School

School. The place where so many of my issues came from.

People say you look back on your school days as the best days of your life. Fucking bullshit. Those were the worst days. I have been through some shit storms in my life but school was 11 years of continuous terror. I relate to women who have been in narcissistic relationships, not because I have been in one but because I was trapped in a hell called school. And there was no way out of the daily terror.
I remember my first day at school. 41 years ago was my first day, aged 5. My mother taking me there and leaving me alone. In a room full of strangers. I remember the abject fear. The teacher was kind to me on that day. That was at least something. I did not know a single person in that entire school.
That was my introduction to feeling alone.
Corporal punishment was in. There was no permission required from parents and no need to notify them either. They could assault and humiliate you in any way they wanted and it was ok. They had one teacher who dealt out all the punishment. He was a brutal, sadistic fuck who reveled in his job. He had 2 favorites. A leather strap. He named it herbie. It was not a belt. This thing was custom built to inflict maximum pain upon its victim. His second one was a small wooden bat. He would put a massive x on it with chalk and belt you with it. On your ass. He would check you throughout the day and if the chalk came off he would do it again.
That was my introduction to making myself invisible.
I managed to avoid both of those punishments. It was years of walking on eggshells, never stepping out of line.
I only encountered him once on the wrong side of things. I had failed to complete some work. Just couldn't do it. I was sent off to see him. Knew I couldn't disobey, I couldn't run. That was a hard walk to his room with my books. He stood me up in front of his class of 30 kids and proceeded to scream at me while the kids laughed at me. I held myself together throughout the barrage. It wasn't until he suddenly smacked me on the head with my book that I broke.
That was my introduction to public humiliation.
Autistic and Asperger's didn't exist back then. You were just a weird misfit and there was no help class sizes were around 30 kids I think. I don't remember the exact number. It was loud. So loud every day, it was intolerable and excruciating and it didn't let up.
That's where I learned  about inescapable psychological torture while not being able to articulate what was wrong.
I could read. I was reading full length novels at age 6, famous 5 was a favorite series, an escape from reality. The thing was, I  didn't read fast. I took in and read every single word. It was a slow process but I still read and devoured these novels. But because I lacked speed I was put in with the slow readers. Forced to drudge my way through books for babies. They held no interest for me so I had trouble with them.
That was when I first learned that I was stupid.
I remember waiting as the bell rang in the morning and the teacher coming to class. Wondering what their mood was going to be like that day. Were they going to be happy and it would be less terror or were they in a bad mood. Were we about to wear what ever had happened to them the night before
That was when I learned I was controlled by the random moods of others.