Children can't go elsewhere. They have no extended social network. Even when things are going right, childhood is a gentle open prison.
As a result of the peculiarities of our early years, we lose balance. Things within us start to develop in wayward directions. The causes of our primal wounds are rarely outwardly dramatic but their effects are rarely insignificant. such is the fragule base of childhood that nothing outwardly dramatic appalling needs to have happened to us for us to wind up inwardly profoundly scrambled.
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