So who else had lousy parents?
- Thread starter BLACKHAWKNJ
- Start date
DeathGrip
US Veteran
Gigglesnort?
BigBill
Absent Comrade
My dad was an abusive drunk and a gambler. My mom was just abusive. When my three brothers weren't getting beat it was my turn. After being told over and over I was a mistake and a unwanted child I kind of went into my own world separating me from them. I learned at a very young age to stay out if sight. As I got older I realized what I wanted in life I had to work for. When my parents divorced my dad seen me off and on. I found an awesome lady and married her and been with her for almost 40 years now. Then my dad refused to see me but I tried to make up with my dad but he didn't want to see me. After two decades on his death bed he wanted to see me and I refused. I tell my kids I love them and try to go them out every chance I get, I'm there for them. I worked very hard and my misses did too. We worked for everything we have and I like it that way. When I was younger I knew right from wrong and never got into trouble. I'm ok now it was what it was. Now I just make sure my wife and kids are ok. The kids are all grown and have there own homes.
When my parents got divorced I got tired of picking up soda bottles to get the five cent return to buy a loaf of bread so we could eat. I quit high school and went to work fulltime so we had some money to live on. But I had to get away from my mom too. Thank God my misses came along.
I'm sure there are a lot more like me too out there. Just stay focused, pick a trade you like to do and work hard. All of a sudden things will workout and doors plus opportunities will open up for you.
GOD BLESS, BILL
When my parents got divorced I got tired of picking up soda bottles to get the five cent return to buy a loaf of bread so we could eat. I quit high school and went to work fulltime so we had some money to live on. But I had to get away from my mom too. Thank God my misses came along.
I'm sure there are a lot more like me too out there. Just stay focused, pick a trade you like to do and work hard. All of a sudden things will workout and doors plus opportunities will open up for you.
GOD BLESS, BILL
Not an original thought, but this thread makes me question the wisdom of requiring someone to pass a test to get a driver's license but not to have children
mg357
Absent Comrade
My birth father was a very lousy man he became an alcohol addict and ran off with a wild woman when I was a little kid. I have not seen that miserable rotten man Since 1992 when I was 7 years old.
My mother is a wonderful woman, my stepdad is a wonderful man who should be receive a medal for all the wonderful things he has done for me and my family over the years.
My mother is a wonderful woman, my stepdad is a wonderful man who should be receive a medal for all the wonderful things he has done for me and my family over the years.
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BearBio
Member
My parents weren't really bad, per se. Just cold.
Dad was a milkman, worked early morning and went to bed early. Mom was the 1950's suburban parent. A bit overwhelmed I think by 3 boys (I was # 1 in time but not affection). #2 was Dad's favorite and #3 was Mom's. #3 was spoiled rotten. He had "problems", and was "misunderstood" according to Mom. #2 was the Boy Scout, Dad was Troop Leader, went to his school functions, etc.
I remember several times when I was punished for something #3 did. Mom would find out but never apologized. He got rewarded for "C's" and I got punished for "B's".
As I've told before, I went back to school in my 40's, earned a BS in Marine Biology and an MS in Biology (Black Bear Behavior), all with honors or high honors. Mom went to graduation, but paid more attention to #3's kids. I remember trying to show her my Thesis (all bound so pretty) and all she wanted to talk about was the kids doing a skit for the Fourth of July. She never told me once that she was proud of me (I'm still the only one who graduated college).
Just before she died, she asked us to go back to SoCal. She asked for some tortilla soup and I made her some home-made soup according to my recipe. My wife took her into the shower and washed her and her hair. She died that night. #3 had lived with her, rent free (he was "disabled"), for 5-7 years. Never cleaned the house, never did the lawn, never helped out financially. #2 is executor of the trust and he had to literally get #3 evicted and move in just to get the house into shape where a realtor would show it. #3 was caught stealing wrapped presents Mom had left for the grandkids.
Many of you will remember the post where I disclosed the pains of growing up as a functioning autistic. You can imagine the pain that added to the situation.
Oh well, he's disabled, on welfare, and I'm the other side of the country. I have a very loving wife who's put up for me for 25 years now and things are better but a lot of pain remains.
Dad was a milkman, worked early morning and went to bed early. Mom was the 1950's suburban parent. A bit overwhelmed I think by 3 boys (I was # 1 in time but not affection). #2 was Dad's favorite and #3 was Mom's. #3 was spoiled rotten. He had "problems", and was "misunderstood" according to Mom. #2 was the Boy Scout, Dad was Troop Leader, went to his school functions, etc.
I remember several times when I was punished for something #3 did. Mom would find out but never apologized. He got rewarded for "C's" and I got punished for "B's".
As I've told before, I went back to school in my 40's, earned a BS in Marine Biology and an MS in Biology (Black Bear Behavior), all with honors or high honors. Mom went to graduation, but paid more attention to #3's kids. I remember trying to show her my Thesis (all bound so pretty) and all she wanted to talk about was the kids doing a skit for the Fourth of July. She never told me once that she was proud of me (I'm still the only one who graduated college).
Just before she died, she asked us to go back to SoCal. She asked for some tortilla soup and I made her some home-made soup according to my recipe. My wife took her into the shower and washed her and her hair. She died that night. #3 had lived with her, rent free (he was "disabled"), for 5-7 years. Never cleaned the house, never did the lawn, never helped out financially. #2 is executor of the trust and he had to literally get #3 evicted and move in just to get the house into shape where a realtor would show it. #3 was caught stealing wrapped presents Mom had left for the grandkids.
Many of you will remember the post where I disclosed the pains of growing up as a functioning autistic. You can imagine the pain that added to the situation.
Oh well, he's disabled, on welfare, and I'm the other side of the country. I have a very loving wife who's put up for me for 25 years now and things are better but a lot of pain remains.
carpriver
US Veteran
I was raised in a low income family, Both of by parents quit high school in the ninth grade to help there families. My dad was raised on a farm, my mom was a city raised girl. both born and raised during the Great Depression. My father was a only son and 4-f and could not get into the military during WWII. He worked in a Rio truck factory and farmed. My dad was married before he married my mother. I don't know much about my mother up bringing she and her brothers and sisters never talked about there child hood; but they were a close nit family. My early years were pretty good, my mother was a stay at home mother, My father worked in a factory.
The family home burned to the ground when I was about a year old. That was a terrible loose to my parents.
My dad was a hard worker, but not a man that played catch with you or took you fishing very often. He did teach me the value of hard work and taking care of your tools and equipment, to be respectful of others.
My mother was a good mom until I was about 11 years old. She became abusive both physically and emotionally. I have 2 bothers both younger then me. one is 3 years younger the other in 4 years younger. I was her target, and I would lie to her and say I did things to keep her from hurting my brothers. she tried to kill herself twice within a months time frame. She was committed to a state mental hospital for 3 years. During that time I was responsible for my brothers care. I feed them, did the laundry, shopped for the food. cleaned the house; made sure they got up and ate and got to school on time.
When my mother was released from the hospital; she came home and expected everything to be as it was before she was commented. She was a different women then I new as a child. She was now controlling, distant, verbally abusive. She still targeted me as being the reason for all her pain and trouble. I was no good, lazy, a liar, and thief.
In high school I started working to stay away from home. The money I earned was taken from me by my mother. In the 10th grade I opened a checking and saving account to be able to have some of my own money. In my junior year of high school I bought all my own school clothes, my mother didn't like the clothes and threw them in the trash. I got them out of the trash, but made it clear to both my mother and father I was not going to be putting up with her ****. I moved into the summer room ( and unheated porch at the back of the house and lived there until I finished school. I joined the Air Force after high school. I was 18 and didn't need there permission. I didn't tell them until the day before I left for basic training.
We had a strained relationship up until they pasted, They met my wife and sons and I made sure the got to spend time with my sons. but they were not going to influence them. I am now developing a relationship with my brothers. I am finding out how much they love and respect me for what I did for them.
My mother had more influence on me in a positive way them she ever knew. I became a Social Worker, mental health counselor. I have a good relationship with my wife who is a great support and friend. I have a good relationship with my sons and my grand daughters. There are times I think about the Johnny Cash song A boy Named Sue. She made me tough.
The family home burned to the ground when I was about a year old. That was a terrible loose to my parents.
My dad was a hard worker, but not a man that played catch with you or took you fishing very often. He did teach me the value of hard work and taking care of your tools and equipment, to be respectful of others.
My mother was a good mom until I was about 11 years old. She became abusive both physically and emotionally. I have 2 bothers both younger then me. one is 3 years younger the other in 4 years younger. I was her target, and I would lie to her and say I did things to keep her from hurting my brothers. she tried to kill herself twice within a months time frame. She was committed to a state mental hospital for 3 years. During that time I was responsible for my brothers care. I feed them, did the laundry, shopped for the food. cleaned the house; made sure they got up and ate and got to school on time.
When my mother was released from the hospital; she came home and expected everything to be as it was before she was commented. She was a different women then I new as a child. She was now controlling, distant, verbally abusive. She still targeted me as being the reason for all her pain and trouble. I was no good, lazy, a liar, and thief.
In high school I started working to stay away from home. The money I earned was taken from me by my mother. In the 10th grade I opened a checking and saving account to be able to have some of my own money. In my junior year of high school I bought all my own school clothes, my mother didn't like the clothes and threw them in the trash. I got them out of the trash, but made it clear to both my mother and father I was not going to be putting up with her ****. I moved into the summer room ( and unheated porch at the back of the house and lived there until I finished school. I joined the Air Force after high school. I was 18 and didn't need there permission. I didn't tell them until the day before I left for basic training.
We had a strained relationship up until they pasted, They met my wife and sons and I made sure the got to spend time with my sons. but they were not going to influence them. I am now developing a relationship with my brothers. I am finding out how much they love and respect me for what I did for them.
My mother had more influence on me in a positive way them she ever knew. I became a Social Worker, mental health counselor. I have a good relationship with my wife who is a great support and friend. I have a good relationship with my sons and my grand daughters. There are times I think about the Johnny Cash song A boy Named Sue. She made me tough.
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rburg
Member
Just wow. It does kind of change my perspective on things. It seems we all grow up kind of thinking we're abused or whatever. While I had 2 fairly normal parents, they were products of the great depression. I now know they were just cheap. I did grow up worried that we were the poorest family in town. I even wondered if we might need to move, and where an even lower place might be. We were surrounded by families who were living at a much higher standard than we were. The ones that took family vacations for a couple of weeks each summer, some camping vacations. My dad said he had enough camping in the army. There was no way he'd spend the kind of money required for motels.
It was after I'd left home and gotten married that I realized there really wasn't that much difference between us and our neighbors. If anything, my dad had a better job and was never out of work. He was just cheap. I guess that's why my mother is still living pretty well at 92. He saved every cent.
It certainly had an influence on my life. For us a new car was one used and 4 years old. Back in America of the 1950s and 1960s how well you were doing was judged by the vehicle you drove. From that yard stick the others were doing well. For most of them, it was not just new, it was often a Buick or Olds. Kids are fairly cruel to each other, or at least to the kid who was thrilled his dad just got a 4 year old Chevy. Yes, we do buy new cars now on a regular basis. I can afford it and I'm going to do it.
What is missing are any reports from a modern family. How will the welfare families reflect upon their lives? Ma was a crack ho and I have no clue who my baby daddy was? I know it could be one of a dozen guys who came around? The government was my sugar daddy?
It was after I'd left home and gotten married that I realized there really wasn't that much difference between us and our neighbors. If anything, my dad had a better job and was never out of work. He was just cheap. I guess that's why my mother is still living pretty well at 92. He saved every cent.
It certainly had an influence on my life. For us a new car was one used and 4 years old. Back in America of the 1950s and 1960s how well you were doing was judged by the vehicle you drove. From that yard stick the others were doing well. For most of them, it was not just new, it was often a Buick or Olds. Kids are fairly cruel to each other, or at least to the kid who was thrilled his dad just got a 4 year old Chevy. Yes, we do buy new cars now on a regular basis. I can afford it and I'm going to do it.
What is missing are any reports from a modern family. How will the welfare families reflect upon their lives? Ma was a crack ho and I have no clue who my baby daddy was? I know it could be one of a dozen guys who came around? The government was my sugar daddy?
As the eldest of five to parents of the Great Depression I have carried their respect for:
Food, it's precious, don't waste it!
Water, it's precious, don't waste it!
Friends are precious, don't lose them.
Family, take care of each other, love.
I'm finishing 63 this year. I've never owned a new car.
Some things are just more important.
Food, it's precious, don't waste it!
Water, it's precious, don't waste it!
Friends are precious, don't lose them.
Family, take care of each other, love.
I'm finishing 63 this year. I've never owned a new car.
Some things are just more important.
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Calling all psychiatrists! Calling all psychiatrists!
Dysfunctional family spill in Lounge area
Dysfunctional family spill in Lounge area
Poodle Soup
Member
- Joined
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Not even going to go into mine.
Listen to your kids and try to understand where they are coming from. Physical abuse is not the only kind.
Listen to your kids and try to understand where they are coming from. Physical abuse is not the only kind.
BJoe
Member
Well I grew up in an orphanage in Ohio so I am sorry if I can't spare you any tears.
Lord! reading this has reinforced for me how truly blessed I was. My Dad was career Army/AirCorp Air Force and was a way much of the time. He was a good man though but he had his demons. He was a young man when he entered WWII. It was tough on him. He saw some terrible things at Bastogne and at Attu. Maybe that is why he drank. He wasn't a mean drunk or anything, just couldn't function without booze. My Mom was truly an angel. She was also everyone's "Nana". My sister and I grew up all over the world but our house always had loving parents. All of my family on my Mom's side has always been super close. Family on my dad's side always lived far away and we weren't so close. Today, we all are. Mom and Dad are gone, I'm passing thru 62. I hope my son and daughter can write something similar in 30 years or so. Thank ya'll for sharing.
COL Jagdog
Member
I am touched and impressed by the sheer honesty of the various posts.
My heart goes out to all who experienced the angst of growing up with
a dysfunctional parent(s) -- I grew up with a very abusive stepmother
and I will leave it at that -- as strange as this may sound, it actually made me a better person -- my mechanism of dealing with her abuse, was to try to be the perfect" child, to excell academically and athletically, then somehow she would love me -- graduated top 3 from one of the best high schools in the country, college athlete, law review,
solid military career -- she was not there for most of it and I did not "earn" her love -- but I "earned" my life -- and am most thankful for it. I married a really good woman -- we have had a very good marriage (22 yrs so far) -- the typical ups and downs but would not trade for anything else -- 2 very good sons -- life is good. I do have my faults (I carry a Springfield or a Kimber but I do have some nice Smiths) -- and I have learned the value of humility.
True story: As a newly-minted major, I was walking down a line of troop buses carrying a clipboard with troop manifests -- freshly-starched BDU's, intent and focused on the upcoming mission array,
"trooping down the bus line" and the brave major walks into a bus mirror (the bus weighed about 7-8 tons and did not budge) -- it put a pretty nice gash in my forehead -- as I mount the bus steps to check off the troops on the bus, the bus load of troops (E-1's - E-7's) is stifling snickers and laughter at the "fearless" major that is to accompany them into a combat zone -- I told them: "I know that move really instills confidence in you regarding my leadership abilities but wait until you see me head-but* a tank" -- and I started laughing --
they all laughed and we moved on -- but I felt like a total doofus.
Good news is that they really knew that I knew my profession and that their well-being was my major concern.
Life is a crucible that tests all of us -- it is finding the inner strength
to stay the course and to try to do better with our own families that makes the difference. God bless all of you.
My heart goes out to all who experienced the angst of growing up with
a dysfunctional parent(s) -- I grew up with a very abusive stepmother
and I will leave it at that -- as strange as this may sound, it actually made me a better person -- my mechanism of dealing with her abuse, was to try to be the perfect" child, to excell academically and athletically, then somehow she would love me -- graduated top 3 from one of the best high schools in the country, college athlete, law review,
solid military career -- she was not there for most of it and I did not "earn" her love -- but I "earned" my life -- and am most thankful for it. I married a really good woman -- we have had a very good marriage (22 yrs so far) -- the typical ups and downs but would not trade for anything else -- 2 very good sons -- life is good. I do have my faults (I carry a Springfield or a Kimber but I do have some nice Smiths) -- and I have learned the value of humility.
True story: As a newly-minted major, I was walking down a line of troop buses carrying a clipboard with troop manifests -- freshly-starched BDU's, intent and focused on the upcoming mission array,
"trooping down the bus line" and the brave major walks into a bus mirror (the bus weighed about 7-8 tons and did not budge) -- it put a pretty nice gash in my forehead -- as I mount the bus steps to check off the troops on the bus, the bus load of troops (E-1's - E-7's) is stifling snickers and laughter at the "fearless" major that is to accompany them into a combat zone -- I told them: "I know that move really instills confidence in you regarding my leadership abilities but wait until you see me head-but* a tank" -- and I started laughing --
they all laughed and we moved on -- but I felt like a total doofus.
Good news is that they really knew that I knew my profession and that their well-being was my major concern.
Life is a crucible that tests all of us -- it is finding the inner strength
to stay the course and to try to do better with our own families that makes the difference. God bless all of you.
I think the col has it.Many of us have had plenty of bad examples in our lives and our "job" is to set a better one.
DWFAN
US Veteran
Moral fiber. If you have it it doesn't matter what your parents were like. You will survive. Do I have a story? You bet, but I'm not going to share it with you. There is no reason to do so. Life is tough. Live it.
DW
DW
BuckeyeChuck
Member
Imagine a childhood in which both of your parents are committed to each other (and today have been married for 45 years). Both are college educated; dad is a chemist for a famous American steelmaker; mom is a stay-at-home mom to raise four sons and a daughter, of which I am the oldest. You attended church every Sunday; your father read a passage of Scripture to you before bed every night; and you talked openly about your faith. Meals were plentiful and wholesome; the house was large; and the backyard was big enough to play neighborhood ball games. You attended private school from fourth through twelfth grade and graduated first in your class; you took nine years of piano lessons; you won high school speech meets; and you had all the academic credentials to study anything you wanted after high school.
I had it so much better than so many others, including some who have posted in this thread. But I could fill page after page of this thread with stories that, after a time, would make you wonder if I'm just making it all up.
Since I think it a poor idea to post such details on the internet, let me describe my reality today:
My three sons have never been to my parents' house despite a mere 65 miles between us.
My parents never call my children for any reason. They never send letters. They never send email. They don't text. My children see my parents about three times per year and that seems to be a lot of hassle for my parents. Turns out this is how it is for all of the children/grandchildren except for the brother who lives only a few miles away from them.
My parents bought a house in Tampa, FL -- a cool 1,000 miles away from their Ohio home -- and have yet to call either me or my wife to tell us about it. Think about that. My parents plan to move 1,000 miles away for part or all of the year and have not bothered to tell me or two other of my siblings about it.
I had parents. I know because I remember them. But the *concept* of parents is something I dismissed by my mid-20's as a defense mechanism. My wife, who is an only child and who was/is close to her parents (who are model grandparents, simply fabulous) struggles to understand and accept this despite knowing me for almost 20 years. I have very few close friends, but I have told a couple of them what childhood was like in great detail and they stare in stunned silence with each new story that I tell. When I tell them that I fantasized about being the child of friends' parents, they say they can understand why.
Now that I am older, I recognize some generational tendencies. And now that I have three small sons of my own, I am driven to break this vicious cycle of emotional distance and systematic cruelty that can roil lives behind the facade of an ideal American family. I strive to understand each of my sons personally and to have a relationship with each of them, and when they grow up, I hope they *want* to be my friend because of the emotional intimacy to which we will all have contributed. God game them to me and I to them for a purpose and we're going to learn it together. Sadly, it won't be long before they realize the nearly nonexistent nature of my parents. I hope they contrast their own lives favorably with what they observe.
I had it so much better than so many others, including some who have posted in this thread. But I could fill page after page of this thread with stories that, after a time, would make you wonder if I'm just making it all up.
Since I think it a poor idea to post such details on the internet, let me describe my reality today:
My three sons have never been to my parents' house despite a mere 65 miles between us.
My parents never call my children for any reason. They never send letters. They never send email. They don't text. My children see my parents about three times per year and that seems to be a lot of hassle for my parents. Turns out this is how it is for all of the children/grandchildren except for the brother who lives only a few miles away from them.
My parents bought a house in Tampa, FL -- a cool 1,000 miles away from their Ohio home -- and have yet to call either me or my wife to tell us about it. Think about that. My parents plan to move 1,000 miles away for part or all of the year and have not bothered to tell me or two other of my siblings about it.
I had parents. I know because I remember them. But the *concept* of parents is something I dismissed by my mid-20's as a defense mechanism. My wife, who is an only child and who was/is close to her parents (who are model grandparents, simply fabulous) struggles to understand and accept this despite knowing me for almost 20 years. I have very few close friends, but I have told a couple of them what childhood was like in great detail and they stare in stunned silence with each new story that I tell. When I tell them that I fantasized about being the child of friends' parents, they say they can understand why.
Now that I am older, I recognize some generational tendencies. And now that I have three small sons of my own, I am driven to break this vicious cycle of emotional distance and systematic cruelty that can roil lives behind the facade of an ideal American family. I strive to understand each of my sons personally and to have a relationship with each of them, and when they grow up, I hope they *want* to be my friend because of the emotional intimacy to which we will all have contributed. God game them to me and I to them for a purpose and we're going to learn it together. Sadly, it won't be long before they realize the nearly nonexistent nature of my parents. I hope they contrast their own lives favorably with what they observe.
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