THANKS FOR NO MEMORIES

Upper West Side of Manhattan  1952-1969

By Eric Blumberg

One aspect of the human condition is the ability to remember.  Most people can regale others with poignant stories of their childhood.  Unfortunately, I am not one of them.

Chapter Two and the treatments I was given after my college years at Beloit will explain why.

Above….sometime before the fall.

Sure, there are glimpses, which adhere to my mind.  For example, I remember growing up on the Upper West Side in New York, playing stickball, stoop ball, and Chinese handball. 

However, if you ask me about anything specific, I turn into a witness who can only say “I don’t recall”. 

I remember going to P.S. 75, the Emily Dickinson School, and on to McBurney private school, however, ask me to tell recite many of the names of teachers or pupils (with the possible exception of my classmate Richard “John Boy” Thomas and singing in the all boys choir, all you’ll get is a shrug. 

I do, of course, remember my parents and siblings, but ask me to talk about particular incidents or interactions, which are so often on most people’s top of mind, all you will get is a blank stare.

I do remember that these two, who met as agent and actress, were my parents. 🙂 She saw a psychiatrist for many years.  He suffered from depression. 

There is one part of my young childhood which has stayed with me even today.  There was something wrong with me beginning at approximately age seven.  What is was precisely, I can’t tell you.  Regardless this was my time in life where I was in need of some medical assistance.

It wasn’t a deadly illness although I was nearly killed when I ran out in the middle of the street and was hit by a taxicab. 

No, the illness wasn’t life threatening, at least for me, wasn’t caused by the accident, but it was chronic.

For some for far too many in this country and around the world, the mood disorders that I was later diagnosed with can be and are life threatening.

My parents, who were both in show business, and therefore familiar with the world of psychiatrists, came to the conclusion that I was slightly different from the norm, and sent me to see a child psychiatrist named Dr. Friend (seriously).  He, in turn, prescribed a popular tranquilizer called Miltown. 

Not yet on Miltown above, perhaps needed to be.

Miltown. Not sure, but I looked happy

I’m on the left with my brother Robert, early 60’s. I looked calmer then. Perhaps the Miltown was to blame for the blank look.

Consider this foray into the realm of brain science as as a foreshadowing of the pain and suffering both my parents and I would have to overcome before I could set out on my own life’s evolution.

It started early for me and took several mind bending twists and turns until the solution or at least the right treatment, could be found.

The mind bending part reared its ugly head as I approached adulthood as ventured off to Beloit, Wisconsin.