I'm nobody's child, nobody's child, Just like a flower, I'm growing wild. Nobody loves me, nobody cares. Nobody wants me, I'm nobody's child. I'm nobody's child, nobody's child. No mama's kisses, no daddy's smiles. Nobody wants me, nobody cares. Nobody needs me, I'm nobody's child.

My problem had never been anything more than an extraordinarily severe case of depression. Eventually the doctors realized this and recommended simply that I leave my husband. "Throw a stone behind you and don't look back," one of them told me. And that is what I did.

I lost count of how many times I took him to church and asked the priest to give my father the pledge, and a little pin you got when you promise God you will stop drinking. But it never worked.

I went back to my hole under the bushes in Phoenix Park. Many nights I quite literally ate paper or cardboard to quell the hunger pangs.

Once, a priest caught me eating candlewax and threw me out. I've never forgotten that. He wore warm clothes, lived in a nice house, and worked in a church where there was gold everywhere. And there I was with nothing but candlewax to eat and he saw fit to throw me out.