As a recovering alcoholic, I call bullshit on that. You’re right, it’s not a free pass or a reason to just throw a blanket of forgiveness over the whole thing.
You know what might help all of you? The Aluminum Baseball Bat of Therapeutic Goodness[sup]TM[/sup]. Makes a nice pinging sound against the skull. And some of your parents seriously need it.
Tears are flowing like little streams over my cheeks. I cannot imagine going through what you all have had to endure.
I was never physically abused or neglected, but my mother and grandmother managed to weasel their way into my head and diminish my self-esteem starting at an early age. A bit of history:
My dad was an abusive alcoholic (seems to be a pattern in these posts) who would beat my mom and my brother, who is ten years my senior. I was just 6 when the parents were divorced, but I remember begging Mom to come sleep with me in my twin size bed before they split. I can remember more than one instance when he came to my bedroom and beat Mom, or pound her head against the wall. Mom, brother and I would often flee the house in the middle of the night to stay with my grandparents. During this time, I started sneaking food, desperately searching for some kind of comfort. Consequently, I gained a lot of weight and kept on gaining throughout my life. I would forever be the “fat girl” in school.
My insecurities were compounded by Mom’s “Wild and Crazy Dating” days. She’d drop me off at 7 a.m. at my aunt’s house (more on that in a sec) and I wouldn’t see her again till sometimes midnight when she picked me up at Grandma’s. If she picked me up at all. On a school night. A lot of the time, I felt like I was being shipped from one “home” to another because she didn’t want me around. Now, I don’t begrudge any single parent some alone time. If I had actually felt anything but contempt from my mother, I’m sure my memories of her date nights wouldn’t be negative. Also, not knowing when or if she was coming to get me made a bad impression.
After they divorced, I saw Dad every other weekend, and one day during the week. We had a great relationship and I was truly a Daddy’s girl. My relationship with Mom, on the other hand was not good. She had/ has a knack for talking down to people, belittling them. She would tell me I was fat, ugly and lazy, that I would never get a boyfriend when I got older, etc. At one point when I was oh, 8 or 9 she screamed, “I’m embarrassed to be seen with you!!!” I finally started telling her to fuck herself when I was about 16. Made no difference. Well, from that point on, I was fat, ugly, lazy AND disrespectful.
From their divorce to the time I was about 14, my grandmother would babysit my cousin and myself before & after school and during summer break. Grandma was the Supreme Guilt Tripper, who’s agenda was A) break my will B) make me hate my father. She was always on my ass about how hard I was making Mom’s life and how awful I should feel because I was such a burden. Sometimes, I’d pretend to go upstairs to the bathroom so I could wake up my then 2 year old cousin so Grandma’s attention would be taken off me. (oh boy did I get it when she caught me one day) If I said/did anything that she didn’t like, she’d call me “Mike” (my dad’s name). And boy did she love to tell me what a horrible man my father was. One day she informed me that Dad wanted Mom to have an abortion when she was pregnant with me. Keep in mind, I was still in elementary school. I took this constant guilt and abuse for years, everyday staring into my cereal bowl before school with tears rolling down my face. There were many days that I got onto the school bus crying, and my teacher would escort me to the counselor’s office when I arrived at school. I got lucky when I started high school… Mom trusted me enough to be on my own at home in the afternoon. I also was treated cooly by my aunt, who I’m sure had heard from both Mom and Grandma what a horrid child I was.
I started dating in my sophomore year, and my mom would often say nasty things like: “I’m not paying for your mistakes…” Meaning: "Don’t get knocked up like I did when I was 17. HAH! Joke’s on you, bitch! I’m almost 30 and have managed to A) not get pregnant in high school, and B) get married before even planning on having kids. Yeah, I used to throw that nugget in her face when she got ugly with me.
Ugh. I can’t write any more. This is making me sick. To quickly draw this to a close, I’ll say that I’m still horribly affected by all this. I honestly have very few memories of my childhood, other than the ones I’ve just shared. I have next to no self-esteem, severe depression and I’m way fat. Even though I want to have a baby, I’m petrified of having children because I feel that if I don’t work through my issues now, I’ll contaminate my offspring. I don’t want to become my mother. I still harbor a lot of anger for her and my grandmother. I cried like a baby when Grandma died, but I think it was because I never had a chance to tell her how much she fucked me up when I was a kid. I don’t have a close relationship with my mother, although it’s improved greatly since I got out on my own. THANK GOD FOR CALLER ID. When my brother got busted for Manufacturing of Methamphetamines (he turned to drugs, I turned to food), my two neices and nephew moved in with mom. For the entire time they lived there, she did them the same way she did me. I literally gotten in her face when she called my youngest neice stupid and retarded. I told her that if she is ever ugly with my kids, I’ll kill her.
Last Mother’s Day, when I bought a card for Mom, the girl at the checkout commented on what a nice one I had picked out. I told her that it was too bad I couldn’t find a card that said, “Fuck off and stay out of my life.”
Me too, and I don’t cry easily! This is the saddest thing I’ve read in a long time.
I’m sad because you guys were deprived of a decent childhood.
I’m happy you’re now out of the reach of those who hurt you.
I’m sad because there are millions of children, today, who go through pretty much the same thing.
I’m happy that most don’t.
Im happy, but feeling slightly guildy about it, that I had an OK childhood. For although my father was distant and my mother demanding, they weren’t abusive.
Let’s do the best we can for our kids.
Oh Wow!!
I wanna know who the detective agency is that your parents hire to track you down when you move without a forwarding address. I believe a tro can be made more-or-less permanent. Consult the local prosecuters office, it’s hard to believe they haven’t broken several antistalking laws.
:eek: 