Black Mamba

Prologue Pt. 1

My mother, Daeva Steele, was 16 when she had me. Our family was known for its long line of mental health issues and my mother was no exception. It's uncommon for children to be diagnosed with bipolar I but when my mother was diagnosed with the disorder at 12, no one blinked an eye. It was to be expected from a member of the Steele family.

My mother ran away from home at 14 while having a manic episode. She lived on the streets with other runaways and homeless people who befriended her. She dropped out of school, bounced from job to job, and let her hypomania episodes pull her under. During her manic episodes, my mother would sleep with total strangers whose names and faces she would forget as soon as her high ended. Which is why she never knew who my father was when she ended up pregnant with me.

My mother would always tell me her pregnancy was her wake up call. For nine months, she did everything she could to get a sense of control. She would ask her teen friends who were still in school to teach her whatever they were learning. She kept her job working at a grocery store. Even when her hypomania or depressive episodes kicked in, the first thing she did when she snapped out of it was to get herself checked out to make sure her unborn baby was okay.

If I was asked to sum up my childhood in one word, it wouldn't be "traumatic" or "horrific" or "dysfunctional," as most people would call it.

I'd simply call it "unconventional."

I grew up in an abandoned motel that the city wouldn't even spend money to demolish. The other tenants ranged from runaways, drug addicts and drug dealers, prostitutes, and ex-cons. We- my mother, six of her friends, and I- shared two connecting rooms in that seedy motel. The rooms each only had one bed and enough space for one person to move around in, let alone 4 people; the bathroom only worked consistently in one room. It wasn't a suitable place for anyone to live, let alone raise a child.

And yet, I was content, because there was never a doubt in my mind that my mother and her friends loved and cared about me.

When my mother learned she was pregnant with me, her friends gave her a room to herself and scrapped together what little money they had to buy a crib and baby supplies. When I eventually outgrew my crib, they bought a mattress so I could have the only bed in the room. My mother had her own inner demons due to her bipolar I, but she always did her best to take care of me despite them. One of the first things she taught me was to go next door if she was having an episode. Her episodes could last for up to three weeks and she wanted to make sure I'd have someone watching me when she couldn't. My mother's friends loved me like their own and treated me like an equal. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom's friends showing four-year-old me how to pick a pocket.

While my childhood wasn't perfect, it was arguably better than most. Some kids grow up in mansions, surrounded by everything money could buy, but they're desperate for their parents' love. I didn't live in a mansion and money was scarce, but I never once felt I had to gain my family's love and attention. I had plenty of both.

I was a quiet child, preferring to stay out of the way and do my own thing rather than interact with kids my age. I liked being around my mother and her friends, especially because they doted on me while not treating me like a child. I did very well in school, though my teachers were concerned about my early "antisocial behavior." I was what most people would call "a little grownup." I remember when I was six, one of my mother's closest friends- Brianna- almost gave me a sip of her beer. My mother scolded her, and Brianna's response was to laugh and say, "Oh, come on, Daeva. Lorelai's more grown up than any of us."

When I was 5, my mother- who by then was working as an art gallery assistant- met Tanner Kirk, a highly respected actuary. They met at the gallery where she worked and quickly started dating. It certainly raised a few eyebrows- the great Tanner Kirk dating the slightly eccentric gallery assistant Daeva Steele- but neither seemed to mind. Tanner didn't seem to mind my mother's bipolar disorder or that she came with a kid (though he interacted with me as little as possible which I was just fine with). Perhaps it was her aura and personality that pulled Tanner in despite her baggage. Even as a child, I noticed my mother had an air of mysterious, wild, and slightly hysterical beauty. She had long, pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to echo her frenzied mental state. When she wasn't going through an episode, she was one of the nicest, most compassionate people you'd ever meet.

Two years after meeting, when I was seven, Tanner and my mother got married. Tanner moved us into his house, and we lived fairly well. He was always working or travelling for business, so most times, it was just me and mother. We'd still frequently go to the motel to see my mother's friends; I think my mother honestly missed living with them and would have preferred the crappy rooms to Tanner's big, pristine house. I know I did. Don't get me wrong, having the money to go to a better school and clean clothes and for my mom to get medicine for her bipolar was nice, but it wasn't...homey. Tanner's house felt like him- nice enough on the outside and the inside, but distant and worldly.

Which is probably why it wasn't exactly shocking when five years into the marriage, Tanner revealed he had been having an affair with a colleague for almost three years. He found he was in love with her and wanted her instead. So, he kicked us out and moved her in. Just like that. I was twelve and my mother was twenty-eight, back in the motel. We didn't mind being back in the motel with our true family, but all of us were pissed with Tanner. Needless to say, everyone felt he had to pay for what he'd done.

My mother was a little crazy, but she wasn't an idiot. She paid attention to more than people expected and she knew Tanner was being distant. While she didn't assume affair, she thought it was his business dealings. So, five months before he kicked us out, she did her own investigating and learned he was being paid to look the other way when clients were laundering money. Rather than call him out immediately, she waited. When he kicked us out, she and her friends very calmly gave the evidence to journalists for WSJ, FT, and The Economist and let the fallout result in several arrests, one of them being Tanner's. I'll never forget standing outside his house with my mother and her friends as he was being led out in handcuffs. My mother and her friends chanted "get jinxed" as he was put in the backseat of a police car. Their divorce was finalized before he was sentenced to 10 years in prison.

Like I said, unconventional childhood.

Perhaps it was my unconventional childhood coupled with my family history that had me diagnosed with cyclothymia at fourteen.

I'd always been a mild-mannered, fairly content person. So, when I started experiencing hypomanic and depressive episodes, they were very quickly noticed. Cyclothymia is a milder form of bipolar I, so my mother especially noticed my symptoms and had me seek medical help. The diagnosis did not surprise anyone. It was simply the Steele family curse working its magic.

I found my cyclothymia was marginally easier to accept after watching my mother handle her bipolar disorder for my whole life. I had a better idea of what to expect. During my manic episodes, my energy shoots through the roof, and I feel like I can take on the whole world. I rarely sleep, my brain and mouth move at 100 mph, and I feel like I just have to keep moving or I'll combust. During my manic episodes, I also always say at some point "Get jinxed," as in the phrase my mother and her friends chanted during one of the most influential days of my life. My depressive episodes are less frequent but can only be described as "soul-crushing." I rarely leave my bedroom, I sleep for hours, I can't eat or work, and I just feel...hollow. Empty.

I refused to let my cyclothymia stop me. I graduated high school at 16 and received a full-ride scholarship to Columbia University. I earned my BA in Computer Science- Mathematics in three years and earned all my ethical hacking certifications in a year. Now, at the age of 25, I am one of the most sought-after ethical hackers in the country.

But my academic and professional records are not my greatest achievement.