This is a true story of mental illness, children, and how our society fails them. Early on in my life, there was a time period when my family was whole, my childhood was rather normal, life was simple, and everything was rainbows and unicorns. This has always been a time period that I've enjoyed remembering and going back to within my mind, too. These were the Rockford Court years, and I'm very happy to now be sharing them with you. When I was born in 1968, however, I had blue skin, I was having seizures at birth, and I would end up being diagnosed with an 'undiagnosable brain dysfunction.' I would go on to spend a large portion of my childhood on strong, mind-altering anti-seizure meds and from there, ultimately, as an adult, I would have to be committed to five different psychiatric institutions in four different states before finally having to be declared officially disabled for psychiatric-based reasons. And while the die had already been cast and those wheels had already begun to slowly start turning, their effect had yet to be felt and their consequences had yet to take hold. Yes, the Rockford Court years were GOOD years. And these are my Rockford Court Recollections.