for myself but wondered if I could make that work. For I knew of no one who seemed to be dealing with what was troubling me. For I had grown up with a mix of differences and challenges that no one, not even professionals, could make sense of. I was born to a young, 16-year-old girl and the awareness that exists about autism spectrum disorders (ASDs) and related neurological conditions would really have helped my mom help me and would have made my growing up years and even after, much less painful and such a source of unanswered questions. My differences showed up from birth, according to my mom. A doctor had told mom: "Put her in an institution as she will never be able to function in society." Mom, bless her! ignored this advice.  At age two, my records said, I was behaving so badly that mom took me to professionals; they pinned on me the label of "Obsessive-compulsive neurosis" (the word neurosis was in vogue then in the 1960s). At that time, I was also diagnosed with "mild cerebral palsy" and had to spend much time in a local childen's hospital getting physical therapy. Later, in childhood, I was also diagnoses with epilepsy, as the febrile seizures in had as a young child become non-febrile (febrile seizures in children are not epileptic seizues). Praise God, due to long-term use of anti-convulsants (though with side effects) I have been 100 percent seizure-free. At age 13, I was diagnosed with Marfan's Syndrome, which affects the connective tissues, the eyes and the heart's
aorta.

When I was a young child, Mom took me to this babysitter who made it clear that she didn't like me. She would lock me in closets and put soap in my mouth. Mom's second husband (and my brother's biological dad) also made his dislike for me clear. He was a college student at the time, very bright and did not appreciate my hyperactive behavior. He would spank me and lock me in closets, according to my childhood records. He would tell poor Mom, "What an animal you have raised." Once, the mom of two neighborhood girls told me, "Lisa, my daughters will grow up to be responsible and successful adults. You will not!" Adults would say, whether to me or about me, "You are selfish, self-centered and spoiled. That is YOUR problem." "You are not trying," "The others kids you are being placed with have real problems but you are plain spoiled." Adults were not able to pin down my differences, but my peers were! They let me know that, too. They called me things like "ugly," stupid," "slut," "whore," retard," "cripple," and other things, including things that are not fit to be printed. They would hit me, beat me up, trip me, steal my money, and more.



I recall that, from very early in life, I have always had this urge to sniff things, especially books. I still do! And I have always been an unually picky eater. And I still am! As a baby, I cried so much that, according to poor Mom, it was like I was in agony and I was beyond consolation. I could not be soothed. Sensory pain? The fluorescent lights in classrooms and offices have always made me feel like "zoning out" and unable to focus on what was going on, but because of all the things adults told me about myself, I always thought this meant that I was, for some reason unknown to me, not trying hard enough to pay attention. Today, I have this fascination with taking bubblebaths, since I have "discovered" bubblebaths as an adult, more recently. I wonder if this points to something sensory going on.



My mom and my second, late stepdad, (deceased as of last year), without much support and very little awareness about the special needs of children, tried to understand me and make sense of my complex mix of differences. Being young and uneducated and with few financial resources, they did the best they could with the little they had. I'm forever grateful to them for trying to understand even without the awareness that we have today. They simply did not know how to help me. They gave me love and affection, which was the best that could be done in those times.


I do not know why I have always been so hesistant about taking on the title survivor for myself. I think it is, largely, because, even today, I still feel, in a way, that all my problems have always been "in my heard" and figments of my imagination. I even look with a pang of jealousy at the many people in my social networks and on TV, who share their survivor stories, show such a strong sense of self and receive validation and affirmation for themselves because of all that they have been though and because they have emerged as better people because of their experiences. I am still seeking this for myself, even at this time in my life. I grew up without any sense of self. This, I know, is largely because, as a child, I was actually called "neurotic" and this word means that a person is upset about things out of proportion to the actual events in that person's life. This word overlooks the fact that many needs are invisible and hidden but they are just as real to the person. And that was true for me and still is.


I'm thankful that we are living in a day and age when we are being encouraged to talk about things that we have, when I was growing up and certainly before that, we were told to be quiet about, to keep secret. In my case, when I was age 9 and, later, 14, I experienced sexual abuse. In the one case when I was 9, the offender was the boyfriend of a relative and I was told to keep it a secret to protect the relative in question. In the second case when I was 14, the offender was a gas station attendant and when when my parents brought it to the attention of the police, they were told: "It would not be helpful to pursue prosecution, as your daughter has emotional problems and a jury would not buy her story." That still hurts to this day! Because I had a label, my word did not count. These things happened decades ago and I have not forgotten, even though I don't talk about them. And I am thankful that violence was not involved and that God has protected me and spared me from dangers I may have never been aware of. He is indeed good.

During my childhood and teen years, I spent my school years in and out (mostly in) special education and in a couple of residential settings. Because of my unusually withdrawn behavior, I was labelled "emotionally-disturbed" and later, "behaviorally-disordered." I experienced much bullying and it got so bad one year, that I was removed from the school in question; the following school year, I was placed again in special education and I remained there for the rest of my school career. For a couple of my teen years, I was placed on a dangerous combination of psychiatric drugs and they altered my personality completely, and some of the drug reactions and especially, many of the things I said and did during that time, make me cringe when they even come to mind. I could have used the autism and bullying awareness that we have today, especially then! Because of the bullying and the emotional abuse of adults in my life who were plain frustrated with my differences, I grew up thinking of myself as crazy, bad, stupid, and headed for a future of the "small things." I entered adulthood feeling much guilt, fear, shame, confusion, petty jealousies, and futility. Yes, I was able to enter college as an adult and marry later. My daughter was born much later; it was when she was diagnosed with a form of high-functioning autism, relatives (not to my face) surmised that an undiagnosed ASD could explain my lifelong issues. And I had to agree. However, in my area I have never been able to find a qualified, affordable professional who can confirm my ASD "self-diagnosis." I'm forever thankful for the autism and bullying awareness that is present in our culture and I know that my family, especially my daughter, is presently benefitting from both forms of awareness. God has been wonderfully good to us through what He has done for us through my daughter. We are so blessed through her. Yet this does not lessen the ongoing emotional scars I still carry due to my past, which include being very sensitive to slights, even perceived slights and having the tendency to take things personally and to avoid people in-person.

Therefore, I'm here to use my voice to help bring about a more welcoming world for people with the more misunderstood conditions, such as autism, epilepsy, and a host of other easily misunderstood conditions. I'm also still here to contribute to support and awareness for missing people, their families, and the issues that surround missing people. These include kidnapping (family, acquaintance, stranger), child abuse, domestic violence, special needs wandering, suicide, runaways, and more. And I'm here to use my posts to address issues meant for anyone. If I can use my past and my life to make a difference, however small, for people today and tomorrow, I feel that my life will have been worth it all. And to God be all the Glory!


I wonder how many sex offenders, criminals, homeless people, and long-term users of government assistance, are individuals with unmet needs and who are "recycling their hurts" on society? There is no excuse for crime, of course, but this is a major problem. And I'm sure that this surrounds the epidemic of missing people and crime victims, as such people are also more vulnerable to victimization. No, I'm not here to support the idea of the "survivor defense" for truly guilty people. It is not enough to say how terrible such people are and that crimes happen. We need solutions and prevention so that future crimes will not happen. Yes, I strongly believe that prevention through understanding can reduce much future crime.  Isn't this what we want?