Of course I was angry with my parents after my first year parents evening. My wall became even more enforced. I was getting average in English now. I scraped a 2. My writing in art was lack lustre. I wasn't good in art or p.e. or drama in primary school. They took confidence. I used to solve the extra math problems in primary. At high school it began to turn into mumbo jumbo as the years rolled on.
My father was livid I didn't take German. But I had never met my German family! And I never asked him about my family because he was so closed off himself. He ended up speaking about a d^mn raccoon drinking his juice on a golf course in America. Of course I wondered where my surname originated. My gran had early dementia I think when I started to see them on a Saturday. She just knitted away, quiet as a mouse.
The art was from my father. He gave me tips on how to paint, got the ball rolling. Not a master class exactly but how to mix colours by thickening the paint. A touch of water and keep adding and mixing. If I was happy I wouldn't have needed art. If I didn't feel like all everyone did was lie to me, I wouldn't have needed art. When I asked questions he deflected them and made jokes.
He would rather I was learning the periodic table, solving maths and physics problems and that I'd taken all three sciences. But my home was with my mum. My father was far too gone. I knew that. He never told me grans full name. I answered the phone and told her friend she must have the wrong number. And then I realised when I put the phone down and explained to my father. I had spent all these years, with my gran blending in like a ghost.
I never asked him about my grandfather because I didn't even know the truth about his life and his leg. He was secretive. I had been shown my grandfather's medals and military portrait.
My mum was secretive. And ignored my questions too. My gran and granda were repressed. House on fire called them blue nosed to their face. I'd never have done that.
Yes I passed many a period in English, just doodling or thinking of other things. I didn't realise I had this mental block. I just thought it was the way I was wired. I must be a kinetic thinker? Maybe I really am not that intelligent after all. Am I just too sensitive?