Memories of being young?

I remember my childhood so vividly.  I remember being what I would call reasonably 'normal' up until around age 6, when something happened at school that I still hark back to as the time when my 'differences' became more apparent, and when I started to both fall behind the others and to isolate more.  By 10, the template was pretty much set on the way I've been ever since.

I was a happy child, and I have happy memories.  It was the time before innocence gave way to experience and understanding, and reflection.  We were poor - but we had some magical Christmases and holidays.  I was a little older than the other kids in the street, so I became a sort of 'leader'.  I loved Batman, and had a Batman outfit one Christmas.  So I was the street's Batman.  I had fantasies of rescuing people.  Fantasy was a big part of my life, actually.  Even then, I used to spend a lot of time alone in imaginative play.  It felt safe and gave me a lot of pleasure - drawing comic strips with matchstick men, making up 'plays' with my soft toys, etc.  I also - I remember this very clearly - began to masturbate at a very young age.  Certainly before I started school.

I was okay at school to begin with.  I was way ahead of everyone else in my first year in reading and spelling - though my handwritiing was, as still is, atrocious.  Then, that thing happened.  Each day we had 'number practice'.  The teacher would give us a sheet of paper with the numeral of the day at the top, and we had to fill the sheet in with that numeral and hand it in.  I did them all automatically, because I could already count up to 100 and knew what all the numbers looked like.  That particular day, though - after handing my sheet in - I was called out to the front and told I'd done it wrong.  The teacher - I can still remember what she looked like and what she was wearing - gave me a piece of chalk and told me to write the number - 3 - on the board.  By the end of what was probably just a few minutes, but felt like hours, the board was full of the numeral 3 - and each one, she told me, was wrong.  'It doesn't go like that!' was the refrain, each time I drew a 3... over and over and over.  In the end, I was drawing back-to-front 3s, 3s on their sides, different numbers entirely.  The class was in hysterics.  I remember hearing the words 'idiot', 'stupid', etc. being thrown at me - from the teacher as well as my peers.  My world was suddenly turned upside-down.  I was doing something that I knew to be right - but I was being told by an authority figure, and all of my classmates, that it was wrong.  Turns out that the only thing I was doing 'wrong' was not giving the 3 a flat top... as she wanted it, and as she'd drawn it on my sheet.

That day, I maintain, was the start of things going wrong.  The episode has hung heavily over my life.  To this day, even if I know I'm right about something, I don't say anything for fear of being told it's wrong.  If I get pulled up by somebody because of a mistake, it troubles me for days.  If I find a way of doing something that works for me, but someone questions it - I go to pieces.  I don't know if I have some kind of learning problem or if it's simply the trauma of that time that makes learning problematic for me (so it could be PTSD-related).  Possibly a combination - and autistic people certainly experience and respond to trauma in a way that NTs probably don't.    I know, in spite of being bright,  I failed my 11+.  I know that I was bottom of the year at my first secondary school - all the way through.  At my second - a comprehensive - I was put in the 'grammar' stream for some lessons (for some reason!), where I was like the village idiot.  I left school early, with no qualifications, and somehow thought that my education was over and that I knew everything I needed to know.  It took me a few years to realise the truth.  Then I caught up a bit and went to uni at 28.  I got a good degree.  I'd had my IQ Mensa-tested, and belonged to Mensa.  I knew I had something after all. 

But many of my problems, I still feel, started that day in the school room.  Or, at least, that's where my 'differences' first became apparent to me - even if it was just a small lapse of concentration, or simply taking for granted something I already knew.  Learning has always been a problem for me.  I struggle with things like language-learning.  I've played the piano for 40 years, but still can't play a piece without making a mistake, and still can't really understand relations between notes, chords, etc.  I can only play pieces I've learned note by note.  I can't improvise.  At school, I was called a 'lazy learner' - but I need a motivation and interest in order to learn something.  I also, though, have attention-deficit problems.  The result is that, though I sound erudite - and people tell me I'm high-minded - I have a head that is basically a scrap-book.  I know a little about a lot, and a lot about very little.  I have no confidence in my abilities.  I go to pieces in arguments and discussions... then retire away to lick my wounds.  It's why I write, I suppose - my preferred means of communication.  Because I can think first.  I can marshal together the things that I need to back up what I say.  And I can say it without interruption, in full confidence.  Also... no one has to see my face as I do it!

Well decided to resurrect yet another very old post I did, recently I have been having a lot of flash back memories from when I was young,,,,none pleasant, in fact some bought me to tears as the sudden sharp imagery flashed up in my head, ouch ouch.

I will possibly post more but it is late.

thank you if you made it this far.

x()x

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date-30/12/2017 time 04:50.

Wow, seven schools by 12. That must have been really disruptive. And to be asked to leave a special school, that's not a good message for a child. Sorry to hear about all that, seems you had a lot of horrible stuff to face.

Similar memories here.

School was a nightmare and I missed so much of it because I couldn't cope with it.

Hated PE.  Problems with school dinners, although my mother was responsible. Warning me, not to eat this and not to eat that etc.  She had food obsessions and phobias.  And she tried to transfer that on to me.

First special school I attended was a disaster,. I got thrown out due to not fitting in.  There was irony there which I will not go into.

Second special school I went to was enjoyable but no teaching took place.  I have previously described it on this site.

In fact by the age of 12 I was in my 7th school.

I have many memories of school, almost all of them of a nightmare-ish quality. I remember when i was very young at Infant school, i always tried to be a good kid. I really thought i was being well behaved. But i seemed to inspire such hatred from the teachers. They were often shouting at me, they got right in my face and held me tightly by the arm. It was terrifying. Looking back it makes me sad that adults would feel anger when looking at a small child that is crying and trying to hide. Seems astonishing to me. I was (and still am) very slow at physical tasks, like getting changed, so PE was a right pain! Just trying to get my coat from the cloakroom was a big ask because there were so many other children in there. Dinner-times were usually disasters too with foods that were too hot or of alarming textures. Mostly at that age the other children kept away from me. I don't think i currently have the energy to describe my memories of Secondary school. However, i would say that i enjoyed my childhood overall because i got on very well with both my sisters, so i am very grateful for that.

Well I haven’t much to add to memories of being young but wanted to relive some precious moments or what I now call “fond memories”.

Recently I have been struggling with things in my head, lots happening and trying to cope hasn’t been easy,

So I decided to come back here where everything ended with such positive comments and much friendship and banter.

The heartfelt comments towards me are very healing,they were then and are more so now.

It would be so nice if some one started a thread for non serious ramblings of mixed up kind people. A place to unwind or just share life experiences.

Feel free to add to here if you want or just ramble if you choose.

My mind has quietened after rereading the varied replies on here.

thank you everybody who contributed. Friends.

x

Goodnight everyone.

Yes really chuffed so far. Hadn't realised how much it needed doing. The white is white and the colours warm but softer than I had before. I have picture rails in all the rooms so every room is white above that. Still a bit left to do on Monday. But for once it was a good decision!! 

Mmmmmm....planting flowers in holes... 

so, the new decor good? 

Yes we need humour to do that when we remember! x

All good stuff...it helps to balance out the down times...and level the scales x

And I love cringingly the two soups sketch and I also love the two Ronnies 4 forks sketch but Billy can get me laughing out loud I watch him on YouTube sometimes. Yes all sorts of 4 and 4xtra make me smile.. or cringe. 

Love Monty Python and Victoria Wood. Billy is just crazy Billy....a soul set free.

love the Goon Show on the radio (and others)

beat me on the bottom with a Women's Weekly....plus...what time is it Eccles...the latter really pushes ASD logic! Lol 

Lol! Monty python , billy Connolly, Victoria wood, antics of pets & innocence of youth is a good one, some comedy on the radio

The futility of life?

a crazy pet cat?

innocence of youth?

anarchy

skapstick

hysteria 

I read other people's lives on here some much more challenging than mine and I write about my own. Then I look at what I've written and think I should be doing so much more to help myself and make use of all the good advice on here but I just feel exhausted and stuck and continue to make one mistake after the other. Then I think how selfish to share my despair and use other people's energy to soak it up. I even rang to make an apt with my Gp but they are away for an extended time so can't talk to her either. I've had bad patches before it will change just as it's done before.. 

ok what makes you laugh? 

Lol....you ok?

Yes I did think of that but it was too funny! 

I'm on just one day at a time at the moment. Haven't made plans yet. Will have more of a look at the decorating as left the chap to get on and kept out of his way! If it's fine will try to get out for a walk or drive

the camera will just have photos of the shed! :p