Well, I did not mean that.
I was trying to determine if they had any outlet for comfort.
Not that it was their responsibility for obtaining it, just hoping it was there.
Just glad to hear that then.
Whew. I’m so sorry the adults in your life let you down. I’m appalled by the teacher too.
I’m glad you made it out. I’m glad you’re able to talk about it.
Ugh…nobody knows how to push your buttons and minimize your legitimate complaints like a sibling, especially when it means diverting attention to them.
It should go without saying that “hot showers and clean laundry” should be the default expectation instead of a reward for academic achievement, and even if you were getting this bare minimum of household care, the emotional neglect and turmoil of being in the midst of a passive-aggressive war of attrition between two parents who couldn’t look past their own anger with each other to see to your needs—physical, emotional, and otherwise—is itself a real trauma and not just something to “get over yourself” about.
I’m not going to go into my own experience in depth but I was the intermediary between parents who would not talk to each other outside of a courtroom, and thus the brunt of anger and recrimination whenever I was the bearer of bad news that was not of my making, as well as abject neglect when each of them moved on to new relationships where I was an unwanted appendage to be set aside or left at home alone without any concern or even a way to communicate if something came up, and it just sucks to be that unwanted by the people who are supposed to be your primary caregivers and inspiration. It just fucking sucks, and the knowledge that it is in no way your fault doesn’t make all of the hurt and fear and confusion and feeling worthless go away. It takes a lot of time and a close circle of much better people who will both care for you and call you out when you start to enact all of the things that you learned from your experience.
You deserved better. I hope you are getting that now.
Stranger
Beck, you know how sometimes people talk about how their family had a perfect, smiling facade, group photos and so forth, and no one knew the darkness inside? What’s worse is when you don’t even have the facade. My parents went dark, socially, which I didn’t realize then is a classic sign of dysfunction: cut off any support system.
At school, one person I knew I couldn’t talk to was the school counselor, because once when there was a bullying incident that a teacher reported, he called me in and said, “Well, let’s talk about what you’re doing wrong.” In what he probably meant to be a friendly way, but that put paid to any chance of my confiding in him. But as far as Mrs B, it was temporarily enough just to hear a pleasant tone from an adult. And again, I didn’t go into anywhere near as much detail with her as I have here.
And it’s not just a matter of resources. There have been a few times I told people IRL about this. Once in college, to two different girls, and that was when I first found out that one of them had been born, and raised for a few years, on a commune. Or as she put it, “in a freakin’ teepee”. She was aghast to hear this, because the commune people had been diligent about being clean. First, to avoid disease, and second, because when they had to go to town, they were sensitive to comments about “dirty hippies”. And I told it once more recently, to a guy who spent much of his youth living below the poverty line. They had plumbing problems sometimes, but when that happened, they showered at school, or went to a neighbor’s house, or whatever they had to do. “I can’t imagine being told to just…stay dirty? To prove a point?”
But that’s now, and at the time, all I knew was that there were people, like migrant farmers, who had it pretty bad, so how could my spoiled (white) ass complain?
Yeah, I got a load of that the year we kids were too hyper at Christmas time, so we and our presents were loaded into the car and driven to the Indian Reservation where we watched them given away to more deserving children. “Weaponized Catholicism” at its best.
Unusually cold this week in Georgia, and I was reminded how we kids had to wear our winter coats to bed. That’s one “gift that keeps on giving:” fresh memories for life. I’m just glad I do now have things I can be grateful about, and I hope you do too.
Stranger, you sound very strong. And yes, I’m in a better situation now.
Oh, Slithy_Tove, I remember you telling that! Ugh, how awful.
And one thing I do have to be grateful for is the luxury bathroom Mr. Rilch had put in a few years ago. Hot showers any time I like.
Prime moderator behavior, but I expect nothing less from you. Attackng the poster is so cute outside of your area. This OP self-posted in the Pit and not some other feel good thread. If Rilchiam wanted a more sensitive response they probably shouldn’t be in the pit.
Oh, rest assured: I was not speaking to you as a moderator, but as a poster. I can read “asshole” in either mode, though.
What was the purpose of your post, though?
Did you have an issue with what she posted? I’m baffled why you would have written something so crass to someone who wrote about their past child abuse.
Just because you can be an asshole doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole.
Stranger
That’s assuming that they have the ability to not be an asshole.
Rilch - I’m so sorry that this was your life. I had some verbal abuse and unrealistic expectations growing up, but no where near what you had to deal with.
What a tough story to read, I’m sorry you had to endure that. It wasn’t ok, and you definitely deserved better.
I thought the cookie recipe story was adorable. What it means to “slowly add milk” is something someone has to teach you; it really isn’t clear how slow you’re meant to go. I would have congratulated you on your caution (if it says “slow”, it’s good you didn’t go fast), given you a hug, and showed you what to do.
Funnily enough, there were plenty of times when my mom patiently showed me things. I’ll never know why she went off the rails that specific time. Fortunately, that one incident certainly didn’t put me off baking.
I’m not going to make this about me and go into detail but I grew up with (lesser) abuse and dysfunction and it never goes away. But I got past it. People can’t tell now and they’re surprised when I tell them. As kids you can often tell who the other kids are.
There was a kid who’s a year or two younger than I but we went to the same Jewish summer camp for years. Fast forward to five years ago and I realize that it’s him in a Facebook Southern California deadhead group. We briefly chatted online and said what we are doing now but didn’t talk about childhood. I ran into him at a festival a couple years ago. We gave each other a big hug and simultaneously said, “we got out!” Nothing more needed to be said.
Well, I have better days and…not so good days. But I excluded those people from my life at a time when that was a thing that therapists told you that you couldn’t do, and have my own small circle of important people whose connections aren’t strictly familial obligations. It sounds like you have a good setup, so congratulations on getting away, having the emotional distance to reflect upon your experiences, and realize that it was awful (even if it wasn’t beatings and CSA) but not your fault.
Stranger
I’m sorry for what you went through. I had neglect and abuse as a kid and I understand a bit though nobody lives the same life so I can’t say I know how you feel. But my heart goes out to you.
I had physical and verbal abuse. I’m still not completely over it and never will be. One way or another it helped make me who I am. What pisses me off is that to this day my mom denies most of it and tries to gaslight me any time it comes up which just makes me angry and guilty again.
My dad acknowledges it but it’s not like he can undo it.
The really fucked up thing is that I didn’t realize I was abused until I was older. I thought that getting beat up when a parent was having a shitty day was just normal family stuff. And I was always criticized and made to feel like I was garbage so I figured I deserved it all. In retrospect it should have been obvious but for whatever reason I was just in denial. It wasn’t until I mentioned stuff in a casual conversation in early adulthood with someone that they pointed out that I was a victim of abuse and it shocked me because I just never thought of it that way.
But considering how my mom still acts like nothing was ever wrong, maybe I was brainwashed.
You’re brave to open up about this and I’m glad you acknowledge what happened to you and know it wasn’t your fault. And yeah, adults can be really awful to kids. I’ve become extremely cautious to not be anything to my kids like my parents. I never lay a hand on them and while I do discipline them (revoking privileges for the most part) and let them know when they make mistakes, I try to encourage them too. I remember what I didn’t get and try to give that to my kids. If nothing else, my parents taught me how to not act to my kids.
Rilchiam, I’m so sorry for you, or anyone, having to endure a life like this. I often feel so blessed that I had the parents, the sisters, and the life I did. It makes it harder for me to understand how people are, because it’s hard to imagine living that way.
So glad we are here so you can tell the story, vent, and hopefully feel better. That’s the thing that keeps me here. Vent as needed.
This.