# Things your parents did that you hated, but...



## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

...in the end they made you stronger.

Posting in a different thread lately caused some old thoughts to surface. Not a terrible thing, but mental movies playing in my head that I haven't thought about since I had to face some emotional demons on my path to enlightenment.

none of this really bothers me at the moment, because I killed those devils long ago. But it's strange how the mind works recalling things.

As some history, my mother was physically abusive. So was my grandmother. They were both past the edge of nutso. 
For instance, if one of us spilt some milk, then my mother used to line us all up, facing the wall, and beat us with a belt until we said sorry enough. Not just the accused, we all took punishment for one another ( I learned at the very young age of 6 to just admit to anything right off the bat, and take the 10 straps across the back for being the one that caused it all..after looking at the panic and fear on my younger sisters face-and to spare her the coming pain).

Then my grandmother....I was staying over there one weekend...and I was able to take my bike over there too. I was about 8, and goofing around and trying to jump curbs, I wiped out, but bent my pedal. In retrospect...if you were a third person watching a movie at what happened next, it would probably be a funny gag scene. I took my bike back to the house. But my grandma looked at me, then at my bike, and turned around. What I didn't notice when she turned around, as I bent over to grab my shoes or something, was the mop she picked up, and took a swing across my back. I remember feeling it, and also hearing the splintering of the wood. What I don't remember is the 40 minute drive back home after I woke up in my own bed.

Anyways...back to the topic. While these things definitely stunted my emotional growth, and created my own crazy that i had to overcome...money can't buy the bond between my sister and I. And strangely enough...we never run out of stories to talk about when we meet up at family functions....and laugh at the crazy.

I guess looking back at a positive, us siblings have a strong sense of loyalty towards each other, and I guess that's something that makes us stronger, in the end.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

Fk. Re reading that...

That's pretty depressing and dark.

Sorry TAMmers.


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## happy as a clam (Jan 5, 2014)

AO... I'm speechless. Glad you think it made you stronger, but your mother and grandmother should have been in jail. Today, they would be.


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## HeartbrokenW (Sep 26, 2012)

We were basically poor growing up. We lived in the country, had a huge garden, mom canned everything so we had food all winter long. We worked in the garden every summer. We raised chickens and pigs. We didn't participate much in school activities because it cost gas money to drive in to town to pick us up. We got picked on in school because of the clothes we wore and we hated it.

We didn't have much.. but we appreciated what we had. We learned to work hard to get ahead, and we learned not to be frivolous. We learned a good work ethic. Now.. looking back..thank you, mom and dad.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

Yeah. It was a different world, not even so very long ago.

A time when you could shove all the kids in the very back end of the station wagon, throw in a couple of pillows and blankets, and go on a 16 hour road trip. 

Now...I have to buy 3 differ child seats and two types of booster seats, each with a five point harness...just for each kid as they grow out of the last one.

In all my crazy....not once would I ever raise a hand to my kids, now or ever. I have this private joke with them when they spill something...."ok kids...time to line up!"

I tried explaining why I use that phrase when they asked why, once. They just rolled thier eyes at me like I was full of the biggest pile of horse in the universe.


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## Fozzy (Jul 20, 2013)

AO, is your mother still in your life? I'm hoping you and your kids do not have contact with her.


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## the guy (Aug 3, 2010)

My folks would always say "that's why we can't have nice things".....

When ever I would make a loud bang, drop something or knock something over i would here "that's why we can't have nice things"!

Was it my fault I got drop on my head when I was a baby?


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

No, she died a long time ago.

When my grandmother died, I remember looking at her in her coffin. I also remember the only words that came to mind were, "see ya! *****!". I was about 15 then.

When my mother died, it was strange. We could remember all the bad, but also the good. No one cried for her, none of us. But we did feel some loss and empathy at the time.


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## tangled123 (Jan 18, 2015)

Great thread!
Father had affair when I was an infant, mother threw him out, they got divorced, he married his AP and abandoned us, I grew up with grandma waiting and longing for father's love until I turned 12 and gave up. Grandma was a hard working woman who lived with my grandpa despite his flaws for the sake of her children. 

I am not sure if this has made me stronger or weaker but I am who I am because of this.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

HeartbrokenW said:


> We were basically poor growing up. We lived in the country, had a huge garden, mom canned everything so we had food all winter long. We worked in the garden every summer. We raised chickens and pigs. We didn't participate much in school activities because it cost gas money to drive in to town to pick us up. We got picked on in school because of the clothes we wore and we hated it.
> 
> We didn't have much.. but we appreciated what we had. We learned to work hard to get ahead, and we learned not to be frivolous. We learned a good work ethic. Now.. looking back..thank you, mom and dad.


Did you have any geese? Those evil fkn things!

That was my job when I was really young. I had to get the eggs. Except the geese lived there too. And they were my height. 

Every. Single. Fkn. Time! Bite marks on my ass!

I remember at that ripe moment, old enough to get brave...I kicked that honking beotch right across the barn when she came up to me for the last time.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

I would have appreciated more softness in my soul but the odyssey called my childhood made me tough in an almost unreal fashion. I have never even come close to losing a fight. Not even against multiple opponents. Past my 14th year, I had absolutely no fear of anyone and have never been afraid of people since.

I regret the thing I had to become to survive. I miss my childhood almost daily but there are those over the years who I've saved from one threat or another, far from the least of these are six souls who would not be today without my hard soul. My little sister and her five children. I love you sister. I am sorry I can't say that to you the way I want to. I am sorry our childhood love for each other was devastated by what was done to us. I think you're beautiful and so are your children. I will never regret saving you, even though it cost me something, something soft and human was the payment I gave that day. 

Looking at pictures of you and your beautiful children, it seems worth it.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## tangled123 (Jan 18, 2015)

alphaomega said:


> ...in the end they made you stronger.
> 
> Posting in a different thread lately caused some old thoughts to surface. Not a terrible thing, but mental movies playing in my head that I haven't thought about since I had to face some emotional demons on my path to enlightenment.
> 
> ...


This is hard for children, I work with them and it makes me very sad 

But glad you have come out stronger and wiser


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

ConanHub said:


> I would have appreciated more softness in my soul but the odyssey called my childhood made me tough in an almost unreal fashion. I have never even come close to losing a fight. Not even against multiple opponents. Past my 14th year, I had absolutely no fear of anyone and have never been afraid of people since.
> 
> I regret the thing I had to become to survive. I miss my childhood almost daily but there are those over the years who I've saved from one threat or another, far from the least of these are six souls who would not be today without my hard soul. My little sister and her five children. I love you sister. I am sorry I can't say that to you the way I want to. I am sorry our childhood love for each other was devastated by what was done to us. I think you're beautiful and so are your children. I will never regret saving you, even though it cost me something, something soft and human was the payment I gave that day.
> 
> ...


I have the utmost respect for you, friend.

Do you have children, Conan? I find the time spent immersed in the wonders of my children's imagination, and the fact that they find it in thier hearts to share that imagination with me on a daily basis (even force me to on my less energetic days), more than makes up for some of the less idealistic moments of my youth. 

There's nothing more enjoyable than making the neighbors give us strange looks as I pretend to be an evil Jedi in my front yard, chasing my kids around with one of those glwing light sabers, after they dress up in thier puppy and frog costumes, and I was sent by the evil Ice King to destroy all pets in the world! And they use thier plastic hand grenade endowed with special sleeping powers given to them by the magical dog Jake, to conquer all the evil pet destroyers in the universe once and for all. 

I see that in my sister, too. She's such a wonderful mother. I'm grateful beyond measure she didn't follow in the same crazy as me.


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## that.girl (Aug 27, 2014)

My mother is undiagnosed and highly unstable. In my teenage years, she went through a phase where whenever she got mad about something, she would threaten to abandon us or kill herself. She once threatened me with suicide because I made beef instead of chicken for dinner. If i got upset or cried when she was acting out, she considered this a victory and continued to push the button she had just found until she got bored. I spent this period caring for her and my little brother and working two jobs, while she drank away much of my pay. 

I learned to care for children and run a household. I learned to handle myself around sketchy men with bad intentions (you can imagine what her boyfriends were like). I learned that a sick person's dysfunction is absolutely not my fault. I learned to handle myself under extreme pressure. And most importantly, i learned to master and control my emotions. You wouldn't believe my poker face in a bad situation! 

My mother's craziness made me the strong, stable, resourceful woman i am today, and my own children reap the benefits of that.


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## that.girl (Aug 27, 2014)

alphaomega said:


> There's nothing more enjoyable than making the neighbors give us strange looks as I pretend to be an evil Jedi in my front yard, chasing my kids around with one of those glwing light sabers, after they dress up in thier puppy and frog costumes, and I was sent by the evil Ice King to destroy all pets in the world! And they use thier plastic hand grenade endowed with special sleeping powers given to them by the magical dog Jake, to conquer all the evil pet destroyers in the universe once and for all.


Ice King and Jake, I love it! 

My four year old likes to pretend that i am Marceline, she is Bubblegum Princess, and her baby sister is BMO.

She'll jump up and yell "What time is it? It's Adventure Time!"

:rofl:


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## HeartbrokenW (Sep 26, 2012)

Nope, no geese. But I swore things would be different for my kids. I did my best to give them everything I didn't have. They have a better life, but they don't appreciate things the way we did growing up. They take things for granted. They have no idea knowing what's its like to go without.


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## JustTired (Jan 22, 2012)

Growing up with a set of parents like mine....one thing I did learn is how NOT to parent like them.

I had a mother who was physically abusive, mentally/emotionally abusive, & verbally abusive. My father was emotionally abusive & emotionally unavailable. The most f*cked up thing about it is that out of all of my siblings, I got the brunt of it all. My brother was my mom's favorite....he never got any of the abuse that my sister & I endured.

I've been hit with broom sticks, fists, slaps, extension cords, had freezing cold water thrown on me. I've had way too many busted lips & bloody noses to count. I never felt safe with my parents, the only time I ever felt safe was when we were living with my grandmother in Puerto Rico. Those were the best elementary school years of my life. My grandmother was my savior....she is a saint in my eyes...RIP.

Fast forward to today, my parents make much better grandparents than they did as actual parents. Now they are more mindful of children's self esteem, self worth, & overall emotional well being. I am glad that they now see the error in their ways....it took me & my sister years of therapy to at least accept & move on from our past.


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## JustTired (Jan 22, 2012)

alphaomega said:


> Fk. Re reading that...
> 
> That's pretty depressing and dark.
> 
> Sorry TAMmers.


I'm not going to lie, I was a bit triggered by your post. Only because it reminded me of my childhood in some ways.

Like you, my sister & I are best friends. We get each other & understand each other's pain like no other.

I made a separate post about my childhood, hopefully you won't get triggered. (((hugs))) You've come a long way & are a much better person.


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## DoF (Mar 27, 2014)

Discipline - my father/mother....grandfather and even teachers would beat my ass when I needed it. Never abuse, always discipline.....and I appreciate each and every time they did it. I needed it!!! Sure I hated it at the time......but now I appreciate it.

Work ethic/sense of responsibility - at the age of 13 I was working and paying rent. Boy did I hate that and some. Now, I think it was the greatest thing for me. It injected sense of responsibility in life, work ethic AND contributing to family. Without this (and due to lack of father figure in my life) I would've been a complete mess.

Lack of involvement/time spent - my parents were always working, heck I was commuting (2 buses+) to school in a city by myself at 8 years old. They didnt' really spend much quality time with us, they were there, but just not very involved (did't really take us out to play sport on regular basis......we were free range kids). Go out and do whatever type. I still hate this BUT it has made me a MUCH better parent. Unfortunately I also realize that my children might be just like my parents and not be involved.....due to OVERWHELMING involvement from my wife and I. Cycle of life I guess.


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## that.girl (Aug 27, 2014)

Time for a lighter example... 

When i was a kid, my dad wouldn't answer my questions. To be fair, i was a bright kid and had a lot of questions.

How do you spell Mississippi? 
What's a quark? 
Where is Shanghai? 

The answer was always the same - "Look it up."
It annoyed the piss out of me. I thought he was too lazy to answer me. He didn't explain himself until I was older. He knew that i wanted to know everything, and it wasn't possible. So he wanted me to know how and where to find the answers for myself. 

Now I'm all grown up, and working in a very technical field where i can't just know everything. But i know where my resources are and how to use them. I will find my answer, quickly and efficiently. I can choose my search keywords well to find what i need, and i can also burn hours jumping from one Wikipedia page to the next to satisfy my never-ending curiosity. 

My father knew that someday my questions would be too hard for him to answer, so he taught me to answer them myself. I hated his method as a child, but as an adult i am SO GRATEFUL for it!


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

One event today that still triggers me if I am in a counseling session with more than one person is this...

When I was four I heard my name yelled from the other room. I walk in to find my favorite night gown with black ink marks all over it. I didn't know how they got there and was heartbroken to see my "princess gown" destroyed. But I walked into a room of my Step Dad, my Mother and my brother all looking at me like I did it. My Step Dad started demanding I tell the truth through intense verbal abuse and when I maintained my truth he beat me with a belt on bare buttocks with me screaming each time, then the verbal abuse, I kept my truth, then beat again, then verbal abuse, then truth, then beating, then verbal abuse, then truth and beating, over and over until I was beaten into confessing something I didn't do. I don't know how long it lasted past being walked into a separate room to be beaten then walked back into the room with everyone else at least five times, but I had big bruises on me for a long time. 

Today.... truth is very important to me and when I know I'm telling it, I fight anyone who tells me different. I have felt ganged up on in counseling sessions before and was triggered back to this event, so I no longer have them without an advocate in the room with me. I remember that event like it was yesterday.

I also remember a babydoll of mine being decapitated in front of me for getting a small amount of fingernail polish on a TV tray.

Too many stories to share, but I learned how NOT to parent, how choosing better is possible, how accuracy and truth are imperative as well as empathy. I am also very strong, independent and because I was trained to have NO boundaries, I also don't know a stranger and connect very easily with people who need help. I am also articulate in ways that came from the abuse that serves others today.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

alphaomega said:


> I have the utmost respect for you, friend.
> 
> Do you have children, Conan? I find the time spent immersed in the wonders of my children's imagination, and the fact that they find it in thier hearts to share that imagination with me on a daily basis (even force me to on my less energetic days), more than makes up for some of the less idealistic moments of my youth.
> 
> ...


Two boys. All grown now. Thank you. Not able to really talk about it. You opened something though.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## lucy999 (Sep 28, 2014)

ConanHub said:


> I would have appreciated more softness in my soul but the odyssey called my childhood made me tough in an almost unreal fashion. I have never even come close to losing a fight. Not even against multiple opponents. Past my 14th year, I had absolutely no fear of anyone and have never been afraid of people since.
> 
> I regret the thing I had to become to survive. I miss my childhood almost daily but there are those over the years who I've saved from one threat or another, far from the least of these are six souls who would not be today without my hard soul. My little sister and her five children. I love you sister. I am sorry I can't say that to you the way I want to. I am sorry our childhood love for each other was devastated by what was done to us. I think you're beautiful and so are your children. I will never regret saving you, even though it cost me something, something soft and human was the payment I gave that day.
> 
> ...


This is one of the most emotional, heartwrenching, yet beautiful posts I've seen here to date. Thank you for sharing, CH.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

lucy999 said:


> This is one of the most emotional, heartwrenching, yet beautiful posts I've seen here to date. Thank you for sharing, CH.


Thank you for appreciating it. I couldn't stop crying while writing it and I can't stop crying now.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## DoF (Mar 27, 2014)

JustTired said:


> Growing up with a set of parents like mine....one thing I did learn is how NOT to parent like them.
> 
> I had a mother who was physically abusive, mentally/emotionally abusive, & verbally abusive. My father was emotionally abusive & emotionally unavailable. The most f*cked up thing about it is that out of all of my siblings, I got the brunt of it all. My brother was my mom's favorite....he never got any of the abuse that my sister & I endured.
> 
> ...


Sorry to hear, my wife dealt with similar things as you.

One of our struggles, I believe in discipline but she has trouble seeing the difference between discipline and abuse.

It took me YEARS AND YEARS to get her to the point of knowing what the difference is. But regardless, her childhood memories creep up regardless and I have to be sensitive of that.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

ConanHub said:


> Thank you for appreciating it. I couldn't stop crying while writing it and I can't stop crying now.
> _Posted via Mobile Device_


Perhaps it's time to start the journey of enlightenment and healing, friend.


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## SamuraiJack (May 30, 2014)

Hehehehehe.

My father is a good man and realized that I wasn’t able to be physically controlled but still managed to school me.
One night when I was in my senior high years. John and I went out and got pretty damn drunk.
We got dropped off at the house and Dad didn’t say a word except to ask if John was sleeping over.
It was summertime and it was hay season.
7:00AM Dad was calling for me AND John to get dressed for work.
…and work was what was on the agenda.

12 hours of grueling labor in the hottest sun ever. We cut in the morning and stacked in the afternoon. The hay mow was about 120 degrees and we made hay loose so there was no mercy. But John and I kept at it…and at it…sandwiches for lunch…still nauseous…and at it.

8:30 PM we had filled the entire quota for two horses for a winter.
Fed and watered horses, put them to bed.
Dad went into the house and emerged with three Pabst Blue Ribbons.
Icy cold hangover cures…sooooooo good.
We drank and dad simply said “If you can play hard, you can work hard. My Uncle Paul did this for me when I was your age and I never forgot it. ALWAYS work through a hangover cause you brought it on yourself.”

John and I were in bed by 9:00.
We went out the next night.

Next morning was wood cutting…except we gladly joined in and worked our butts off.
Love my Dad.


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## AVR1962 (May 30, 2012)

Interesting question! My parents were teenagers (15 & 16) when they married, I was born 9 months later. My mom got pg 3 months after I was born. I spent my time with my mom's parents and was close to my dad. My mom became an alcoholic, very angry, silent person. My dad was the person who spent time with us girls talking, addressing issues, playing games, teaching us how to clean and cook. My mom was rather absent in her role. Dad and Gma filled that role.

Once the boys started showing interests in me dad gave me the lock-down. I was slapped, I was called a *****. My dad didn't want me wearing anything revealing and he did not like me wearing make-up, all in an attempt to keep me innocent I am sure but it was very hurtful.

I was born in '62 so the belt was normal means of punishment in our house but I tell you I would much rather have the belt than all the mean words that would come out of either of my parents' mouths.

What I can say is that I learned that I did not want to be like either of them. I kept the communication part but the rest I discarded.

I spent 3 years in counseling learning about the dynamics of my family and what I feel was the most damaging of all was that I was the scapegoat of the family. Because of that I have gone the extra mile for my children. I never wanted them to feel as I did growing up.


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## Green Eyes (Nov 20, 2014)

I feel so badly for all of you who had to endure such horrible treatment by your parents. I will say though, in reading your other posts you all seem like very thoughtful, kind human beings.

AO I'm glad you started this thread and think it's wonderful your bond with your sister is so strong. You've come a long way.


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## JustTired (Jan 22, 2012)

DoF said:


> Sorry to hear, my wife dealt with similar things as you.
> 
> *One of our struggles, I believe in discipline but she has trouble seeing the difference between discipline and abuse.*
> 
> It took me YEARS AND YEARS to get her to the point of knowing what the difference is. But regardless, her childhood memories creep up regardless and I have to be sensitive of that.


I can so relate to your wife on the above. I'm glad you are sensitive to that because it still haunts me now.


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## DoF (Mar 27, 2014)

JustTired said:


> I can so relate to your wife on the above. I'm glad you are sensitive to that because it still haunts me now.


One thing that has helped her is isolating herself from ex abusers (her father mostly) and of course recognizing the person as well.

He might have apologized for physical abuse due to drug addiction......but the truth is, he has made 0 effort in being a great father (and I have a feeling his addiction is still present, mostly due to his isolation).

His idea of being a father and grand father is dropping of a gift for birthday/Christmas. And emailing with my wife.

Guy lives 10 min away from us and I have not seen him in YEARS. Neither have my kids.

My wife finally realized that he is as worthless of a father as he has always been, nothing has changed. And the little email chit chat and gifts are just bunch of worthless BS.

Either the damage from addiction took it's toll or he is still addicted (I would say #2 due to nature of the drug/Coke).

He is also a dead beat with her brothers and other family members......amongst other things.

Little did she know or realize his CURRENT actions (or lack of actions) are as hurtful/if not more hurtful than the past.


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## JustTired (Jan 22, 2012)

DoF said:


> One thing that has helped her is isolating herself from ex abusers (her father mostly) and of course recognizing the person as well.
> 
> He might have apologized for physical abuse due to drug addiction......but the truth is, he has made 0 effort in being a great father (and I have a feeling his addiction is still present, mostly due to his isolation).
> 
> ...


Ugh, yeah, I get it. My mother still tries to verbally abuse me to this day. Always hurling jabd my way....what's crazy is that my mother always insults my sister & I together, nevermind that my sister is not in the vicinity or vice versa. I leave when she starts her BS or I hang the phone up. I refuse to listen to my mother's garbage.

BUT, my mother is a wonderful grandmother & that is why I continue to see her verbally abusive ass. 

My father, on the other hand, has been a wonderful support system for me since the birth of my daughter. I can talk to him & my step mom about anything & they show love & support. So my father has done a complete 180, while my mother hurls insults while hiding behind a bible (because now she is such a christian).


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

JT your story and mine are very similar.


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## toonaive (Dec 13, 2012)

SamuraiJack said:


> Hehehehehe.
> 
> My father is a good man and realized that I wasn’t able to be physically controlled but still managed to school me.
> One night when I was in my senior high years. John and I went out and got pretty damn drunk.
> ...


Ha! my father did the same thing to me. First, and last time I ever showed up home drunk. Lesson learned.


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## arbitrator (Feb 13, 2012)

*My Mom was really a saint of a lady ~ the only thing that she ever did wrong, IMHO, was that as a pre-adolescent, I was summarily made to go fishing with her in those SW Louisiana rice canals where she continuously fished from 9AM to 6PM and it bored me out of my gourd. But she literally loved it, as it was her pleasure in life! Too bad I couldn't really reciprocate!

Dad was a supervisor for a major oil company, was a borderline alcholic and became very emotionally abusive if he ever got several under his belt. When he wasn't drinking, he was the greatest guy to be around in the world and would literally give you the shirt right off of his back; but when he was tanked up, look out!

Being a firsthand witness to his drinking problems greatly steered me away from it. Even as a frat rat in college, I rarely ever drank, and got to basically be the frat's designated driver! I can only remember of only two incidents in my life that I ever drank to excess!

Shortly before Dad passed away, he was confined to a nursing home because at his very own insistence, he wanted to be there because he thought that he was too much of a burden for my mother to look after in their own home. He had borderline dementia, and was always in and out of it. I was sitting there passing time with him one sultry early June afternoon, when out of the blue, he teared up and said, "Son, I hope that you can forgive me for all of my drinking and the abuse I put you through. It eats at me, and I just wanted you to know!" 

"Dad," I said, "And I'm sorry for being the lousy son of yours, because if I had a boy of mine that was as lousy as me, I'd probably drink too!" He quickly interjected "You aren't lousy, Arb, and if I ever hear you talk that way about yourself, I'll use what little energy I have to whip your ass! I'm the lousy one, and I hope you can see fit to forgive me!" I got up, went over to his chair and hugged him telling him, "Tell you what, Dad! Let's just forgive each other!" He looked up with tears cascading down from those big blue eyes of his and just said, "Agreed!"

As we parted that afternoon, he told me that he probably would not get to ever see me again, and to take care of Mom. I told him that he was as crazy as a Bessie-Bug and that I'd see him next trip up. Two weeks later, we got that fateful call that his kidneys had shut down and that he was being sent over to the Hospital ER. That was the last time I ever saw him alive! But I truly felt that we had made peace with each other!

Right after having received word of him being rushed to the local hometown hospital, my brother and I made the nearly-4 hour trip up to his city to be there, and just as we hit the outskirts of town where the hospital was, a horrendous thunderstorm of unparalleled proportion hit, greatly to where it was literally raining sideways. At the risk of getting drenched in the parking lot to go into the hospital, my brother and I continued on to their home, some 10 minutes further up the road.

As we pulled into their country driveway, a neighbor lady, who had been there staying with my Mom, came outside with tears in her eyes, hugged us and told us that the Doctor had just hung up from calling to say that our Dad had expired only about 10 minutes prior.


No doubt during the course of that freak June thunderstorm, as we passed by that hospital!

Isn't it truly remarkable the way that God so clearly chooses to communicate with us!*


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## tulsy (Nov 30, 2012)

alphaomega said:


> Re: Things your parents did that you hated, but......in the end they made you stronger....


The list is long, as far as what they did...most of it I could probably excuse as they were young, maybe didn't have very good parental role models, etc. Still, as adults, they are responsible for their children, and they failed miserably.

I guess if I had to pick one thing they did, I would say that when I needed them the most, they abandoned me and actively aided people trying to destroy me. I haven't spoken to either of them in years, and neither has my older sister (my young brother and sister still have some contact with them...there is a decade between the pairs of us kids).

In the end, it really gives you a template for "how NOT to raise kids". In that respect, I guess it did help make me a stronger person and better parent, much closer to my kids. It also makes you appreciate the family and friends you do have; ones who treat you with love and support, especially when your world has gone to chit.

I often hear "blood is thicker than water" and "family first", however, my life didn't work out that way.


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## arbitrator (Feb 13, 2012)

tulsy said:


> The list is long, as far as what they did...most of it I could probably excuse as they were young, maybe didn't have very good parental role models, etc. Still, as adults, they are responsible for their children, and they failed miserably.
> 
> I guess if I had to pick one thing they did, I would say that when I needed them the most, they abandoned me and actively aided people trying to destroy me. I haven't spoken to either of them in years, and neither has my older sister (my young brother and sister still have some contact with them...there is a decade between the pairs of us kids).
> 
> ...


* So very sorry to hear that, Tulsy!*


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## heartsbeating (May 2, 2011)

There are some resilient and compassionate folks up in here!

Thanks for being here and offering your experience and help. I tip my hat to you.


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## TheCuriousWife (Jan 28, 2013)

I hated my childhood. I'm not sure it made me stronger, but it made me wiser. 

I am jealous of innocent people, with fond childhood memories.


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## skype (Sep 25, 2013)

Kudos to all of you who survived such horrific childhoods!

My story is much less traumatic. My father was the cheapest person I have ever known. He squeezed every nickel until it not only squeaked, it cried bloody murder. 

But as an adult I realized that I inherited his frugal (notice that my father was cheap, but I am frugal) gene, and my husband appreciates my ability to save money. But he does insist that I stop buying the cheapest, roughest TP in the grocery store. :rofl:


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## DoF (Mar 27, 2014)

JustTired said:


> Ugh, yeah, I get it. My mother still tries to verbally abuse me to this day. Always hurling jabd my way....what's crazy is that my mother always insults my sister & I together, nevermind that my sister is not in the vicinity or vice versa. I leave when she starts her BS or I hang the phone up. I refuse to listen to my mother's garbage.
> 
> BUT, my mother is a wonderful grandmother & that is why I continue to see her verbally abusive ass.
> 
> My father, on the other hand, has been a wonderful support system for me since the birth of my daughter. I can talk to him & my step mom about anything & they show love & support. So my father has done a complete 180, while my mother hurls insults while hiding behind a bible (because now she is such a christian).


That's tough, I wouldn't be able to deal with her.

I have very little care for people that justify their messed up actions with religion. Doesn't get much lower than that.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

alphaomega said:


> Perhaps it's time to start the journey of enlightenment and healing, friend.


Started. I have contacted my sister. We have been apart too long.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

ConanHub said:


> Started. I have contacted my sister. We have been apart too long.


Well done!

The journey to enlightenment begging with a single step.

Or was it...motorcycle ride.

Not sure. The latter sounds much more fun. I hate walking.


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## Ikaika (Apr 23, 2012)

The only thing I learned, I understand my father, he had a hard life - Great Depression child, oldest son of a alcoholic father, second generation to immigrants parents, WWII and Korean War vet. I have long since forgiven him and I have nothing more to add.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

alphaomega said:


> Well done!
> 
> The journey to enlightenment begging with a single step.
> 
> ...


Motorcycle. Without question. &#55357;&#56841;&#55357;&#56833;
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## SimplyAmorous (Nov 25, 2009)

Some of the profound lessons I had in childhood were...

*1. * Parents married too young (age 18...I popped out 10 months later)..Mother was naive, wasn't in love with my father.. she did things to please others when her heart as not into it..this is never lasting & hurts all involved.. Marriage ended after 9 yrs. .. I remember the fights in the living room... *Lesson in that *>> Follow your own heart, understand what you want in life, your hopes, your dreams, do not settle for less as it will come back to haunt you...and cause others great unhappiness. 



*2. *Watched my Mother self destruct 2 yrs after the divorce ...she had her own little house to rent (even planning to buy)...a good job , and she had ME...Life was going well !!!... she was Happy !

But then.. she got caught up with a number of unscrupulous men... it was more extreme than just a few bad choices here, one of the men, so we heard was getting paid to bring other men over (of course this is the one she wanted - she would tell me passion was her demise)... my Mother was beat up for trying to stop, raped by a neighbor when he got wind of these other men...some were married, I distinctly remember one, he really cared about her, would take us on fishing trips - I LIKED HIM!...but she didn't.....

I remember things going on in our little house that made sex very UGLY to me.. exposed to a little too much too early.

When my Father got wind of these things, he called her in a rage & took me off of her (could have saved me from being raped even- I was 10 yrs old)... she eventually had a nervous breakdown... *Lesson:* My mother destroyed her life over rotten choices with men.. it's one of the reasons I had a stick up my a$$ (can't blame it all on religion) to not allow any man to use me & throw me away- as one of my biggest fears was to turn out like my own mother.. sad thing to say .. it was *self preserving*..

I wanted a GOOD future damn it! She was NEVER the same after that, she never believed in love again, she ran off with an alcoholic...just disheartening in every way.



*3. * Experienced the Evil Step Mother in my teens.. didn't feel wanted at home.. (I feel my Father always loved me, he was just busy doing his own thing)... Her intentions were probably OK.. but being a young girl with a Fcked up Mom- off in another state... going through puberty, trying to make my way -figuring out where I belonged.. she was no comfort to me.. she let me know if I screwed up in any way, I'd be thrown out on the streets.. I feared her wrath and disappointment.... 

She & my Mother were best friends on HIgh school (Crazy web there)... thinking about this, maybe she feared I would take after my mother ...bringing disgrace to my father, I don't know. 

But I walked a very straight line in that house.. I was a model teen, good grades, never drank, went to youth group with a friend.... They worked me hard, I had responsibilities at home, she worked full time... I would cook, I cleaned... I did the 3 acres of grass cutting... I would shut my mouth.. I was working at age 16, it was on me to buy my own car, find & pay for my own insurance.. It was like I lived there.. but was not a part of the family.. They pushed independence on me...I was to be on my own at age 18... 

*Lesson Learned:* never take things for granted.. You are owed nothing, you pull your weight ...you want something, you work for it.. there would be no "entitlement mentality" in me..



*4.* My dear Grandmother next door & a friends Mother were my greatest Female mentors.. from them I had some balance to what a decent family is supposed to look like.. Grandma had a beautiful love story, she would share with me on her front porch, her in her rocker, me on the swing...these heart to hearts shaped a part of who I am...... at my friends house, I felt a part of their larger family, many nights spend there.... which inspired something in me.. this is what I wanted for my future.... 

When I met my Husband at age 15... he seemed sent from above...how perfectly we FIT... what I had dancing in my head -what I wanted in love, a family of my own someday.. he was ALL IN.. and it all fell very nicely into place.. 

Looking back. I feel many of my trials leading to that point helped groom me to be open to *the good guy* who walked into my life...so it all had it's purpose. 



> *skype said*: My father was the cheapest person I have ever known. He squeezed every nickel until it not only squeaked, it cried bloody murder.
> 
> *But as an adult I realized that I inherited his frugal (notice that my father was cheap, but I am frugal) gene, and my husband appreciates my ability to save money.* But he does insist that I stop buying the cheapest, roughest TP in the grocery store


 This is the one thing my parents had in common.. the only thing I can think of...both very frugal. neither of them would get themselves in over their heads financially and always have something to fall back upon..

I am very much this way myself.. I got a double dose in the genes department .....I can't say it's all cheapness... because I would think nothing of blowing thousands on a family vacation, a thousand on an SLR.. even helping a friend -giving away a couple hundred as a gift... it's the idea we *must* always have something to fall back upon for a rainy day.... I like to call it a "torrential downpour"...


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## Runs like Dog (Feb 25, 2011)

My older sister is an only child. It depends on what you mean by stronger. Not sentimental? Calling their bluff?


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

Great compilation SA.&#55357;&#56842;
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## SimplyAmorous (Nov 25, 2009)

ConanHub said:


> Great compilation SA.��
> _Posted via Mobile Device_





ConanHub said:


> *I regret the thing I had to become to survive. I miss my childhood almost daily but there are those over the years who I've saved from one threat or another, far from the least of these are six souls who would not be today without my hard soul. My little sister and her five children. *


I meant to hone in on your story ConanHub.....That was a very moving post...your sacrifice for your sister ... to a life that might have been very different ...it wasn't supposed to play down LIKE THAT....it had it's price.....my mind was overworking what all that meant...your sister & her children inevitably KNOW.. or maybe she will someday share with them. 

You know... hearing the toughest among us, those with no fear.... where THEY came from.. and the why's behind it all..then hearing the softness that is still there for others.. .how can we not be moved by that ! I love when you get "deep" on TAM !! Just saying


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Thank you for sharing all of that SA and I agree about Conan... 

One of the toughest moments was when I heard my own brother say "I should have spoke up when I "knew things" while he watched me get battered.

So to hear a brother take the opposite honorable route gets huge respect from me.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

Thanks guys.&#55357;&#56842; It has surprised me, how much some posters have helped me when I wasn't looking. I have been talking to my sister on Facebook all day. I thought she hated me and I didn't know why but it was my own hardness getting in the way. I think she really loves me and looking back, I think she always has.&#55357;&#56842;
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Bravo!!!!


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## SpinDaddy (Nov 12, 2012)

Blossom Leigh said:


> . . . . When I was four I heard my name yelled from the other room. I walk in to find my favorite night gown with black ink marks all over it. I didn't know how they got there and was heartbroken to see my "princess gown" destroyed. But I walked into a room of my Step Dad, my Mother and my brother all looking at me like I did it. My Step Dad started demanding I tell the truth through intense verbal abuse and when I maintained my truth he beat me with a belt on bare buttocks with me screaming each time, then the verbal abuse, I kept my truth, then beat again, then verbal abuse, then truth, then beating, then verbal abuse, then truth and beating, over and over until I was beaten into confessing something I didn't do. . . .


Wow Blossom, I had an almost exact experience with a model of the Battleship Arizona. 

Someone, my Brother to be sure, had unwrapped and attempted to assemble this model which was in my Father’s workshop. It wasn’t harmed in any way; he’d only removed the shrink wrap and removed the parts from the plastic molds. 

I was wrongly accused of doing so, however I never confessed and the ritual, “Bridge over the River Quai” interrogations, beatings and being locked in a closet went on for several months. Mind you, my Mother was equally a participant to this and, I’m sure, fully aware of whom the culprit was – to her death; my Brother was “golden” and incapable of any wrong. 

I’ll dispense with how those memories, and many others affected me as a person but I will say I’ve endeavored to be a better man. I appreciate that where I’ve come from and where my Father came from are different worlds and you deal with the hand you’re given. I don’t begrudge my parents but at the same time I’ve never aspired to emulate them.

Fast-forward 45 years, Mother abruptly passed away. Father needing to move into an “assisted living” scenario was incapable to leave the homestead (i.e., get rid of all his junk and crap). Being the only child with the means and wherewithal to do so, I went back to the ranch with a U-Haul, packed away all his s hit, assured him we’d put it to good use and allowed him the “emotional break-away” to move into a “home”.

Most of the crap (and I do mean it cost me a week of vacation and 3+ grand to move stuff that I had to pay to get rid of) I hauled back to Texas (where my posse lives). We donated what we could to charity or otherwise paid to get rid of the s hit.

My children however found treasures upon treasures that they just had to keep. One of those treasures is that damn Battleship Arizona. Still in its opened but intact box, it’s sitting in a bookcase in my study. My son, about the same age as I was when the incident first started, continually begs me to assemble it.

One of these days, and maybe after reading this thread, it’ll be sooner than later; we will do that and I will fully put that chapter to bed. It pains me greatly just to look at that damn thing. But the past is to learn from not to live in. I am not my Father. Nobody ever dropped me from a Huey into a rice paddy with nothing but a carbine and my wits to survive. My children are not me. They have never been hit, manipulated or treated . . . . inhumanely. 

I don’t begrudge my upbringing but I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. I only hope that when my time comes that my U-Haul is neither a burden nor an emotional scar.

Go in peace my friend.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Thank you for sharing <3


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## Deep Down (Jun 21, 2014)

that.girl said:


> Time for a lighter example...
> 
> When i was a kid, my dad wouldn't answer my questions. To be fair, i was a bright kid and had a lot of questions.
> 
> ...


You're not along that.girl, my Dad did that too! both my parents. Look it up, all the time.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

Spin and Blossom, amazing to come through as intact as you both are. I had a hard time figuring out that my kids didn't need to worry about the things I had to. I knew of dangers they couldn't fathom. It was like trying to raise good men when I didn't even know what being human meant.

How did you learn to raise your children?
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

#1 was Christ in my heart starting at age nine.


#2 in 2005 God brought two very special horses into my life who were abused and in helping them recover I ended up studying Parelli Natural Horsemanship which gave me a good model of relational dynamics to draw from and adopt as my own instead of how I was raised.

#3 Healthy mentors through the years

All wrapped in the Grace of God for sure...


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

What saddens me is that we hope our childhoods are unique, that WE were the ones raised in dysfunction and violence.

But the truth it seems is that it happens way too much in the world.

I'm not trying to be naive. The world can suck. I know that. But, just like wishing for world peace, it would be nice if no kids had to deal with this crap.

(I don't trust world peace, either. Honestly, if I had the biggest stick in the world...all would bow to the Alpha and the Omega! . )


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

Actually, my dictatorship would most likely mimic a MAD TV skit I once saw.

Gimme your drugs or I'll blow your freakin heads off. Gimme your guns or I'll blow your freaking heads off. North Korea Kim and I would go hang out at at strip bar. Get drunk. Fight each other, then laugh over it while shooting tequilia.


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## Angelou (Oct 21, 2014)

alphaomega said:


> What saddens me is that we hope our childhoods are unique, that WE were the ones raised in dysfunction and violence.


Learning to be stable while overcoming a mostly unstable upbringing.


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## Runs like Dog (Feb 25, 2011)

Angelou said:


> Learning to be stable while overcoming a mostly unstable upbringing.



Lots of people don't grow up to be serial rapists no matter what their circumstances. The odds might be slightly more against them but on the whole most victims of abuse don't turn into monsters. Psychopathology is a disease, an anomaly.


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

Oh.  What a sad and powerful thread. All who have contributed have my respect and admiration; so many strong, resilient souls here. I’m not one of them, but I can certainly relate to this topic. This will probably be very long (and maudlin) and for that I apologize. If it’s too much information or just too much, period, I will remove it if need be.

Before I open my locked and buried Pandora’s box of bad memories, I would preface what I’m about to write with the simple truth that I dearly love and revere my parents and remain their loyal, devoted daughter to this day. No matter what happened, they are my blood and I am theirs; that means something (everything) to me. When I smile, it’s my father’s mouth with the down-turned corners (even in mirth, we frown!) that I see and his slight dimples etch my face, and when I make sharp observations, it’s my mother’s wit and intellect I’m using. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m proud of who they were and I’m honored to call them mine. So I would not want anyone to say anything disparaging about them. 

They both had difficult upbringings and survived pretty desperate poverty growing up in migrant labor camps (sometimes living in tents or converted animal shacks) with very few possessions, even basic necessities like beds, warm clothing, and shoes were scarce and treated as luxuries. Anytime I’ve wanted to whine about my past, I think about theirs and am humbled and ashamed at my weakness. My dad never complained about his childhood, despite having a lot of responsibility thrust on him at a young age; as the eldest he had to look after his younger siblings, work in the fields, help at home, and attend school as he could. He grew into a stern, hardworking man who joined the Army at 18, fought for his country in war, and after many years of service, went to college where he met my mother. She had a worse upbringing being the youngest girl of 8, beloved by her father, but despised by her psychotic mother. She endured endless brutal beatings and was badly burned when my grandmother poured boiling water on her as a child, I think, in an attempt to permanently disfigure her. She healed from that physically but never did recover mentally from all that she suffered. She grew into a beautiful, but badly damaged, cruel woman.

I write all of this, I suppose, to explain (excuse?) how they became such horrible husband and wife to one another, but also to show what incredible individuals they were and how I could admire and cherish them so dearly. Okay, here goes. God this is going to hurt a little…

Growing up I witnessed a lot of violence between them. They fought savagely; my father had a high stress dangerous job and a drinking problem, my mom had a vicious tongue and sadistic streak ten miles wide. He hit her many times but one gruesome incident still haunts me to this day…she was trying to run to her car to escape but he caught her and hit her until she collapsed to the ground; when she tried to crawl away, he kicked her, then dragged her up the stone steps in front of my brother and me, only to beat her more when we all got inside. He also beat the living hell out of my older brother (usually for some horrible abuse my brother had heaped upon me), and while my dad only struck me a total of 3 times…I was a tenderhearted child and he was a large angry man…I loved him immensely but also feared him intensely. I make no excuses for what he did; it was wrong and he came to realize that.

Even now it’s difficult for me to reconcile the image of the father I loved, the one who eventually saved me, with the brutal man with a hair-trigger temper given to violence. In no way do I condone what he did, but it was not done without provocation; my mom is one of the most confrontational, caustically abusive people I have ever met. She has no qualms saying the most vile, cruel, unrepentantly evil things with a smile on her face. She didn’t deserve what he did to her but having been on the receiving end of a lot of her vitriol, I can easily understand how he reacted with rage. And my father did change. When I was ten, my mother had locked us in her bedroom to keep us away from him…he kicked in the door, knocked her down on the bed and drew back his fist to punch her. Without thinking I threw myself on top of her, put my hands up, and begged him not to hit her. He looked like he would kill us both, but then seemed to “wake up” and just stood there frozen above us; he’d never liked hitting me because I was always so sensitive and meek. He backed away and left without saying a word. He never hit her again after that day. I don’t know what made him stop, but he changed a lot after that.

Again, I know all of this paints a very ugly portrait of my parents, but please do not judge them too harshly. They both had suffered a great deal before they entered into unholy matrimony. I have forgiven them and try not to hold on to the poison of the past where they are concerned and focus instead on the sweetness they also shared. 

The one I can’t forgive in all of this is my brother. The worst abuse I suffered came at his hands; he is a sociopath (I do not use the term lightly and know exactly what it means) and is the source of most of my suffering. Unfortunately, he was my mother’s pride and joy, her ne’er do wrong (in her blind eyes), and so I was left alone with him a lot as my dad didn’t live with us (it’s a long story but he left my mom before I was born and just came around often enough to emotionally scar us) and my mom worked long hours…so we were “latchkey kids” from a very young age and it was like Lord of the Flies with me as Piggy. He beat me black and blue (even knocking me unconscious), tried to choke, drown, and poison me, has threatened to kill me so many times I’ve lost count, put my life and limbs in danger multiple times which resulted in many trips to the hospital, broken bones, lacerations to my face (still have some faint scars) and legs, some of my fingers are crooked from getting slammed repeatedly in car doors, and he tortured and abused my animals (including beheading my kittens)…which in many ways was the most difficult thing for me to bear. That’s the condensed list; he also verbally, emotionally, and sexually abused me, but that’s all I’m comfortable saying about that. He was always psychotic but when he began doing speed at 12, freebasing coke at 17, and then injecting meth at 19…well, things got really, really scary. He’s been incarcerated repeatedly and I’ve had nothing to do with him for many years, but the damage was done. 

Anyway, the tarnished silver lining in all of this is that the abuse motivated me like nothing else to study and do well in school so that one day I might escape to college. I spent many hours locked in my room, bent over books, doing homework and studying, and when I would finish with that I would read, draw and paint endlessly. And my brother served as a living PSA against drug use for me. So in a weird way… my mother and brother motivated me to be a "good girl" and excel. And I did. I was in honors classes and graduated with a near 4.0 (damn you PE and my lack of athletic ability and coordination!), got into, made Dean’s List, and graduated from a top university (go bears!), and even though I heard near daily that I was stupid, worthless, ugly, etc, etc, etc, and was called every nasty name in the book before I was even out of single digits… I have made a life for myself far beyond what my mother and brother predicted and wanted for me. I survived. And though I’m crippled with self-doubt and a deep-seated self-hatred, the few things I do value about myself were developed due to my sad, lonely childhood…my love of books, reading, and art, my love and compassion for animals, my need to help those most vulnerable. I still have my tenderhearted sensibilities. They didn’t break me. 

And my father did make up for his faults and failures. He helped me more than anyone in my life. He got me out of my mom’s house at 17 so I could attend college, supported me emotionally and financially throughout university and beyond, until I could stand on my own two feet, and he was my greatest champion, defender, and admirer. Before he died of liver cancer 4 years ago, he made sure that I knew I was loved and that he believed me to be the greatest gift and blessing of his life, his “saving grace”. I am forever indebted to him and have only compassion and forgiveness for the flawed man he was and nothing but love and respect for the wonderful father he became. Even in all of the horror and tragedy of my life, there has also been so much love, beauty, and tenderness. I’m grateful.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

I am amazed at the bravery of children. Kudos to all of you. It's amazing at how young of age we find that strength to protect those we love. 

I would gladly still take ten lashes, or worse, for my sister. She has such a beautiful soul it should still be protected at all costs. It's like I need to protect that pure innocence. And her children turned out so well. I'm proud of her.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

Conan

I would both love and hate to meet you in the bar. Hopefully, it would be a good experience and we could share tequila. 

If it was on the other side of the spectrum, you'd have to kill me. No matter how much you'd beat me down, I'd be the stupid guy that just keeps getting back up coming. 

Most respect for you, friend. I hope your new journey with your sister is wonderful and healing.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Milhaven.. triggery for me. I see very similar recovery areas between us, self doubt being pervasive. Hugs....


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

WOW Curse! Your brother could have been the clone of one of my mother's men. Is he dead yet?

Were you able to have a successful relationship? Did you get married?
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## tonedef (Aug 7, 2014)

This thread makes me so sad  No child should ever suffer and feel unsafe in their own home. I look at my own children and want nothing but the best and I want to protect them the best I can. I admire y'alls strength and resilience. My H has some similarities in childhood but unfortunately I don't think he is as strong minded and tends to dwell on things he wish he could change. I just don't get the mentality it takes to want to hurt something so innocent.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

alphaomega said:


> Conan
> 
> I would both love and hate to meet you in the bar. Hopefully, it would be a good experience and we could share tequila.
> 
> ...


We would never fight. We would, maybe will, be friends. I would love to buy you a cold one and swap tales.

Going good with my sister. Taking it slow and cautious. She didn't make it out without scars. Trying to ship her whiskey for a present but that is apparently difficult. She lives in Hawaii. I'll figure it out. Can't wait to see her surprise!&#55357;&#56833;
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## TiggyBlue (Jul 29, 2012)

Not done by my dad intentionally but through his mental illness my dad did some things that were pretty damaging.
Although some events in my teens years did end up messing me up pretty bad for a long time I do think in the end they helped me to become a lot stronger and fearless than I would have been if they never happened.


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

Blossom Leigh said:


> Milhaven.. triggery for me. I see very similar recovery areas between us, self doubt being pervasive. Hugs....


Blossom, I’m sorry my post brought back bad memories for you and that you too are struggling with self-doubt. It’s hard. Writing all that out was really difficult and made me feel even more alone, aberrant, and, well, "tainted". If that makes any sense.

But your reaching out to me and offering a “virtual” hug, believe it or not, actually helped and means a lot to me. So…thank you for the kindness. Very much.


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

ConanHub said:


> WOW Curse! Your brother could have been the clone of one of my mother's men. Is he dead yet?


No, despite all odds he’s still alive. He’s had many close calls but so far pulls through. Sadly (sickly), I always end up feeling bad for him somehow in spite of it all (like when he was attacked by gang members in prison and had his teeth kicked in, or his many hospitalizations and incarcerations, or when he’s badly hurt from fights or drugged out self-inflicted injuries, not to mention the health problems etc.) Whenever I hear about these things (from my mom), I can’t help but remember the (few) times he was a good big brother to me… like when he "talked to" the bully who was making my life hell in elementary school and convinced him to leave me alone or how he stole biscuits for me because I was hungry even though we weren’t supposed to get them. You know? I remember these things and it just breaks my heart. 



ConanHub said:


> Were you able to have a successful relationship? Did you get married?


Uh, not as such. Yes, I did marry but probably never should have. I’ve learned my lesson, though. Love *_hates_* me… and, finally, the feeling is mutual.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

I understand. Your brother is not well and.it actually hurt my heart hearing the.misery he is experiencing.

I read on another thread that you are married and you verified it here. It doesn't sound good. Do you have children?
I am curious because I had to learn, ongoing, how to be human. 

It is a struggle to understand basic human interaction for me.
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

ConanHub said:


> I understand. Your brother is not well and.it actually hurt my heart hearing the.misery he is experiencing.
> 
> I read on another thread that you are married and you verified it here. It doesn't sound good. Do you have children?
> I am curious because I had to learn, ongoing, how to be human.
> ...


That's kind and compassionate of you. He is in misery; unfortunately he spreads it like a cancer to all who care for him.

No, no children. I'm unable to, or rather, I learned when I was younger that it would be very difficult for me to conceive. I mourned the loss long ago. Probably for the best, anyway. I love little ones (and they love me...I can't be _all_ bad!) and think I would have been a good mother, but with my history I would be afraid of unintentionally damaging them with my anxiety and depression. Anyway. Wasn't in the cards for me. 

It's a struggle for me too. Basic human interaction. I usually fail miserably at it and it's difficult for me to approximate even "semi-normal".


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

I started seriously studying people when I was 14. It is the only way I learned about interaction and am here on TAM still learning.

Is there love between your husband and yourself?
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

ConanHub said:


> Is there love between your husband and yourself?


Yes. A lot. That's what keeps me hanging on when I should just pull the damned plug already. I love him dearly. And he loves me....in a very platonic bff kind of way. It's fubar, I know, but truthfully as fvcked up as it is, it makes perfect sense to me that I would end up in a "marriage" like this. 

Anyway, friend, I've hashed it out here before and there is no "fixing" this. I already know what the "solution" is...I just can't bring myself to do it.


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## ConanHub (Aug 9, 2013)

I'll review your threads when I get to the hotel. Mobile is limited. Thank.you so much for sharing.

Be well!&#55357;&#56842;
_Posted via Mobile Device_


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

Everyone here, be well!

I wish I could help more directly, but being anonymous on the Internet makes it challenging.

Everyone's stories makes me thoughtful and empathetic.

I was lucky enough to find my path back to humanity, although my story isn't as tragic as some here. 

I wish you all well on your journey to healing.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Curse of Millhaven said:


> Blossom, I’m sorry my post brought back bad memories for you and that you too are struggling with self-doubt. It’s hard. Writing all that out was really difficult and made me feel even more alone, aberrant, and, well, "tainted". If that makes any sense.
> 
> But your reaching out to me and offering a “virtual” hug, believe it or not, actually helped and means a lot to me. So…thank you for the kindness. Very much.



You are so welcome.

I too was terrified that I wouldn't be a good mom. I didn't think I could have kids, but I divorced and remarried and found myself pregnant at 39. There were many times I sobbed to my H that I was scared I would be my Mom. I have had to be vigilant, but am deeply grateful that I am proving not to be her.

I too had an Aunt who showed me what unconditional love is. Very grateful for her.

Conan, I've known someone else like you and why he was that way. I know more of your story than you probably realize through knowing him. You have my deepest respect and support. I too have studied human interactions for a long long time searching for answers. So much so that my therapist feels I could teach on it well. It has become a passion of mine and has helped me tremendously. My young interactions were not normal and I too had to find a better model. I didn't find it til I was 33.


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## NextTimeAround (Dec 15, 2011)

Blossom Leigh said:


> One event today that still triggers me if I am in a counseling session with more than one person is this...
> 
> When I was four I heard my name yelled from the other room. I walk in to find my favorite night gown with black ink marks all over it. I didn't know how they got there and was heartbroken to see my "princess gown" destroyed. But I walked into a room of my Step Dad, my Mother and my brother all looking at me like I did it. My Step Dad started demanding I tell the truth through intense verbal abuse and when I maintained my truth he beat me with a belt on bare buttocks with me screaming each time, then the verbal abuse, I kept my truth, then beat again, then verbal abuse, then truth, then beating, then verbal abuse, then truth and beating, over and over until I was beaten into confessing something I didn't do. I don't know how long it lasted past being walked into a separate room to be beaten then walked back into the room with everyone else at least five times, but I had big bruises on me for a long time.
> 
> ...


Blossom, after contemplating this event many times in your life, do you have any idea who might have destroyed your night gown? Maybe your brother because of sibling rivalry? Maybe your stepfather because he wanted to set you up anyway?

Given how insignificant a nightgown is against the value and safety and security of a household, it seems very weird that your stepfather would put that much effort into punishing you. Including his inability to believe that you didn't do it.

The cost of child's nightgown.......BFD.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

NextTimeAround said:


> Blossom, after contemplating this event many times in your life, do you have any idea who might have destroyed your night gown? Maybe your brother because of sibling rivalry? Maybe your stepfather because he wanted to set you up anyway?
> 
> Given how insignificant a nightgown is against the value and safety and security of a household, it seems very weird that your stepfather would put that much effort into punishing you. Including his inability to believe that you didn't do it.
> 
> The cost of child's nightgown.......BFD.


I "think" they found out that he had put marker on his rain coat and put his rain coat in the dirty clothes and it was done that way, but I would have to ask him. It's been so long that part of this is fuzzy, I remember being numb when I heard that so today that piece of information feels like a dream. 

He thought I was lying. He was punishing me for lying. I hung onto my truth as long as I could until he broke me that day. Sometimes I hate that I gave in, yet I understand why I did.


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

Blossom Leigh said:


> You are so welcome.
> 
> I too was terrified that I wouldn't be a good mom. I didn't think I could have kids, but I divorced and remarried and found myself pregnant at 39. There were many times I sobbed to my H that I was scared I would be my Mom. I have had to be vigilant, but am deeply grateful that I am proving not to be her.
> 
> I too had an Aunt who showed me what unconditional love is. Very grateful for her.


Blossom, sorry this is a late reply, but I just wanted to thank you again for your kindness toward me. It really upset me sharing and reliving all of that (it's still bothering me, which is why I keep it buried and rarely let it see the light of day), but your relating to me and showing compassion meant so much.

And I'm sure you're an excellent mother and probably all the more so for what you endured and your resultant mindful vigilance. You're a strong, caring soul and your children can only benefit from that.

Coincidentally I also had an aunt (a great aunt) who showed me true unconditional love and nurtured me when I was a child. She died of leukemia when I was 7 and though she was in my life but briefly, her impact has lasted my lifetime and I thank God daily for her.

Anyway, thanks again. In all you do, I wish you and yours strength, health, and happiness.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Your kind words are deeply appreciated. 

I am so grateful for your great aunt in your life... My grandfather was very much like that for me. Even spoke about it this week in therapy. You are so welcome. It helps knowing we are not alone and that there are Angels along the way. Hoping the BEST for your heart. As time has gone on the "linger" gets shorter. Be encouraged....


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

My grandfather was a wonderful man. I couldn't get enough of visiting him. I used to want to visit him every day in the summers. he taught me so much.

After my grandmother decided to use my back to make kindling...I never went back. Ever. I just stopped going.

It's unfortunate...but I had zero feelings for him when he passed away from cancer...years before my grandmother. In hind sight...I think as a child I blamed him for letting what happened...happen. I just wanted nothing to do with either of them.

I think something happened with my grandmother and my brother, also. But he would never tell. At the funeral of my grandmother, we each had to kneel at the coffin...say a prayer. I knelt..but of course I didn't pray.

My brother didn't even kneel. He just stood there. The priest told him he was supposed to kneel and pray. My brother just looked at the priest and walked away.

Later that day..I asked him why he walked away. The only thing he said....and it was the last time he ever spoke about my grandmother...was..."I wasn't going to kneel and pray for that b(tch."

My brother was very protective of me, also. And I of him...taking the beatings for both my sister and he. Unfortunately...my brother and I are not close at all. He's messed up. Went AWOL years ago..Left his wife and kids because being a DAD was too much of a burden. .and I have no clue if he's still alive.


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## alphaomega (Nov 7, 2010)

I mentioned this once in a different thread...

Once my sister in law finalized her divorce in absentia...or whatever they call it when they couldnt find my brother...her grandfather passed away..

My bro always beotched to her about too many responsibilities. Paying for this and that. Doling out cash for kids lessons. That's why he disappeared. Wanted to spend his money on him, for once.

...anyways...at my sister in laws grandfathers will reading...apparently he bought a crap load of share blocks for each of his three grand kids. Back when they were each born. Decades ago. In some oil company.

As time went on..they just kept splitting and splitting.

My sis in law received 17 million and change from that inheritance. Similar situation to her own siblings.

My brother is stupid. And karma is a cruel lady.


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## Blossom Leigh (Mar 27, 2014)

Sorry A_O


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## Curse of Millhaven (Feb 16, 2013)

alphaomega said:


> My grandfather was a wonderful man. I couldn't get enough of visiting him. I used to want to visit him every day in the summers. he taught me so much.
> 
> After my grandmother decided to use my back to make kindling...I never went back. Ever. I just stopped going.
> 
> ...




I’m so sorry for what you suffered, alphaomega. And it breaks my heart to read how your grandmother’s sickness poisoned your relationship with your grandfather. That’s just awful but a natural consequence if someone stands by and allows abuse of innocence. I can understand your resentment towards him; he was an adult bystander and should have interceded on your behalf. You were an innocent child. But he allowed himself to morally disengage and that’s unforgivable. 

I’m always shocked and disheartened at "bystander effect" and diffusion of responsibility. So many adults (family, school teachers and faculty, clergy, etc.) were privy to what was happening to me… the evidence was obvious, but no one intervened beyond superficial inquiries. 

Well, one time while in a drunken stupor my favorite uncle attacked my brother for bloodying me yet again. But everyone just focused on getting my uncle off of my brother and then getting him to “sleep it off”, without acknowledging what had brought on the attack. My brother was great at manipulating situations to where he would “unjustly” become the “victim” due to me and then later make me pay for it. Anyway.

And I'm very sorry to read of the rift between you and your brother, especially given your previous closeness and protectiveness of one another. That's so sad.  

Like you, I know one day (after my mother passes) I won't know my brother's whereabouts or whether he is incarcerated, homeless, or if he is dead or alive. I already feel sick in my heart about that but know it is inevitable and I can do nothing about it. 

And even though this is a sad thread and difficult topic, there is also so much support, strength, and inspiration here. You've created something so lovely and positive (to me, at least) out of something painful and tragic. You have my thanks and admiration for that. Godspeed.


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## tripad (Apr 18, 2014)

my dad beat the crap out of us , 6 kids , for anything , depending on his mood . sticks , rubber hose , bloodied skin . till sticks broke . my brother recalled himself getting metal chain too . 

I think how we grow up with that depends on how each internalize these physical abuse . I turn out smart in school and a high achiever n striver . to me , doing well was a route to escape the beatings n a life like my father , poor and angry with life n kids . My siblings didn't turn out well , did badly in school and life , and always in trouble .

one thing common , we are all angry with dad for the abuse and with mum for not standing up for us . For me , I did well as an adult , n I learn to forgive them , but sometimes , I still have an occasional outburst that just happened and I feel guilty after that . I still do my duties and more as a daughter . I took them on paid holidays and shopping trips . When my father died , frankly , I regretted my occasional outbursts at him .

however , for my children , yes , I try to be my best . but I must say sometimes I feel that I fail too . I love them dearly but I am a strict mum . I do not abuse them , but I m so worried that I will be like my dad too , I analysed every word n action , especially when I spank them ( not heavy ) .


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