I only know now how messed up it is that I had to learn to cook and clean from such a young age. I was made to clean the house every day. And occasionally I was in charge of cooking meals. My grandmother had a long whip that used to hang in the kitchen and I got smacked with it for 'mouthing off'.
"If you're doing something, you're going to do it right", "There's a place for everything and everything is to be in it's place", etc.
There were beatings for not putting the dishes in the right tray on the dishwasher and times I got smacked just for asking "Why?"
Eventually I started to believe it when Grandma would tell me that it was for my own good and that I she was the only one that cared. If I did something to her "standards" I got to read a book or got a VHS movie. If not I got locked in my room. I always looked forward to reading novels. Even as a Kindergartner I was reading things like Stephen King.
My bedroom may have been a decent size and I had a TV and games and books, yet it had a latch on the outside and I spent every night in there with a bucket to go to the bathroom. One that I had to wash every 'morning' at 12 am before we went out to deliver newspapers. Originally we were doing home delivery and I had to insert and bag the papers every morning. If I fell asleep I got smacked upside the back of the head and got told to stand up to finish. at least I got to sleep during deliveries. Once we got home around 5 to 6 am I had to take a shower real quick and then get ready to get dropped off at school. When I was in 1st grade I found out that I had ADHD and that was the rise of my life taking medicine. Had to take everything from Ritalin to Concerta.
That was my life until halfway through 3rd grade when it came out that I was 'Gifted' and had to change schools and lose my few friends. I never fit in the new school, I had an abusive 4th grade teacher who called me a retard and used to accuse me of " undermining her authority" because I would help the kids who were lagging behind by showing them where they were going wrong. That's one of the times my Grandmother stepped in for my sake. Got her fired. Once I graduated from 5th grade, there was a meeting between my grandparents, my 5th grade teacher and the middle school I was supposed to go to because of how I was not only 'gifted' but also 'special needs'. Appearantly the middle school said that I was too 'high risk' and they were unable to meet me needs so I was pulled into homeschool and my grandmother was to be my teacher.
Thus my middle school life began...