Consistently Persistent: Living with the Tourette Trifecta
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About this ebook
Suppose you had TS (Tourette Syndrome), OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder), and ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) but didn't know it until you were forty-five-years old.
What would your life have been like before you found out?
Did it help to learn you had what you came to call “The Trifecta”?
What if the medication didn't work?
How on earth could you have made a success of your life?
For most of his life, Mark Horner didn't know why he was so smart, so fast on his feet, so quick to
anger, so sensitive to pain, and so likely to lose a job because he “didn't fit in.” Still, he persisted —until everything changed. It never got any easier, but it got much better. Much This is his story.
Markus Horner
Born and raised in Dallas, Texas. 64 years old. Married with one daughter. Business owner, freelance writer, newspaper columnist, published author. Guest speaker.
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Consistently Persistent - Markus Horner
Consistently Persistent
Living with the Tourette Trifecta
Markus Horner
Published by CP Publications at Smashwords
Copyright © 2013 Markus Horner
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied or otherwise reproduced without the written permission of the author.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Publisher
CP Publications
5250 Hwy 78, Suite 750
PMB 140
Sachse, TX 75048
www.consistentlypersistent.com
www.antibully-ing
Book Editing and Cover Design
Kenneth Guentert, The Publishing Pro, LLC, Colorado Springs, Colorado
Contents
***
Preface
Acknowledgments
1. My Early Elementary Years: One battle after another
2. My Grandparents: Always a favorite place
3. My Life in Pleasant Grove: Keeping up with the peasants
4. My Life as a Teenager: The bad, the bad, and the ugly
5. My Life in the Navy: Trying to stay afloat
6. Back Home in Dallas: Trying to make it on my own
7. Judy, Judy, Judy: Not your grandfather’s church lady
8. Houston, We Have a Problem: Lost in a bad space
9. Footloose in Dallas: Dancing with the scars
10. My New Bride: Better luck this time
11. My Turning Point: Painful as it was
12. Doting on My Daughter: The smartest kid on earth
13. Beng’s New Job: Serving the eyes of Texas
14. An Education of a Different Sort: My Ph.D. in chickenshit
Epilog: A life-changing decision
Preface
***
I have written this book to accomplish several purposes. They are listed below, not necessarily in order of importance.
First, it is my hope and prayer that you will take away from this book something that will make a positive difference in your life now and in the future. I hope you will realize that, yes, life can be very tough and at times downright cruel, but life is absolutely worth living. No matter what your personal situation, you can make up your mind that you will never give up and you will never quit. If you do that, you will not be defeated by life, and you will be amazed at the things that you can accomplish. If you adopt and live by my principle of Consistently Persistent,
you can overcome any and all obstacles. Some days those obstacles will be big ones, other days they will be small ones. However, if you just flat refuse to be knocked down and kept down, your accomplishments will surprise even you. I hope this message comes through loud and clear. Yes, I had a tough life, but I not only survived it, I prospered because of it. I prospered because of my attitude of Consistently Persistent.
I hope this book will help you to do the same.
Second, I wrote this book in the hopes that the non-disabled population will gain a better idea of how difficult life can be for the disabled person, regardless of his or her disability. Everyone, whether disabled or not, deserves the same courtesy, respect, and consideration. Parents, in particular, have a duty to teach their children to treat disabled people in the exact same manner as they do non-disabled people.
Third, I want everyone with TS (Tourette Syndrome) or TS-plus to understand that you are not inferior to anyone even though you have an incurable disease. You can achieve your dreams and goals just like anyone else, just like I did and am still doing. True, at times you might have to work just a little bit harder, but what’s wrong with a little more hard work? No one ever promised you that life would be fair. I promise you, it’s not. But that’s okay. You must not allow yourself to fall into the trap of making excuses for your disability. You are just as valuable as anyone else. Don’t ever forget that.
Finally, when I was growing up, all I could ever remember wanting to be was normal, whatever the hell normal is. I had to constantly listen to everyone else about how they wanted to be a doctor, or a fireman, or a nurse, or whatever. All I ever wanted to be was normal. Well, I am finally grown, and I now realize that I was normal—for me. I’m tickled to death that I am not normal in respect to other people’s standards. If I had been normal, I would not have anywhere near the number of experiences that I have. True, some were not so good. Okay, they were downright ugly. But I now realize that I have some really good experiences that most people will never have.
For example, a local Justice of the Peace told me that in his opinion I missed my calling by not becoming a trial attorney. Young man, you have a God-given gift for this,
he said. A mechanical engineering professor at the University of Texas Arlington told me that I was one of the most talented mechanical engineering prospects that he had ever seen. A professional dance instructor told me that I should have been a professional dancer because I have a sense of rhythm that he very rarely sees. I also had two different English professors tell me I should have been a writer.
The point to this is that I am incredibly lucky to be this talented. If I were normal by other peoples’ standards, I more than likely would not be this talented. So, I could not be happier to be normal according to my standards and I just hope that you are as happy with your normalcy as I am with mine.
Bottom line, I wish each and every one of you the very best that life has to offer.
—M.H.
Return to Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
***
I want to thank my wife and daughter for all of their love and support. Lord knows, it has not been easy living with me at times. But they have hung in there and continued to offer their love and support. I feel incredibly lucky to have a wife like Beng (her nickname) and a fabulous daughter like Margie. They are both exceptional people in their own way.
I want to thank Candy Broussard (her maiden name) for being my friend when I was a teenager. She never asked me to change. She never made fun of or teased me for my tics. She just accepted me for who I was, the way I was, and what I was. This is why I loved her so much. We could not have been closer if we had been brother and sister. Everyone should be lucky enough to have a friend like this.
I also want to thank all of you who did tease, embarrass, and humiliate me as I was growing up. You unintentionally and unknowingly pushed me to be where I am today. Without this, I probably would not have achieved the things I have.
Return to Table of Contents
1. My Early Elementary Years
One battle after another
***
"I didn’t look forward to going to school for reasons that only got worse as I got older."
Well, I have finally decided to write my life story after having been told by Lord only knows how many people that I should. Because I lived this life, it is difficult for me to understand how it could be so interesting to so many people. As you will see later, my name should have been Markus T. Horner. The T stands for TROUBLE. Capitalizing it was no mistake. You’ll understand why as you read through the book. Okay, for better or worse, and without further ado, here ‘tis.
I was born on July 27, 1949 in Dallas, Texas. Talk about a date that will live in infamy. I did not include that last statement purely at random. You’ll understand why later on. Here’s a hint: Pay attention to when I talk about my father and his time in the Navy during World War II. Can you already tell that this is going to be a best seller? Okay, okay! It’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. Anyway, my parents didn’t know it at the time, but I was born with Tourette Syndrome (TS), Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). I now refer to TS, OCD, and ADHD as my Trifecta. But these three conditions were only the beginning. Later in life, I developed type 2 diabetes, hypertension, degenerative arthritis, a hiatal hernia, anxiety disorder, high cholesterol, and a heart murmur.
The heart murmur was my own fault. Apparently, I pushed myself so hard for so long that I created it. According to my cardiologist, I had built up one side of my heart muscle so much that with every beat it now overpowers the valve between the two halves of my heart and forces blood by it. The doctor told me that this is not the kind of murmur that will kill you. Lucky me, huh! My kitchen cabinet looks like a pharmacy. Talk about a walking medical basket case. Any one of my three conditions (the Trifecta) can make life exceedingly difficult, but, lucky me, I have all three.
Except for the occasional beating by my alcoholic father, my first five years were relatively uneventful. We now realize that he also had TS. I’m not sure about the OCD and ADHD, but it would not come as a surprise to me if I learned he had those conditions as well. About 20 percent of those with Tourette Syndrome have rage attacks, and my father had them big time. I never knew what was going to set him off, but I knew enough to stay out of his way when he did explode. If he blamed me for his explosion and he caught me, I could count on not being able to walk or even stand up for a while. In today’s social climate, this behavior would land you in prison for a few years. My father’s idea of a spanking was to grab me by the wrist with one hand and start swinging a belt with his other hand. Wherever he hit me was where he hit me. It could be across the butt or the back or the face. He didn’t really care. He just figured that I had brought the beating on myself. The sad fact is that about 80 percent of those with TS will have either tried (and perhaps completed) suicide or had a major confrontation with the law by the time they are 21. As you will see, I fit right in.
The first beating that I remember well took place in the late afternoon. I was a second grader at Black Elementary in Mesquite, Texas. It was getting close to supper, and my father had told me not to ride too far away on my bicycle. To him anything past the end of the driveway was too far. Of course, I proceeded to do exactly what he told me not to do. Isn’t that what kids do? When he came looking for me, he had his belt in his hand. When he got to me, he grabbed me, yanked me off my bike, and started swinging right there in the middle of the road. He did not believe in delaying punishment. I remember screaming, Daddy, please don’t. Please don’t.
My screams had no effect on him, and there was no one else around who could hear me. The closest home was a hundred yards away. When he got through with me, he made me get back on my bike and ride it home, crying all the way. I did not have much of an appetite that evening.
I don’t have fond memories of Black Elementary School. For example, some of the kids in the class had started to take advantage of the freedom to get up and go to the rest room without asking permission. Of course, they eventually got caught playing in the rest room, and the teacher came down hard on all of us. I was one of the first to pay the price, even though I was not one of those caught misbehaving. After the teacher had been instructed to make a point with us, I raised my hand to ask for permission to go to the rest room. I was not faking, but the teacher said, No.
To make a long story short, I ended up dumping into my underwear and had to sit in the results for the rest of the day. It’s impossible to describe how uncomfortable this was. This discipline would get a teacher fired today—and justifiably so—but back in 1956, the idea that children should be seen and not heard
was still predominate. I have to give my father credit for this one, though.
When I got home and told him what happened, he stuck up for me. He went to the school the next day and insisted on a conference with the teacher and the principal. From that day on, I got no more static when I asked to go to the rest room. At the same time, my father made it abundantly clear that I was not to take advantage of the privilege. If he caught me, I would answer for it. To him. He didn’t have to tell me twice.
This was about the time that I started to tic. I must have been about seven when things went to hell in a hand basket. You can imagine how my tics made me stick out like the proverbial sore thumb.
I now know that I had another condition to deal with at the time: Oppositional Defiant Disorder or ODD. Many children with Tourette Syndrome also have ODD. Although I had never been officially diagnosed with this disorder, I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out. In spite of the consequences, I was more than willing to defy my father or anyone else in a position of authority. I never understood why I did this. I wasn’t a bad kid, and I didn’t want to cause trouble (Well, at least most of the time anyway). Now that I look back on it, I realize that I had a compulsion to behave in a defiant manner. Needless to say, this just added to my troubles. I can’t begin to remember how many beatings this led to.
Double Twister Downtown
In 1957, toward the end of second grade, a double tornado went right down Commerce Street in downtown Dallas. We were living in Mesquite at the time. I remember standing in our front yard, which was up on a hill, and watching that tornado as it tore through downtown Dallas fifteen miles away. My brother and I were standing on either side of my father when I looked up and asked, Daddy, is that where Momma is?
Yes, son,
he said. That’s where Momma is.
Even though I was not old enough to comprehend what a tornado was or how destructive it could be, I still remember how afraid I was. I remember what those tornadoes looked like way off in the distance and how those two dark funnels dropped down out of the clouds. I remember that the double funnel did not last very long. However, I was too far away to see any of the damage that was being done.
Later that evening, my mother came home and told us that everybody in her office had hidden behind anything they could find as the twister went right down the middle of the street in front of her office.
Earning Another Nickname
I didn’t look forward to going to school for a multitude of reasons that only increased as I got older. I often tried to do things that would make the other kids like me. This only worked a couple of times. Most of the time, my attempt to be liked turned into a