I’ve been thinking a lot about my school days. Mainly the years after the abuse took place. As I’m dyslexic I struggled while at school. But my third year at secondary school was possibly the worst year of my life.
It was during the summer of 1985 that I was abused. When I went back to school I felt lost and alone.
Thinking that what had happened to me was “normal”. I lost interest in my favourite subjects and became withdrawn and a loner. I never liked PE but I did it. In my third year my shame took over. I constantly left my kit at home and bunked off PE. There were other subjects I let go. During the first part of that year it was decided that I needed extra help so they got in the psychologists and I was given occupational therapy. Guess what no one twigged that my problems were due to the abuse. So this went on for months. It worked for a while.
My behaviour got markedly worse as the year went on. It ended up with me hitting out a the head teacher. Again no one asked the question ” is there anything wrong?” With it being the third year it came to option time. The thing was by this time I couldn’t careless. Over the next few years I worked as hard as I could but I can’t help thinking what if?
Now days this behaviour would be ringing every bell. I know that I can’t change my past but if I could change one thing it would to speak up and report him.
I wish I could go to my old school and talk to the students and offer some hope to those who are in this position.