I also remember in grade three..I was a difficult student, had a hard time learning...couldn't read or write very well, and my math was no better...Failed grade 3 and failed grade 5...very hard on me...but I remember on day in grade 3 we were doing art...We were suppose to paint a picture with the sun, green grass fences...you know the usual thing, well I instead just painted my art paper pure black...When the teacher approached me, she became very alarmed and began to ask me questions as to why I only used black paint...I remember not being able to answer her with any kind of a reasonable answer...She wisked my painting away from me and the next thing I knew I had serveral appointments set up for me with a theropist at the Montreal Childrens Hospital. They had me drawing things, building things, they had wires stuck to my head taking readings of my brain....it was quite the thing....I remember always feeling alone, I was in a world of my own. I'd wake up crying in the middle of the night. I would lay there wishing I wasn't born, and wanting to leave my family...It was like this most of my childhood....I know that this stems from my fathers abuse...After some of the thrashings, I wouldn't even know where I was...and would wake up in the middle of the night with my backside on fire...I try to look at school photos of me and I can't...I just can't stand to look into my eyes...Them photos are buried deep and hidden...