I just read an article in this morning’s paper about a Toronto woman who went on a 3-day drinking binge, leaving her 2-year-old to fend for himself. The child died of dehydration. The autopsy also revealed that the baby had a diaper rash equivalent to a third-degree burn.
I hope that whatever punishment this poor baby’s “mother” (and I use that term loosely; mothers are supposed to be nurturing) rightly receives, that they sterilize her as well. The possibility of her bringing another child into the world to torture should be neutralized.
I can’t, I just can’t understand how there are people out there that can so horribly abuse and neglect an innocent living being who depends on them… :mad:
It seems to me that a lot of people have a child for all the wrong reasons (they want a little human-shaped pet/they want to show they love their s.o./they think it will save their marriage). Then they totally fail to make the very VERY large changes in their life necessitated by this little screaming and pooping person. They just get a huge disconnect and fail to think of their responsibilities to the kid as SOMETHING THEY MUST DO. NOW; or they can’t get over their unsupported rage and frustration at the kid when it won’t quit crying, and end up shaking it.
I have no interest in taking on that responsibility either; however, I happen to have the useful option of not getting my genitals within fifty yards of a woman’s, so it’s an issue that’s unlikely to come up.
My mom used to leave me and my three sisters alone for a couple days at a time when our ages spanned 6 to 11. Once I had to go door to door to find a lawn to mow so we could walk to the 7-11 and buy some food. I think we got candy.
One night, at around the same period, my dad left the four of us locked in a street-parked car while he went into a bar for a couple hours.
My stepdad was a psycho who mentally tortured my mother (Him. Wanna go out for dinner? Her: Sure! [gets dressed up, ready to go] Him: [still reading the paper in his underwear] Just wondering.). Sometimes when they fought my mom would gather up her four kids–he had 5–and tell us that we were such terrible kids that we were costing her her second marriage.
Once, when I was washing dishes, my stepdad stood behind me and whispered in my ear for twenty minutes or so that I was useless and worthless and stupid and doomed and no one like me or would ever like me and I should probably just kill myself.
lissener, my SO also went through that sort of hell so I hope you take this in the spirit in which it’s intended. I agree with tdn on the whole but, whether you’re aware of it or not, sometimes you come off as trying your best to lower yourself to your stepdad’s expectations. You’re okay, really, but there are times when you overreact and that can drive people away. It’s the same way with my SO.
What the fuck does “honest” have to do with “valid”? Of all of the people who have any right whatsoever to make “honest” observations about my psychology and my history, you’re right down on the list with Imelda Marcos and plankton.
Dude, I obviously don’t know you from Adam but I do have personal experience with someone who was also raised in an openly hostile environment. Physically, verbally, mentally, and sexually abused. You name it, they probably did it.