I don't really remember a lot about this time in my life. I do know that I hated being left by my parents and I spent a lot of time crying. I do remember a climbing frame that I called the yellow submarine because it was yellow and You could climb through the tunnels. When ever I go to buildingswith that particular wooden smell that the cloakrooms melled of, I am carried back in time.
When we went to the junior school I was terrified and cried and cried. This would happen every time we changed teachers. I was fairly successful at school, but started to hate myself, My mum was religious and insisted on my saying my prayers. One of the central themes of my hatred and quiet lack of confidence was difficult to understand at the time. I look back now and see it had a lot to do with my uncle Billy. He bullied my mercilessly, supposedly to get me ready for high school. He lived with my Gran, who was his mum and with Grandma's brother James..The bullying was to get worse and change in nature and my Gran's attitude didn't help, as did my mother's behaviour
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