Painful

Now comes the painful part of the show. I have blocked a lot of this out of my mind, but what I can remember, I will relate. I don't ask for your pity, but I want you to understand. Beginning in 7th grade, and going through 9th grade, I got beaten up every single day at school. I was pushed down stairs; spat on; pushed into bushes; hit; tripped; books knocked to the ground; food knocked off in the cafeteria; hair set on fire; and stuffed into lockers. I am sure there is more, but that's all I remember. Every day, my peers told me I was no good. During 8th grade, I took our school annual and crossed out all of the kids who had done something to me that year. There were 3 kids not crossed out. When I would complain to teachers about what was happening to me, the kids would get punished, and then I would get beaten worse after school, so I learned not to say anything. One day, I told the bullies that I had invented a robot that was going to zap them, if they didn't stop. I showed them the plans that I had drawn up. That actually stopped the bullies for a couple of days, until they demanded to see the robot. I couldn't produce it, so they beat me up more. Coming home from school one day, 3 kids jumped me and threw me into some rose bushes. I was cut up pretty bad. When I got home, my parents called the police, but they said they couldn't do anything, as it was my word against theirs. Yeah, I threw myself into the thorns. So, it became apparent that no one would help me. My parents couldn't afford to send me to private school, so I had to suffer. I developed a severe inferiority complex. My parents sent me to a psychiatrist. I found that there were kids in my group therapy that were more screwed up than me. The group was taking up much of my time, so I had to leave. I was also in Boy Scouts. That was a bit of a distraction from what was going on around me, but I didn't stay with that either. The school told my parents that I had the 2nd highest IQ ever to come through that school. I found out later that it was around 160. I was a genius. I also wanted to kill myself. I tried six times with obviously no success. Pills, knives and suffocation were my choices. Unfortunately, my parents didn't believe in having guns. Good thing, huh? In addition, I got involved with a ring of thieves. Kids from my church tried to outdo one another in stealing stuff. I got involved with that. Preacher's kid. One afternoon, when I was 15, I got caught stealing a book from a store. I convinced the guy that I had never done it before. I should have gone to jail, because I had been stealing for a couple of years. They turned me over to my parents. That afternoon, we went out to Sesqui Park. My father took me out to the middle of the lake on this boat. I thought he was going to throw me in the water, but he didn't. We just had a talk. I didn't steal after that. I just wanted to belong. I just wanted somebody to like me. I just wanted to die. The next year changed my life. Next time--a purpose.