To the uniformed the idea that getting out of the place-of-humiliation (home) might seem harsh, or at least a little like whining.
What kid doesn't think that of home?
I never realized how many didn't until I left and found things different.
I had mentioned my mother hated me. That seems extreme. I can confidently say she at least didn't like me at all. Hate might be more of an investment of emotion she would make in me. I was the blame for everything in her life that went wrong. I could tell. If I walked int he house after school I could normally expect to be slapped in the face for something, usually something dredged up to justify her need to slap SOMETHING. I have a durable face, good for slapping.
If things were not that bad, I could at least expect to generate a strong-language rebuke for something. I was usually just a "little a***ole", "never-any-good", or, if a response had been requested from me a "bawn-liah" (she had a pronounced New England accent with an "r" shortage.
By the time I was about 13, I realized that this would be the status quo until I could do something about it... like leave.
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