And that's some of the rest of the story....

When I was young, I used to imagine that I would one day be nobody, and that I would fail at things that I eventually would hope to achieve.  At the time, I had no hopes of achievement, as this would certainly be merely feeding the flames of the inevitable bitterness. I only hoped one day that I would be maimed severely, or blinded or something- nothing that would make me too unattractive, but might heighten my other senses or force me to overcome it by gaining amazing skill or strength in a specific area. I had never watched the Special Olympics. I thought that they would be glamorous, because the guy in the wheelchair that I knew, Victor, was so nice, and had such huge arms. 

When I was young, I used to think that grownups were entirely fallible, and frequently made mistakes.

When I was young, I would dream at night that somebody, always a grownup, would be driving a car in which I was a passenger, and they would always drive me off a cliff, because they were too busy  reaching down for lipstick or something. Once I dreamed that I saved myself from Native Americans on a beach, who had tied me  to a chair, then, feeling quite proud of my cleverness, got into my mom's car, and we promptly went over a cliff. Sometimes in mid-air, as we were plummeting to our certain doom, I would scream to my fellow passengers, reassuringly "Don't worry. It's only a dream."