When I was in preschool, I believe my mother was suffering from post-natal depression after having my baby sister. Her sadness was the explosive type, and I was at the front of the hailstorm. Father was always absent. My grandmother have to take me away from her "loving" hands. I was a prime target for bullies at school. I got things stolen, alienated, called names, shoved and humiliated on a daily basis. I wasn't sissy or anything; I was described to have a stupid look in my face, and that was enough.
And the teachers treated me so; sent me to special classes for the challenged in learning. When I retaliated at the bullies, I get the punis