Today's appointment with the psychiatrist has left me thinking about things, relecting on the past. I mean Ive been doing that a bit of late. My Childhood sucked. Sure there were some good moments but the way I remember it, right or wrong, it was shit. Ive touched on some of this Ive touched on in the past maybe all of it but I feel like writing about it again in light of the recent diagnosis.
My schooling years were scarred by pretty intense bullying. Primary school was primarily being ostracize, if there was any interaction it was taunting, teasing etc. There was a bit of physical abuse, especially in later years. I never found a place, in primary school. It wasnt like a big school, it was R-12 and a few hundred students. We lived in a small country town that was very sports orientated. So if you're not into sports your on the outs before you begin. That was the only real group at school, unlike bigger schools there are different groups so your almost always going to fit with some group or another.
When I moved to year 8 we were joined by students from nearby primary schools. So towns in the district had primary schools but our school was the only local school to have a secondary school as well. I was still hated and now by even more kids, except these kids were violent, in addition to all the bullying from primary school I could include regular physical abuse. It could be pretty intense abuse, my parting gift in year 12 from one of my bullies was a fly kick to the head knocking me out.
So school wasnt great an dit left me scared and as it turns out with a diagnosis of complex-PTSD. I did report the abuse and bulling to anyone that would listen, teachers, my parents etc. But nothing really ever happened either because they couldnt or were unsuccessful. I did try and get my parents to move me to boarding school but they either couldnt afford it or wouldnt.
Home had its on issues we lived in a very strict and religious house. Dad was deeply involved in the local church becoming someone who would preach regularly. He was on the board. He played guitar etc. Mum sang and we regularly had church people over for meetings, dinner etc. From as early as I could I became the person making coffee for everyone. I wasnt part of the conversation, the hi, welcome etc. I was on the outs at home. I had no school friends, so these people even though much older, were the only 'friends' I had and I was constantly pushed aside.
Music was an expectation, we had to learn an instument, I chose guitar I was ok but not great. But that wasnt enough I also had to learn piano, which I was horrible at. I dont think I did it long. I cant read music, despite the efforts of my teacher. Guitar, well rythem is just cords and that I could do but the fancy lead guitar, not a hope.
When it came to chosing subjects to study, Mum basically took over that role, Math and English were madatory, I liked and did well with Math but English, in year 12 I ended up having to have a tutor, I was not very good at it. When it came to what I wanted to do career wise, Mum basically decided that I was to be a teacher, it worked well with my main goal of being a missionary, something I am glad I didnt pursue (missionary).
In year 12 I kinda broke a bit and couldnt study, my grades dropped and in the end I was unable to get into University for teaching, I dont think I would have got in for much at all.
Mum was a perfectionist and the house was to remain spotless pretty much at all times. There is a story of Mum cleaning up my Lego as I was playing with it. She was also, still is, very controlling, it was her way or her way. Dad was away alot with work during the week so there was no balancing, not that he would anyhow as he was controlled by her as much as anyone. I would have to make her every coffee she wanted before and after school and that was a lot of coffee, like heaps. It felt like she was making a reason to push me away, even if it was briefly.
Mum was what I would consider aggressive, especially if she didnt get her way. There was always yelling and screaming about something, her and Dad would fight alot, more than I would consider normal. You were, and we are now for different reasons, on edge. I was always really anxious growing up.
Either Mum and Dad were unaware, though I am sure I told them, or my feelings or they didnt care. Being older and seeing how Mum and Dad are now, Mum didnt care she wanted what she wanted and how she wanted it and she didnt care how that was achieved. Dad is very much not a fan of confrontation so he didnt argue with her and he didnt stand up for me
So there was abuse as school and to a degree at home, I didnt feel safe at either place. I cant think there is a point, other than when I lived alone that I did actually feel safe.
