peter
“I remember boarding school very well, especially the relief I felt when I left. It was hell. The nuns either liked or disliked kids and you didn’t really have to do anything special to fall into one of the two groups. There was one nun in there who constantly abused me, almost every day, for the whole seven years. She never abused physically, but for me, it was as bad as she did. She had this habit; when my parents were up in Dublin, they would ask for permission for me to go meet them and she would conveniently forget to tell me and would only remember 2-3 hours later. Or when I used to go out to my grandfather’s on the weekends, he didn’t live too far. One year, suddenly, she decided that if I didn’t have actual written permission from my parents I couldn’t go. My mother wrote letters more than once, but somehow they never arrived. I could never really figure out why she was like this. Was it her nature? I have suffered from depression ever since boarding school, and I know I’m not the only one. It took me years and years to build some confidence in myself again after the years of bullying. I remember going back once, after 25 years, and she was still working there. I remember having a rush in my heart and feeling so scared when I saw her. I didn’t have anything to be afraid of. I could actually just go there and slapped her in the face with a good heart, but I didn’t. I thought about it so much afterwards and I felt frustrated that I wasn’t brave enough to tell her she was the greatest bitch I had ever met. Unfortunately, she is well dead now, so even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I often wonder how many people my age still think about her in the same way.”