Bad Idea.Really Bad Idea.As a hitter, I made a darn good pitcher. Grabbing my bat, I took my time getting to the plate. Hitting was a foreign language...to me. To put it succinctly, I sucked like a Hoover.Little Rock brought in a scrawny guy to pitch to me, who looked like he might pitch, or might simply fall over in a faint. He was so skinny, I wondered how he could keep his pants up, but he had a tremendous fastball, with no movement. If I could catch up to it, I could hurt them.That was. Ross's office, the school psychologist. "How are youfeeling, Tammy?" she asked."Tammy? No, wait, I'm... Tim?" I certainly thought I was Tim. But when Isaid it aloud, my voice was neither certain, nor a boy's."We've been over this, Tammy. There is no Tim. Say it after me." There... is no Tim." Tim is a persona you created as a coping mechanism, in response to yourtraumatic experiences. The school janitor was caught installing cameras inthe restrooms, one of which recorded you. Your mortification. More

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