Resumo de The Psychologyof Addictions

My pattern of growth from infancy, later as a toddler and a boy at school, has been greatly different from that of others of my own age group in the way I accounted for my time. During the period I was an embryo in my mother?s womb my parents were residing as tenants in a house owned by a gentleman whose family was, by unbroken tradition from earlier generations, staunch devotees of god. At their advice, my mother devoted a great deal of her time daily to reading the books of knowledge in a vernacular version. Thus I had the unique advantage of being fed knowledge of god while yet to enter the world. I did not have the good fortune of breast-feeding and was brought up on a diet of Glaxo and Ostermilk, since my mother was wholly opposed on sentimental grounds to the engagement of a wet nurse. Up to the time I turned ten, I was not only sickly with liver problems but also so dependent on signs rather than words as a means of communication with others. My parents had cause to wonder whether I was a deaf-mute, but they were assured by Medical specialists that it was a problem more psychological than organic and would cease in a few years with my inter-mixing with others at school, play etc. I had certainly no hearing difficulty at all since I was easily grasping what was taught to me at school. Probably because of some deep-rooted inhibitor in my nature, they could not succeed in developing in me any interest in play or games. I only used, as a dressed doll, seated in the porch of our house, watch other boys play in the street in the post-school hours. I had, however, an insatiable passion for reading and pounced upon anything that I could lay my hands on. My father found in this an encouraging sign of added significance together with the fact of my being a student far above average at school. He gave me a general go-ahead in this regard, assuming that, in the choice of what I actually read, I would take guidance from him and my teachers. That is where, with my venturesome curiosity, I exceeded my bounds and was secretly exposing myself incautiously to insidious influences not conducive to normal growth. It would suffice, I think, to say that I read at the tender age of fourteen a German author?s treatise on what he considered ?lies? which human beings set store by ? the idea of a God being one of them. I do not want to speak of other material. At this advanced age it makes me tremble like an aspen leaf to imagine what an amorphously morbid character I could have become but for the grace of God, with the regular intake of such indigestible stuff at an impressionable stage.

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