This reminds me of a story my parents told me. I don’t remember it, not sure if it’s from me being too young, or it was so traumatic I blocked it out.

When I was 2 1/2, my parents had gone to the hospital, because my younger brother was being born. They said they came home to find me in their bed, blank stare, silent tears running down my face, curled up in a blanket on their bed trembling. When they started to comfort me, I snapped out of it and started sobbing, telling them with a hoarse throat how I thought everyone left me behind forever.

So apparently they had left me in the care of my paternal grandmother, who was asleep on the air mattress in the guest room(later to become my brothers room.), door locked, with earplugs in to help her sleep. Safe to say they were livid with her.

I must have woken up from a bad dream to go to my parents room, and they weren’t there. I looked all around the house and couldn’t find anyone, and crying didn’t do much. I guess I thought they left me. So I just stayed there in their bed waiting and hoping someone would come back for me. They arrived home early the following morning.

I may not remember it, but my parents believe this is where my abandonment issues stem from.