How do you like the cat? Kitty, kitty, kitty

And so it began, my quest to be "normal". Mrs. Montagano, bitch, was my Kindergarten teacher and she wanted to break me. While I was normally an obedient child. I could feel her icy cool demeanor hid one evil bitch. She told us on the first day we were to bring in "grubbies" so we could clean the classroom. She didn't feel the custodian should have to do this as we were all young snd able bodied. My mother threw the biggest fit of her life when she heard this and I am certain that contributed to the treatment I received the rest of the year. When u would see the other class in the hallway they looked happy and well, alive. My class didn't dare break so much as a smile without the wrath of that tyrant. I was living with and being raised by a screamer. Having it at school just compounded what I now know was my budding anxiety. Despite the fact that I wasn't disruptive and her issues with me were of a personal nature she sat me so far in back of the classroom I was almost sitting in the doorway. Then she had enough nerve to question my sight and hearing. Lynda lost it big time and the treatment got worse. I was never allowed playtime after finishing my work like the rest of that class. Perhaps even worse, I never got to go in the bathroom and find the inflatable letter person hiding in there. Being my mothers child one day I made this mistake of asking her directly why she didn't like me. She told me that I had a silly name. A silly name for a silly girl, she said. This of course, bred contempt for my name thinking if only I was one of the legions of Jennifer's that I would also be happier in life and not so silly. I started on a quest to change my name. This upset my father terribly so I felt I couldn't discuss it at home so I took my cause to school. My mom's name was Lynda, Lynda with a Y. Lynda was a lot of things, few of them truly good, but she had the most lovely penmanship that I have ever seen. She grew up dirt poor and basically said that was her entertainment. Writing her name over and over again for something to do. A friend told me that her mother basically did and said the same thing. The sad part is that her mother grew up in concentration camp. Makes me wonder not for the first time despite the cheery slant Lynda put on her upbringing, the horrors that she also saw and experienced that made her into who she was. My mother would sign her name lavishly. Almost over the top, with the standard script L later blazoned on Laverene's shirt that everyone coveted. I decided that since I wasn't normal, I would be someone else. Who better than my lovely, perfumed, bouffanted, emotionally and physically unavailable mother? I mean, it had to start at home to some degree, my teacher didn't like me, but how could she like a silly girl who's own mom didn't love her? Why else would she always been running somewhere, desperate to escape me? Dumping me on my dad or grandparents. Ignoring me unless it suited her needs at the time. So, I decided my name was no longer, Sondra and instead started writing my name on my work as Lynda. I could actually write it in cursive as well as print, something that I was quite proud of. This was Mrs. Montagano's undoing. She lost her fucking mind. She would stand above me waiting for me to write my name on a paper so she could start shrieking. I started writing my "chosen" name on the paper, last after I finished the work so I wouldn't have to hear her yell all that time. One day she had enough of it. She had sent letters home bitching and belaboring how "uncontrollable" I was and that I was a distraction to the other children b/c I wrote my "chosen" name on my work. She threatened to make me clean the toilet and then she sent me to the principals office. Of course, I was quaking in my boots, nobody had ever been sent there before that was in my class. Our principal was a kindly man in his late thirties, he spoke with a leisurely drawl with no trace of an accent. He chose his words very thoughtfully and was beloved by all. After we moved four years later, he was killed while jogging by a drunk driver. He sat down with me and explained just how important it was that I got the recognition I deserved for the good work that I did. I explained that I didn't get positive reinforcement and ran down my list of horrors in the classroom. While my mother was being called, he went and pulled the bitch into a meeting immediately. I am sure that meeting wasn't to her liking, b/c she was sugary sweet for about two days before she started back in on me again. Along with her starting back in on me, I started back in on her by once again refusing to use my own name. Finally, my beloved Gramma got involved and explained to me that my name wasn't silly. That she, herself had named me and she thought it was the loveliest name she had ever heard. She also told me that she expected her loveliest girl to hold her head up high and remember there were mean people in the world who would never understand someone as gentle and sensitive as I was. So, that was that. Back to being me, I didn't go out of my way to hide who I was or my name anymore but I still wished that I was normal and not so, silly or later, crazy for being unique. And the fight goes on, internally..............even as I lie to myself and try to pretend it doesn't Just a song that's in me today......no point of reference I really notice that you don't sleep at night Say why do you worry, why you hurting inside? Who's hurt you baby? I like you a lot You are so beautiful and that is a fact Yeah, yeah Jealous I watch the sun, it cuts through the cloudy skies It heals these wounds and makes me glad to be alive So don't you worry, no don't you worry I'll make you happy, happy Yeah, yeah Something's wrong, something's wrong with you Jealous, yeah Something's really wrong, something's wrong with you Jealous, Jealous, Jealous, Jealous Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah Jealous, Jealous I spot two lovers on the Old Brompton Road I feel so jealous, I need someone to hold Who's hurt you baby? I Like you a lot I look at you and I know that something's up Something's wrong, something's wrong with you Jealous Something's really wrong, something's wrong with you Jealous, Jealous, Jealous, Jealous How do you like the cat Kitty, kitty, kitty