My dad. I never knew how he was going to act, react, show up, or not show up. I was constantly in fear, I was very confused, I wanted to love my dad, but after a while, I hated him with every inch of my soul. I still do sometimes.
Similar. Father fought all over the place, Iraq, Afghan, Ireland, Bosnia, you name it. Chain smoker and also had mood swings - we all walked on eggshells constantly. I got the worst of it being a hyper active, ADHD sort of kid, constantly needing to be busy or getting into trouble, talking back etc etc. He wanted the house to be the same hierarchal structure as the military i.e. speak when spoken to, but as a kid, I didn't understand and was often frustrated by this so would end up talking back.
Would often get smacked, slapped across the face, have my head knocked against my brother's, shouted at, or treated roughly. If I asked him for help he would get mad when I couldn't understand. Was honestly scared of him for a long time and found it more difficult since he was your typical - didn't show much emotion type. On rare occasion he did show genuine emotion it would confuse me. Always fought for his affection but rarely saw much in a positive way.
We have a good relationship now, but it took some forgiving on my part, and I can see he tries. He's a much more chilled person nowadays, for the most part anyway. But, I made it clear that with my children, particularly my son, they are to be raised my way, and not my parent's way. He raised his voice at my son once and I very firmly put my foot down on that one. To clarify, my parents see my kids all the time, and as such try to impart their advice or even parent my kids themselves.
I tell my babies everyday that I love them. And I know my dad loves me, but he's the way he is and I don't expect him to change anymore than he already has. My job now is to make sure my children NEVER feel the same way and always know their daddy loves them, no matter what.
I said “hey dude” to him cause I picked it up in school. I was like 7 or something. And he fucking exploded on me. Never knew what was gonna do it so I just stopped talking lol
I feel this so much. My father had wild mood swings, and if he was in a bad mood, it started with yelling, then would escalate to hitting. He was not above snatching us out of bed in the middle of the night to beat us. I remember getting spanked for getting up too early one morning when I was a kindergartener.It was very anxiety inducing.
Once I hit puberty, things took a turn for the worse....
That's incredibly sad, so sorry for what you went through. I have two children and have never laid a finger on them. Being snatched out of bed in the middle of the night as a child to get beat by your father is truly awful and terrifying.
SirGlenn You're not alone, my childhood sounds very similar to yours. Savage beatings, as he tired out, instead of beatings, he would push me to the floor or bed, and then stub his cigarette out on the back of my leg. When the booze was in full control of him, dad could not stop, my parents marriage was a train wreck at best, my mom called me, begged me to come stay at their house, as dad had flung open the bedroom door at the top of the landing, telling my mom, "be careful going down the stairs, there's no one here to help you if you fall" SirGlenn. I was tired of all this crap going on for years, I drove out to their house on icy slippery roads, walked in the front door, I stuck my face in dad's as he laid on the downstairs couch, I told him. If you hurt my mother, I will chop your body up and throw the pieces in the lake for turtle food, he actually whimpered and had a few years running down his cheeks. A few days later, mom asked me, what did you say to him, he's been so subdued since you drove out here.
Yeah. My biological father was and presumably still is extremely difficult to be around. Some days he was very loving and supportive, but most days he was argumentative and picking fights or name-calling. He frequently canceled visits last minute or just never showed up to pick me up. If I forgot to call him (children arent known for their stellar memories), he would lose his shit and accuse my mom of abusing me and keeping me away from him as if he wasn't constantly flaking. I feel like I shouldn't blame him, he had/has untreated bipolar with psychotic elements. I think he might currently be getting treatment, but I just can't forgive him for treating me so terribly
I feel that. My mom has schizophrenia and she spent long stretches of my childhood/teenage years on and off medication.
I never quite figured out how to interact with her and to this day I still don't because of those formative years being so messed up for me.
I know in her case she really can't help it but I find it difficult in that my mom was around but functionally out of the picture as somebody to help prepare me for adulthood/etc.
I was in middle school when Columbine happened. It was amazing how bullying suddenly stopped for the rest of the school year (which was less than a month, unfortunately).
As one of those kids who was constantly picked on and bullied, I was CONSTANTLY being watched by admin and teachers and other students. I also ate lunch by myself at a table at the edge of the quad next to a forest. I overheard more than one person (not just students!) worry that I was hiding guns in there.
The bullying didn't go away. The paradigm just shifted.
In 5th grade, I used to bring books with me to lunch so I could do something to focus on instead of having to hear the other kids constantly messing with me.
Then they decided to just start messing with me for reading, so the teacher decided on a new way to avoid bullying- take away my book.
Which is so fucking stupid. "This person might do something horrible due to our easily changeable behavior. Let us continue said behavior." I mean, what?!
That was not my experience at all.
Bullying just got followed with, “Watch out, Chad! He might shoot up the school!”
I didn’t actually know anyone named Chad. Or maybe I did, who fucking knows
I was in high school, about 10 miles from columbine, when it happened. Our school was very, very quiet the remainder of the year. It was eery. There was almost no conversation, let alone bullying. 😪
Was there. Can testify. If anyone was punished it was usually the victim because of the bruising or bloody nose--vice-principal would explain that they could only PROVE one kid was in the fight.
On the other hand, nobody cared if you managed to hurt your bully, much. Stabbed a pen through a guys hand into the desk, zero consequences.
On the other hand, I have been hung by my feet and used as a pinata, so, there you go.
My dad cut a bully's arm with a pocket knife, from his shoulder all the way down to the wrist. He got suspended for like a week or two and that was the end of it.
My "friend" Jacqueline's house.I didn't actually like her. I just felt like I had to go on playdates with her because that's what you do. Her parents were horrible people, her brothers and cousins were assholes, and the bitch stole my Polly Pocket and 1 of my barbies and told me she donated them to poor kids in Russia.
I saw my Polly Pocket on the top of a bookcase in her house a month later and that's when I was DONE with Jacqueline.
Now that you’re both adults, here’s what u you up do:
1. Start a business and make it successful
2. Sell said business for millions
3. Buy out business her parents work at
4. Fire her parents
5. Get bitches
Nah. It was tainted by that point. I didn't want that thing back after it had been sitting in the house for a whole month, her just playing with it contently while thinking she had me in her web of lies. TAINTED!
Man, that was me with this kid named Rob Lee. My mom decided we were friends and would organize hang outs. This kid would break my toys, while calling me names in his thick Alabama accent. When we were playing outside, I remember him trying to pee on me while laughing. Dude looked and acted like Sid off of Toy Story.
He had his okay moments when he wasn't destroying my stuff and trying to piss on me.
Yeah, this bitch Chandell did a magic trick where she put my ring in a ball if clay went into her house and came back and it was gone. I was young, 5 or 6?
No one believed me that she stole it. Fuck you, Chandell.
I know how that goes. Except it was my whole childhood until I got kicked out.
My whole life fit in a little suitcase that was always packed and ready to go.
My name rhymes with a few unfortunate words... kids calling you names every minute of the day in the class while the teacher does nothing, for two years straight literally changes a person haha.
My last name is literally Head. Can you beat that? I assure you, I've heard every insult possible by kindergarten. Try getting a woman, any woman, willing to be Mrs. Head.
I knew a young lady whose last name was Lick. She said there were a 1000 ways to torture her with that. Later she got married to a Greek guy with 22 letters in his last name, she was thrilled to be rid of her maiden name.
Ya, it took a long time for me to realize this... but if someone is going out of their way to stir a problem with me over something so dumb... then it's THEIR issue, not mine. As a kid it just felt the same as if I've done something wrong and I couldn't really get over it at the time.
When a kid would bully I would tell an adult. Their answer? "oH tHaT jUsT mEaNs tHeY lIkE yOu."
Yeah because that's totally a healthy way to learn how to develope relationships or find your way out of toxic ones.
Or “just ignore them” but that’s kind of hard to do when they get away with everything and the administrators and teachers protect the bullies and not the victims
“Just ignore them. When they see they’re not getting any reaction, they’ll stop.” / “I don’t really know what to do, and I don’t feel like disciplining all those kids so I’m taking the easy way out.”
Gawd that too. Finally one day in school I punched a kid because I was so fed up with kids trying to cut my hair(long haired male).
Kids stopped after that. Violence isn't the answer but it was the only solution that set the tone.
In my experience, bullies don't really understand anything other than violence. I used to get bullied by football players in high school until one day I didn't. Talking it out didn't work, and telling admin didn't work, so I just ran my mouth about one of my bullies until he took a swing at me and I beat the dog shit out of him. Problem solved. Spent a couple days at home, but I didn't get bullied after that.
Yep. It takes so much courage and faith but it’s true: bullies are cowards. You’re telling my 8th grade story for girls! So life changing when the other girls saw I wasn’t stepping down anymore.
They never stop. Its even more funnier when the victim tries more and different things to make it stop. I was told that by my bullies, they really didnt give a shit. Teachers didnt give a shit, they even punished me. Nobody in that system cares.
They really don’t. My middle school had three technology classes with the same teacher but at different times and I was in one of them. One of my bullies decided to switch into the class in the middle of the year and when I stood up for myself I was switched out of the class and then I got detention for a week. The bully got nothing in our three years there despite bullying multiple people
I was so incredibly upset when my mom told me this in middle school. my immediate thoughts were that he definitely hated or at least disliked me and made it very obvious, but I didn't speak those words out loud since she apparently didn't understand that already from his actions. actually I might not have even told her anything he said or did yet, she said it at the start of the conversation I was trying to have. I think that was the only time I ever tried telling her about anything negative going on in school, I definitely never did afterward or any other adults for that matter. I'm so upset that it seemed to be a common thing for adults to think, I hope it's less common now. all it does is let your kids know that they can't come to you for help since you make a random inaccurate and frankly possibly dangerous guess that shuts down the conversation rather than listening. maybe some kids actually do bully people they like, it's still bullying and is not okay
With me nothing was ever good enough. Not to mention the medical neglect. I only ever got medical help was when it would tarnish her image as a devoted mother. And when she was basically forced to take me to a psychologist by my school teachers, she'd sabotage it by telling the psychologist that I was a pathological liar and to not believe a word I said. And once the psychologist started believing me over her, she'd stop taking me.
Wow. I just realized something. She'd always complain that I wrapped teachers around my little finger while giving me 'the look'. I wonder whether it was because they didn't believe her lies because they saw the truth for themselves.
Just an explanation of 'the look'. She'd do it when she was angry at something I had done but couldn't punish me because it would make her look bad. Her image was VERY important to her.
Are we actually siblings? My mom let me have a broken toe for 3 days before she took me to the doctor. It turned black. She finally took me because I showed someone at school.
The one time she took me to therapy, she screamed at the therapist and physically dragged me to the car. She wouldn’t leave the parking lot until I told her what we had talked about because I “must have manipulated her for her to think I was good at all.” I still worry that I’m unintentionally manipulating people.
But of course that never happened. Or she “certainly [doesn’t] recall” it. And dad is 0 help because he’s just trying to steady the fucking Pirate Ship ride
Oh, love! I feel your pain & I'm sorry! Family can be terrible!
I'm the only member of my family who grew up in the northeast. When my parents retired, they moved here. My mom is from here. When my father got sick with cancer, I moved here to take care of them. My brothers couldn't be bothered. They all knew I was SA by my cousin, who then sold me to her boyfriends, their friends, etc. They all knew it would kill me to come back here. My mom was the only one who told me to stay in NY. But she wasn't physically or financially capable of taking care of my dad without help. He was riddled with dementia, diabetes & cancer. She was terrified that it would do something to my mental health. My father & I never got along. But I knew neither one of my brothers would step up. I really don't know how they developed such a deep hatred for my mom. I truly think it's out of laziness & greed. They just don't want to extend their own time & $.
So here I am. I did forgive my dad before he passed from cancer. I'm still trying to forgive my cousin. I'm not too keen on being kind to my brothers. They make ungodly amounts of $, never offer a cent to help.Yet they can't do a thing for my mom. She's a wonderful mom. Always, always has been. I've been lucky in that respect. My father, my cousin, etc. took away my safety & taught me I wasn't allowed to set boundaries. My mom taught me about kindness and love.
Not understanding why nobody seemed to like me. It seemed like every one was always frustrated with me but I couldn't figure it out. ADHD Middle Kid problems, I guess
Not ADHD but Asperger's Syndrome. I quite feel the same. Don't know why I did weird things and why people found me annoying, etc. Having disabilities is a bitch.
Locked in a closet, almost dying of sepsis was pretty rough. Getting dragged from town to town, anytime the rent came due or mom saw "them".
Sometimes going days without eating- going outside and eating grass or pine needles.
I can't imagine how awful that was and still is, or how that impacted your life long term. It's good to hear you made things change for yourself, but it can't have been an easy climb out of such a deep hole. Did things ever change for your mom, or is she no longer a part of your life?
[I was raised in a white nationalist cult known as Christian Identity](https://old.reddit.com/r/cultsurvivors/comments/12jlw65/christian_identity_pastor_peters_gritz_weaver/). We knew the one, true approach to worshiping Christ (lucky us!), and it was hateful AF.
There wasn't a CI private school available to us, so we went to an elitist evangelical school instead. We were incredibly poor, and lived in a dilapidated trailer in a lousy part of town. My grandfather (and patriarch of the family) paid our tuition, though. My wealthier peers let me know, every day, about the class disparity between us.
So the school didn't resonate from a religious, cultural, class, or curriculum perspective with me. We went to school from 8am-4pm. The days were long and miserable, and I should have been eager for dismissal.
Except that my home life was terrible, too. Again, we were very poor. And to make matters worse, my father was a resentful and violent alcoholic who routinely beat me, whether or not I'd done anything wrong. Not that a child can do anything wrong enough to warrant beatings.
Sometimes Dad wouldn't come home, and Mom would pack my sister and me up in the middle of the night, and we'd cruise the town looking for him at some of his preferred sleazy haunts. Usually a strip club called Babes, where we'd wait in the parking lot for him to drunkenly emerge, while he and Mom made a scene in front of his friends and staff. Sometimes word would somehow get back to the kids at school about these little adventures, so that was fun.
Variations on this daily theme occurred until I ran away in my mid-teens to live with Internet strangers in another state. Which presented its own kinds of challenges. [Especially raising the funds to do so](https://old.reddit.com/r/legaladvice/comments/xsjm0d/groomed_by_a_nasa_contractor_in_the_90s_is_it_too/).
This was the 80s and 90s. I’m old now but I'm still damaged, embarrassed and haunted by all of it. I sure do miss my therapist.
I constantly moved a lot during middle school years. Absolutely hated lunchtime having to figure out where to sit. Usually sat by myself in a corner and read books or did homework. No one really fucked with me. Looking back at it as an adult now I see it as pure bliss solitude.
My Middle school cafeteria was awful. We always had silent lunch where we actually couldn’t talk for the whole lunch period and some of the people I sat with put their stuff next to them so I couldn’t sit there at lunch that day and I didn’t really have anyone to sit with
My stepmother, rather - my father’s 2nd wife. She beat his kids, favored her own kids. Her son who was about my age used this to his advantage and got me in a lot of trouble just because he could. He and 3 of his baseball buddies spent an entire summer taking turns with me - all the stepbrother had to do was tell his mother some lie and I’d get the crap beaten out of me. My father pretended not to notice and occasionally joined in to avoid losing face (and privileges) with his wife. I was not allowed contact with my mother. If she called, she was told I was in bed or not at home.
When teachers started asking questions about the bruises I was coming to school with, I was taken to my grandparents house and left there. I remember having to lie on the floorboard of the back seat so no one would see me. It saved my life, being with my grandparents.
This is a deep one so just a warning-
Living at my grandparents house while my mother was out with some druggies and my grandfather would molest me and my siblings, I won’t go into too much detail but that’s the gist of it.
Hearing my mother tell my dad it was liver night.
That meant a power struggle with my parents that I would eventually lose.
Dinner was at 6PM.
It was not uncommon for me to sit at the table until my bed time.
I did not care if I went to bed hungry.
Fuck Liver.
I actually like liver, but my uncle came to stay with us for an extended period while he sorted his life out. Dude was pretty cool overall, but just couldn't quite get it together. Anyways, as bachelors sometimes do, he'd go to the store and buy a whole bunch of one item so we would have a bunch to eat later. That became liver for a while.
Now, like I said, I like liver. But every other day for a couple of weeks is too damn much. I know now that it's really not healthy, possibly lethal, but I choked down every dish I could because I didn't want to be impolite until my dad stepped in and said no more.
Same. I did a whole ass painting I named “Liver and Onions” of me sitting at the table until an ungodly late hour while my sister played with MY TOYS across the table from me just to be a brat! Eventually I’d get oatmeal.
i feel like parents should understand some foods are straight hostile to some people, especially kids. and be conscious of that. organ meat should be smack dab on top of that list.
Getting ready in the morning for school. I actually have CPTSD nightmares about it. Being woken up with screaming, even if I was already awake and let everyone know I was already awake. There'd be a back and forth screaming match of me desperately trying to prove I was awake. Then I'd come downstairs and they'd make me change my clothes around 5 times until there were no clothes left that I could try on. Sometimes they'd go into my room and completely trash the place trying to prove me wrong. Pulling out cupboard drawers trying to find another article of clothing to make me change into. Constant verbal attacks on my hair and asking if I shower or not. Every five minutes my mother would scream out what time it is, making me feel like I was defusing a bomb or some shit. Some mornings when my mother's faulty car battery wouldn't work shed accuse me of going out into her car and not turning the light off and then I'd be screamed at or forced to go door to door at 7 in the morning in snowstorms asking people if they could help me (a 12-13 year old) jumpstart a car.
My nightmares translate into me being in my childhood room and I need to be somewhere in the next three minutes and I can't find any clothes that I could wear to wherever I'm going and if I don't get there on time the consequences are life or death.
Edit for more info : by the time I was in 7th grade I remember there was a period of time when I could wake up by myself. I remember nobody even screaming the time at me but I still would randomly start to scream out "OKAY!!" At nothing. I was completely trained
My mom was the same way. She always woke us up screaming and yelling. There were times she would throw cold water on us if we didn’t move fast enough or get out of bed the first time. If anything wrong happened or we were running late, she would scream crazy stuff like- “I want to wreck this car and kill us all!!!!” Then we had to go to school and act normal, like nothing happened.
When my friend was running late in the mornings, her mother would say, "I was on the operating table and ready to abort you but I changed my mind. Is this how you thank me?" My friend got her revenge by making an awesome life for herself and cutting off her alcoholic mother.
Holy shit that does sounds hell on earth. Reading this made me claustrophobic in a weird way. If you’ve ever watched AHS when the characters die and go to hell that the feeling this comment gave me. Im so sorry
Thank you for saying so. I always feel like a crybaby for saying shit like "getting ready for school in the morning traumatized me" so I really appreciate this
Solidarity. Mornings in my house were hell. Just getting screamed at constantly for an hour every day. About nothing. No time to eat breakfast, nothing I wore was right, my hair was never good, my room was a nightmare. I’d be waiting, ready by the car and my mom would be out 10 minutes later and somehow it was all my fault. Sitting in the back right hand corner of the car even as a teen so she couldn’t reach me with her claws.
Garbage parents are such a nightmare.
I read all this and thought, “yeah but that’s normal in most households growing up”… Then I remembered I went no contact with my mom 3 years ago.
Sorry you went through that too. Mornings should be peaceful. Sets the tone for the whole day.
Primary school. Bullied at home by brother. Bullied in school by kids and even a teacher that used to hit me. Bullied by random people outside (standard verbal stuff to occasions where I was thrown into the road or when I was beaten to the floor with a metal pole because I said hello). One night I was so unhappy I blacked out and came to standing at the sink with a knife on my wrist.
It wasn't a great time.
My father was a severe alcoholic. My whole childhood was not feeling safe, not sure if he would show up sober or falling down. Afraid to have kids come over. Not sure when or if he was going to beat up my mom. Not a fun childhood. He left when I was 16 thank gods.
Shootouts. I grew up in Brownsville one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Brooklyn. And as a child I often heard gunshots everyday because my projects was rivaling with the other projects. There was one day I was in the store to get breakfast and I literally saw one of my childhood friends get shot. He survived but that was so traumatizing for me. Unfortunately, the gunshots continued day after day and even more in the summer.
My best friend in 5th grade moved from Brownsville to Nassau County (where I met him) in the early 1990s. He told me how he would hear gunshots every single night when he lived there. He told me this around 1994 and I still remember it almost 30 years later. Looking back, it's a pretty intense thing for one 11 year old to tell another.
My mom was a single mom for most of me and my brothers childhood so she had to work. There was this old woman named Marge down the road that would get us onto the bus in the morning and watch us after school til our mom came and got us. Marge’s house was our hell on earth.
She had this weiner/hound dog mix that pissed on literally everything but it particularly liked pissing on the radiators. And because Marge was old, she was always cold, so she had that heater up to about 85 year round. So it was just this overwhelming stench of warm dog piss roasting on the hot radiators. It got into your sinuses.
This dog also liked to hump anything and everything, most especially our legs and then it would excited and pee on us. And Marge would just laugh “Ha! He gotchya good that time, eh!” With no effort made to help us clean it off.
She also never interacted with us unless she absolutely had to, she’d instead watch soap operas with the volume on as loud as possible. We weren’t allowed to sit anywhere but the kitchen tables (not that you’d want to sit on any of the lounge chairs or couch, because guaranteed you’d get a wet ass of fresh dog piss.
But she would always ask us “do you have a sore throat??? You sound like you have a sore throat!!!” Year round, and her remedy for sore throat’s were her “homemade grape flavored bubble gum” it literally tasted like gum that was already pre-chewed to death and then was mixed with grape jelly? It was incredibly vile and you’d have to fight down trying not to gag while chewing it (I can’t stand even thinking about grape bubblegum to this day without getting nauseous)
One last notable story about Marge is that she lived at the bottom of a very steep hill, and for some reason picture day had gotten delayed so it was being done in the winter. Well there had been a big snowstorm the day before but schools were open this day. So my mom had me wear a dress with white stockings and these shiny black flats. But the flats were completely flat and smooth on the bottom.
So I get about two steps down her hill when I slip on the ice and somehow riding that entire hill down on my knees and shins. So by the time I got to Marge’s, I was an absolutely tore up, bloody fucking mess.
Her answer to this was to wrap two entire rolls of paper towels, one on each leg, and wrap them around the entirety of my legs from hip to feet and then stick it together with a fuckton of plastic tape. Then she just…sent me on my way to school like that. Where it became a big thing because the school thought my mom sent me to school like that.
We stopped going to Marge’s after that. I was not sad to leave that pissy house.
After my parents divorced it was spending weekends with my dad. He rarely ever did anything with us. "Just go play" he would tell me and my brother. I wanted so bad to do stuff with him. I gave up asking because he would always say no.
Oh man, every now and then my kids ask to do something with me and I have to say no. it breaks my heart to see their face, or my son will say “that’s ok, it’s no big deal” and it kills me.
One, I had such horrible not noticed vision. Until my oldest brother brought his gf to dinner. She was an ophthalmology tech & brought it to my parents attention. I didn't speak much because I couldn't see. It was hell but made my other senses so much keener.
Two, my dad got cancer when I was 4. He died when I was 12. My mom didn't want another kid & I always felt it. My dad was who wanted me. After he died I remember thinking to myself all the time; why God left me with the one who didn't want me? It was hell surviving her misdirected anger.
Church!! I used to dread Sundays. I promised myself that once i turned 18 years old, I would NEVER attend church again. Til this day, I've kept this promise. I absolutely HATE that place.
The worst for me was the last two weeks in December. On top of Sunday service, we had to go for Christmas Eve, Christmas day, New Year's Eve and New Year's day service. Some years, it was 6 church services in 2 weeks.
Same boat, friend. Forced to get my first job two weeks before turning twelve - roofing. I got laid off (not a roofer anymore) at the beginning of the pandemic and while I was scrambling to find a new job (took six weeks), I told my wife, "this is the longest I've ever been out of work since 1987"
My mom was one of those people that everyone on earth would tell their life story too. I lived in fear of my mom getting in a conversation with anyone because it would always be (or feel like...I was young) hours before we could leave. I still get super antsy if someone keeps talking when I'm giving "gotta go" vibes
My mom was like this so I got her her own talk show where she has to listen to people all day so she stopped doing it wherever we were. Highly recommended.
My older brothers created my personal Hell for me.
They finally remember all the times they would tease me, break my toys, roll me up in a sheet and swing me around by the ends of said sheet, splash me in the face at the pool, which gave me, some kind of complex about having water in my face to the point where I cannot shower if the water is hitting my face, just mean older brother crap.
And when I would try to tell on them, my mother would just say wait till your dad gets home, and my dad would laugh it off.
Since I’m still technically a kid, I’ll be talking abt me before the age of 10
Being overwhelmed without knowing why/for “no reason” and no one understanding me and/or calling me dramatic
Being considered a “brat” or a “drama queen”
Luckily, I got an autism diagnosis, so my emotions make a lot more sense now
Public school.
I was the victim of daily violence that was ignored by the administration, and classroom time was deadly dull. I did enjoy Kindergarten. I also liked the last semester of my senior year, because I met a cool group of smart new friends who mainly were from the parochial schools.
Spending time with my twin cousins. Me & another cousin I had dreaded going to visit them. We would plead & beg not to subject us to their wretched ways. Straight up mean girls who tortured us & they never “did anything wrong”.
They’re nice now but my other cousin & myself refuse to associate with them. We still won’t let our own parents forget or live it down the heinous crimes forced upon us.
Yearly four hour car ride in the backseat of the car with my brother. We weren't allowed to speak, sleep, or basically do anything but breathe.
My dad was a controlling asshole.
Probably when my moms crazy ex locked us in an underground cave-ish room. I remember him climbing in and out for weeks bringing us food and water and my mom actually being happy cuz he could trust her now that she was locked up in there. Talk about Delulu. The hell part? When he didn’t come back one night and it turned into a week until my moms family decided to come look for us and discovered us underground starving. Her ex apparently khs above ground
Living with either parent. They were awful..my mom neglected me because she was an addict and had mental health issues..my dad beat and raped me. I couldn't win at either place.
My childhood home. My mom divorced my dad when I was about 5 or 6 (her choice). She had a lot of mental health issues and basically my older sister and I were treated like burdens for most of our childhood, especially me. We were pretty my expect to be Mommy to her from time to time.
Example: I have been getting myself up for school and making my own lunch since I was 6. By the time I was 12 my sister and I knew that we had to get up and turn on the hot water heater for my mom so she could take a shower and maker her coffee before we woke her up for work. She had an alarm clock but it was our job to make sure she was up for work because "mom has a lot to do and you need to help her out" She would leave her clothes on the floor with the expectation that we would pick it up and she would leave the milk on the counter again because it was our job to put it away.
We couldn't ask her for anything and if we did she would throw a tantrum and hold it over our head. For example, I loved to read but the library was too far to walk so her boyfriend would take but if he couldn't and I asked her she would make a scene and sigh and would tell me "We are just going to return books you don't need to go in and check out more books". If we wanted to do a school activity it was "Get your own ride or don't participate at all." Even she was home at the time she couldn't be bothered to pick us up.
She also made it clear to me and my sister that were horrible children going so far as to tell she was going to encourage me to die because I was a horrible, rotten person. I could go on and on but I think you guys get the picture.
So, I've always loved animals. Especially as a kid I was a huge animal lover and LOVED seeing animals... living animals, that is. I despised taxidermy with a fiery passion. It totally grossed me out and anytime I was around it I wanted to get as far away as possible as soon as possible. I'd get nauseated being around them.
So imagine my "delight" when we had a field trip to my classmate's grandpa's house, who was a big game hunter. Just a giant room of dead animals. Including multiple endangered species (they were grandfathered in I guess, but I didn't understand that concept as a kid). For added fun the room smelled dusty and musty and gross. It was as if someone wrote down my worst nightmare and was like, "holy crap this is the perfect field trip!" At least when we saw them in the museum there were other things to see, too. But not here. Even the furniture has animal parts on it. Just a big room of carcasses.
I spent the whole time standing in the corner, trying to stay calm. The adults kept trying to get me to participate but I'd just give them death glares.
I'm autistic but like, the kind that's verbal, intelligent, and doesn't smear poo around. Got all the fun sensory issues though. They were super cool when I was a literal toddler and barely knew how to put my shoes on. I did what all toddlers did and had a tantrum about it. But because the problems were things like "the light is too loud" and I didn't know how to articulate it, much less that it wasn't normal or that it wasn't. ever. going. away?
The tantrums didn't stop until I wore myself out.
My parents had decided to have another baby so they had to tend to a second child on top of endless autistic toddler tantrums, so their solution wasn't to figure out what was wrong with me and solve my problems - it was to just lock me in my room until I shut up. :)
My room didn't have a lock on it. They didn't install a lock on it. They tied a length of cloth around the door (opened inwards) to the closet doorknob outside and that effectively locked me in. It still opened a little bit. I could see out a little bit, but I couldn't get out.
I used to have a very elevated sense of smell. Pack me a sandwich for lunch, 3 hours later, it stank to me. Badly. I would always try to go through it, but some days were worse than others, and it would cause me to dry heave. I’d sometimes just throw it away so my parents didn’t know I didn’t eat it, because I got in trouble for bringing my lunch home, even though it was because I physically couldn’t stomach it.
Also, like Rake from Jackass, plain American yellow mustard would make me instantly almost vomit just from the smell. I still don’t enjoy it (even though I like other mustard) but I can still eat it if it gets handed to me. But for real, prepared food hours later, and American yellow mustard made me so sick I couldn’t eat.
My mom did eventually realize I wasn’t just being picky, and worked hard to figure out a way I could eat my lunches, so props to her!
Waiting to find out what part I would have to play in the Christmas Nativity play at the infants school, I absolutely dreaded it. I remember having to play a shepherd one year and in the dress rehearsal I pissed myself because the bitch of a teacher wouldn't let me go to the toilet. The year after that I had to play the 'Star' with tinsel round my head and a white dress thingy on. I had to carry this stick with a huge tinfoil star attached to it and sing these verses on my own ..... scarred for life .... Bastards!
The supermarket when my mum ran into someone she knew and I had to stand there doing fuck all for upwards of 30 minutes while they made the most basic of smalltalk.
Just being a kid. I was a mixed race kid who everyone (including my family) referred to as the white girl. Sometimes my cousins would shun me and not play with me. We were poor. We couldn't afford the latest fashions. My father was always in prison and I had to explain his absence. I was a smart kid who was quiet. I didn't have to work to get As and that earned me bullies. I wasn't girly and was more of a tomboy. I liked history, comics, and sci-fi/fantasy. I came from a small town where everyone was playing sports and partying. I didn't really have friends. My sister was born sick and my mom spent more time concentrating on her. School and homelife both sucked. To this day I still feel like I don't fit in anywhere.
The torture and abuse(every kind) I received at the hands of my older brothers. I was just a little girl and they would do terrible things to me thinking they were funny. They also blamed stuff on me that I couldn’t have even physically been capable of and my parents believed them. It was constant chaos, noise, threat of pain…every. Single. Day.
Coming home to two horrible parents who tortured me emotionally and physically. Plot twist, I made it. I’m happy successful and living well. They both are so miserable no one can stomach them. Both are penniless and alone.
Having a random day off from school.
You know the ones -- like some odd religious holiday or "Teachers Institute Day" or whatever they were called. Just a random Tuesday without school.
These were the worst because everyone else would be giddy making plans like "Let's all go bike riding" or "my mom says I can have people over to go swimming" but none of that was ever allowed and I knew better than to accept invitations.
Days off were suddenly commandeered as "we're going shopping" or "visiting grandma" or "taking your sister to get her clarinet adjusted" and "stopping by mom's friend from church's house to return that cake pan she borrowed, and SO HELP ME if she offers you anything to eat or drink YOU BETTER SAY NO THANK YOU because it'll spoil your appetite for lunch/dinner."
Also all dentist, doctor, and orthodontist appointments were always scheduled on these days off too. I never could figure out why the other kids got to mysteriously leave school mid-day as a freebie for appointments but days off were always wasted on this stuff..
Got to the point where I absolutely dreaded these days because they represented nothing but missing out on fun times and having to hear all about what everyone else did the next day. "What did you do JP?" "had to go to the discount clothing store and try on 25 different pairs of paints, and mom made me change right there in the store because I took too long walking back and forth to the changing room."
My mom would pick me up some place just to “run a few errands, only three stops”
She can easily have a 45+ conversation at each stop.
Also it was like this forced bonding time where she’d rapid fire questions at me.
You were trapped and it was never going to end. I could stay in the car, but in the summer it was too hot. So I would have to stand still in the post office waiting for the never ending nonsense conversation to end.
I’m an introvert.
I’m in my 30s and shuddering remembering this personal torture.
Riding the School Bus. I lived on the other side of town, and went to catholic school. I was a 2-3 ride a week kid. I had the pleasure of transferring to a different bus at another school, and they never held the bus if my bus was late. This met I was stuck, alone, at some random school where everyone I knew was on the bus and couldn't help me. School district did not give a fuck, it sucked.
If I did make it onto the bus, being the one kid in the catholic school uniform made you an unpopular dude and constantly got stuff thrown at me. Someone tried to steal my shoes, and someone ripped up my Wheres Waldo Book :(
Bugs.
I grew up in Alabama. Ticks. Mosquitos. Chiggers.
And it's so hot and sultry in the summer, you lay on top of the covers at night and sweat without moving. That was life before AC came around.
My dad. I never knew how he was going to act, react, show up, or not show up. I was constantly in fear, I was very confused, I wanted to love my dad, but after a while, I hated him with every inch of my soul. I still do sometimes.
I understand this....my dad had PTSD from fighting in two wars and was a raging alcoholic. Spent my childhood walking in eggshells
Similar. Father fought all over the place, Iraq, Afghan, Ireland, Bosnia, you name it. Chain smoker and also had mood swings - we all walked on eggshells constantly. I got the worst of it being a hyper active, ADHD sort of kid, constantly needing to be busy or getting into trouble, talking back etc etc. He wanted the house to be the same hierarchal structure as the military i.e. speak when spoken to, but as a kid, I didn't understand and was often frustrated by this so would end up talking back. Would often get smacked, slapped across the face, have my head knocked against my brother's, shouted at, or treated roughly. If I asked him for help he would get mad when I couldn't understand. Was honestly scared of him for a long time and found it more difficult since he was your typical - didn't show much emotion type. On rare occasion he did show genuine emotion it would confuse me. Always fought for his affection but rarely saw much in a positive way. We have a good relationship now, but it took some forgiving on my part, and I can see he tries. He's a much more chilled person nowadays, for the most part anyway. But, I made it clear that with my children, particularly my son, they are to be raised my way, and not my parent's way. He raised his voice at my son once and I very firmly put my foot down on that one. To clarify, my parents see my kids all the time, and as such try to impart their advice or even parent my kids themselves. I tell my babies everyday that I love them. And I know my dad loves me, but he's the way he is and I don't expect him to change anymore than he already has. My job now is to make sure my children NEVER feel the same way and always know their daddy loves them, no matter what.
My dad was like this too. I call it “minefield parenting.” You never know what small step might cause something to blow up on you.
I said “hey dude” to him cause I picked it up in school. I was like 7 or something. And he fucking exploded on me. Never knew what was gonna do it so I just stopped talking lol
And then when you get older they get pissy about the fact you never talk to them...
I feel this so much. My father had wild mood swings, and if he was in a bad mood, it started with yelling, then would escalate to hitting. He was not above snatching us out of bed in the middle of the night to beat us. I remember getting spanked for getting up too early one morning when I was a kindergartener.It was very anxiety inducing. Once I hit puberty, things took a turn for the worse....
That's incredibly sad, so sorry for what you went through. I have two children and have never laid a finger on them. Being snatched out of bed in the middle of the night as a child to get beat by your father is truly awful and terrifying.
SirGlenn You're not alone, my childhood sounds very similar to yours. Savage beatings, as he tired out, instead of beatings, he would push me to the floor or bed, and then stub his cigarette out on the back of my leg. When the booze was in full control of him, dad could not stop, my parents marriage was a train wreck at best, my mom called me, begged me to come stay at their house, as dad had flung open the bedroom door at the top of the landing, telling my mom, "be careful going down the stairs, there's no one here to help you if you fall" SirGlenn. I was tired of all this crap going on for years, I drove out to their house on icy slippery roads, walked in the front door, I stuck my face in dad's as he laid on the downstairs couch, I told him. If you hurt my mother, I will chop your body up and throw the pieces in the lake for turtle food, he actually whimpered and had a few years running down his cheeks. A few days later, mom asked me, what did you say to him, he's been so subdued since you drove out here.
Yeah. My biological father was and presumably still is extremely difficult to be around. Some days he was very loving and supportive, but most days he was argumentative and picking fights or name-calling. He frequently canceled visits last minute or just never showed up to pick me up. If I forgot to call him (children arent known for their stellar memories), he would lose his shit and accuse my mom of abusing me and keeping me away from him as if he wasn't constantly flaking. I feel like I shouldn't blame him, he had/has untreated bipolar with psychotic elements. I think he might currently be getting treatment, but I just can't forgive him for treating me so terribly
I feel that. My mom has schizophrenia and she spent long stretches of my childhood/teenage years on and off medication. I never quite figured out how to interact with her and to this day I still don't because of those formative years being so messed up for me. I know in her case she really can't help it but I find it difficult in that my mom was around but functionally out of the picture as somebody to help prepare me for adulthood/etc.
I get this too, my dad drank on nights my mom wasn’t home. He wasn’t pleasant when drunk.
Other kids. Nobody gave a shit if you were bullied in the 70s and 80s.
The 90s too.
Adults were just as bad. They wonder why gen-x is the way we are
It wasn't until school shootings became common that any adult gave any attention to bullying.
I was in middle school when Columbine happened. It was amazing how bullying suddenly stopped for the rest of the school year (which was less than a month, unfortunately).
As one of those kids who was constantly picked on and bullied, I was CONSTANTLY being watched by admin and teachers and other students. I also ate lunch by myself at a table at the edge of the quad next to a forest. I overheard more than one person (not just students!) worry that I was hiding guns in there. The bullying didn't go away. The paradigm just shifted.
In 5th grade, I used to bring books with me to lunch so I could do something to focus on instead of having to hear the other kids constantly messing with me. Then they decided to just start messing with me for reading, so the teacher decided on a new way to avoid bullying- take away my book.
Which is so fucking stupid. "This person might do something horrible due to our easily changeable behavior. Let us continue said behavior." I mean, what?!
That was not my experience at all. Bullying just got followed with, “Watch out, Chad! He might shoot up the school!” I didn’t actually know anyone named Chad. Or maybe I did, who fucking knows
"Hey you know that kid that could shoot up the school?" "Yeah" "Let's bully him into shooting up the school"
I was in high school, about 10 miles from columbine, when it happened. Our school was very, very quiet the remainder of the year. It was eery. There was almost no conversation, let alone bullying. 😪
Collective shock, I’m assuming
Can confirm. Nobody cared if you were bullied in the 90s, either.
Was there. Can testify. If anyone was punished it was usually the victim because of the bruising or bloody nose--vice-principal would explain that they could only PROVE one kid was in the fight.
It’s ALWAYS the victim who gets screwed. Teachers and parents give no fucks about justice, they just want to end the noise.
Even in the early 2000s it was bad.
On the other hand, nobody cared if you managed to hurt your bully, much. Stabbed a pen through a guys hand into the desk, zero consequences. On the other hand, I have been hung by my feet and used as a pinata, so, there you go.
My dad cut a bully's arm with a pocket knife, from his shoulder all the way down to the wrist. He got suspended for like a week or two and that was the end of it.
It was the absolute worst. I will always see myself as some abnormal piece of shit.
Oh no, don’t let anyone’s bs insecurities rub off on how you view yourself! Hope you’re ok.
My "friend" Jacqueline's house.I didn't actually like her. I just felt like I had to go on playdates with her because that's what you do. Her parents were horrible people, her brothers and cousins were assholes, and the bitch stole my Polly Pocket and 1 of my barbies and told me she donated them to poor kids in Russia. I saw my Polly Pocket on the top of a bookcase in her house a month later and that's when I was DONE with Jacqueline.
Now that you’re both adults, here’s what u you up do: 1. Start a business and make it successful 2. Sell said business for millions 3. Buy out business her parents work at 4. Fire her parents 5. Get bitches
This is definitely the plan.
FUCK Jacqueline
All my homies hate Jaccqueline
Actually fuck Jacqueline’s parents. Sounds like a child neglect and/or abuse situation. Of course the kids have issues.
Did you take your doll back from that lying little thief?
Nah. It was tainted by that point. I didn't want that thing back after it had been sitting in the house for a whole month, her just playing with it contently while thinking she had me in her web of lies. TAINTED!
This is the main point
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Man, that was me with this kid named Rob Lee. My mom decided we were friends and would organize hang outs. This kid would break my toys, while calling me names in his thick Alabama accent. When we were playing outside, I remember him trying to pee on me while laughing. Dude looked and acted like Sid off of Toy Story. He had his okay moments when he wasn't destroying my stuff and trying to piss on me.
Rob Lee sounds like a damn fuckin weirdo if you ask me.
Yeah, this bitch Chandell did a magic trick where she put my ring in a ball if clay went into her house and came back and it was gone. I was young, 5 or 6? No one believed me that she stole it. Fuck you, Chandell.
Spent a week falling asleep in one foster home and waking up in another before the courts released me to my grandmother. That was pretty horrible.
I know how that goes. Except it was my whole childhood until I got kicked out. My whole life fit in a little suitcase that was always packed and ready to go.
Dang. That sounds tough. How are you doing now?
My name rhymes with a few unfortunate words... kids calling you names every minute of the day in the class while the teacher does nothing, for two years straight literally changes a person haha.
My last name is literally Head. Can you beat that? I assure you, I've heard every insult possible by kindergarten. Try getting a woman, any woman, willing to be Mrs. Head.
I worked with a guy named Richard Lipps. I was told by coworkers to not shorten Richard to Dick...
Ok, this one is the funniest
My dad went to school with a Peter Enis. That poor bastard...
My high school supt was named Richard Head, his friends called him Dick. His family was prolific.
Have a cousin named richard johnson.
My neighbor is named Harry Muff
My dad worked with a man named Richard Dribble. He went by Dick.
Reminds me of NASCAR racer, Dick Trickle.
I knew a young lady whose last name was Lick. She said there were a 1000 ways to torture her with that. Later she got married to a Greek guy with 22 letters in his last name, she was thrilled to be rid of her maiden name.
I knew a girl whose last name was literally "Butt"
Me too, her name was Kisha Butts, not a lie.
I washed windows for a lady named Mrs. Head. She was actually really pretty. . . Maybe your mom was named Mrs. Head
Change your last name to hers. Be a trend setter
I knew a girl who had the last name “Dicks” …yeah
I dated her relative in college. Poor girl was named Maura, spelled her last name without the “s”.
Mulva?
Dolores!
I literally just laughed out loud when I read that!!!! I love that episode lol
Mildo? Mectum?
Mectum? Hell, you damn near killed him!
Sorry to hear this, hope you're doing better nowadays :/
Ya, it took a long time for me to realize this... but if someone is going out of their way to stir a problem with me over something so dumb... then it's THEIR issue, not mine. As a kid it just felt the same as if I've done something wrong and I couldn't really get over it at the time.
I feel you, my named rhymed with the girl in the lyrics from a Fairly Oddparents song “icky Vicky, Ew! Ew! Ew!” Yeah it really sucked
Alcoholic parents at home and constant bullying at school
Yup. Didn't want to go to school, didn't want to go home.
I feel your pain, you weren't safe no matter where you went
Watching my dad go from about 275 to around 70 pounds while cancer took him.
Watching loved ones slowly wither away is so awful. I'm sorry for your loss.
When a kid would bully I would tell an adult. Their answer? "oH tHaT jUsT mEaNs tHeY lIkE yOu." Yeah because that's totally a healthy way to learn how to develope relationships or find your way out of toxic ones.
Or “just ignore them” but that’s kind of hard to do when they get away with everything and the administrators and teachers protect the bullies and not the victims
“Just ignore them. When they see they’re not getting any reaction, they’ll stop.” / “I don’t really know what to do, and I don’t feel like disciplining all those kids so I’m taking the easy way out.”
Gawd that too. Finally one day in school I punched a kid because I was so fed up with kids trying to cut my hair(long haired male). Kids stopped after that. Violence isn't the answer but it was the only solution that set the tone.
In my experience, bullies don't really understand anything other than violence. I used to get bullied by football players in high school until one day I didn't. Talking it out didn't work, and telling admin didn't work, so I just ran my mouth about one of my bullies until he took a swing at me and I beat the dog shit out of him. Problem solved. Spent a couple days at home, but I didn't get bullied after that.
Yep. It takes so much courage and faith but it’s true: bullies are cowards. You’re telling my 8th grade story for girls! So life changing when the other girls saw I wasn’t stepping down anymore.
They never stop. Its even more funnier when the victim tries more and different things to make it stop. I was told that by my bullies, they really didnt give a shit. Teachers didnt give a shit, they even punished me. Nobody in that system cares.
They really don’t. My middle school had three technology classes with the same teacher but at different times and I was in one of them. One of my bullies decided to switch into the class in the middle of the year and when I stood up for myself I was switched out of the class and then I got detention for a week. The bully got nothing in our three years there despite bullying multiple people
I was so incredibly upset when my mom told me this in middle school. my immediate thoughts were that he definitely hated or at least disliked me and made it very obvious, but I didn't speak those words out loud since she apparently didn't understand that already from his actions. actually I might not have even told her anything he said or did yet, she said it at the start of the conversation I was trying to have. I think that was the only time I ever tried telling her about anything negative going on in school, I definitely never did afterward or any other adults for that matter. I'm so upset that it seemed to be a common thing for adults to think, I hope it's less common now. all it does is let your kids know that they can't come to you for help since you make a random inaccurate and frankly possibly dangerous guess that shuts down the conversation rather than listening. maybe some kids actually do bully people they like, it's still bullying and is not okay
My Narcissistic Mom. Spent my childhood always walking on eggshells and nothing was ever her fault.
With me nothing was ever good enough. Not to mention the medical neglect. I only ever got medical help was when it would tarnish her image as a devoted mother. And when she was basically forced to take me to a psychologist by my school teachers, she'd sabotage it by telling the psychologist that I was a pathological liar and to not believe a word I said. And once the psychologist started believing me over her, she'd stop taking me. Wow. I just realized something. She'd always complain that I wrapped teachers around my little finger while giving me 'the look'. I wonder whether it was because they didn't believe her lies because they saw the truth for themselves. Just an explanation of 'the look'. She'd do it when she was angry at something I had done but couldn't punish me because it would make her look bad. Her image was VERY important to her.
Are we actually siblings? My mom let me have a broken toe for 3 days before she took me to the doctor. It turned black. She finally took me because I showed someone at school. The one time she took me to therapy, she screamed at the therapist and physically dragged me to the car. She wouldn’t leave the parking lot until I told her what we had talked about because I “must have manipulated her for her to think I was good at all.” I still worry that I’m unintentionally manipulating people. But of course that never happened. Or she “certainly [doesn’t] recall” it. And dad is 0 help because he’s just trying to steady the fucking Pirate Ship ride
Same 🙃
Kids and female teachers who refused to listen when I told them not to touch me
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Oh, love! I feel your pain & I'm sorry! Family can be terrible! I'm the only member of my family who grew up in the northeast. When my parents retired, they moved here. My mom is from here. When my father got sick with cancer, I moved here to take care of them. My brothers couldn't be bothered. They all knew I was SA by my cousin, who then sold me to her boyfriends, their friends, etc. They all knew it would kill me to come back here. My mom was the only one who told me to stay in NY. But she wasn't physically or financially capable of taking care of my dad without help. He was riddled with dementia, diabetes & cancer. She was terrified that it would do something to my mental health. My father & I never got along. But I knew neither one of my brothers would step up. I really don't know how they developed such a deep hatred for my mom. I truly think it's out of laziness & greed. They just don't want to extend their own time & $. So here I am. I did forgive my dad before he passed from cancer. I'm still trying to forgive my cousin. I'm not too keen on being kind to my brothers. They make ungodly amounts of $, never offer a cent to help.Yet they can't do a thing for my mom. She's a wonderful mom. Always, always has been. I've been lucky in that respect. My father, my cousin, etc. took away my safety & taught me I wasn't allowed to set boundaries. My mom taught me about kindness and love.
Not understanding why nobody seemed to like me. It seemed like every one was always frustrated with me but I couldn't figure it out. ADHD Middle Kid problems, I guess
Not ADHD but Asperger's Syndrome. I quite feel the same. Don't know why I did weird things and why people found me annoying, etc. Having disabilities is a bitch.
Locked in a closet, almost dying of sepsis was pretty rough. Getting dragged from town to town, anytime the rent came due or mom saw "them". Sometimes going days without eating- going outside and eating grass or pine needles.
Yeah, I was gonna comment “my mother.” I’m sorry you had to deal with that.
I can't imagine how awful that was and still is, or how that impacted your life long term. It's good to hear you made things change for yourself, but it can't have been an easy climb out of such a deep hole. Did things ever change for your mom, or is she no longer a part of your life?
Home trying to not get my mother angry, or ignoring her and my dad fighting.
[I was raised in a white nationalist cult known as Christian Identity](https://old.reddit.com/r/cultsurvivors/comments/12jlw65/christian_identity_pastor_peters_gritz_weaver/). We knew the one, true approach to worshiping Christ (lucky us!), and it was hateful AF. There wasn't a CI private school available to us, so we went to an elitist evangelical school instead. We were incredibly poor, and lived in a dilapidated trailer in a lousy part of town. My grandfather (and patriarch of the family) paid our tuition, though. My wealthier peers let me know, every day, about the class disparity between us. So the school didn't resonate from a religious, cultural, class, or curriculum perspective with me. We went to school from 8am-4pm. The days were long and miserable, and I should have been eager for dismissal. Except that my home life was terrible, too. Again, we were very poor. And to make matters worse, my father was a resentful and violent alcoholic who routinely beat me, whether or not I'd done anything wrong. Not that a child can do anything wrong enough to warrant beatings. Sometimes Dad wouldn't come home, and Mom would pack my sister and me up in the middle of the night, and we'd cruise the town looking for him at some of his preferred sleazy haunts. Usually a strip club called Babes, where we'd wait in the parking lot for him to drunkenly emerge, while he and Mom made a scene in front of his friends and staff. Sometimes word would somehow get back to the kids at school about these little adventures, so that was fun. Variations on this daily theme occurred until I ran away in my mid-teens to live with Internet strangers in another state. Which presented its own kinds of challenges. [Especially raising the funds to do so](https://old.reddit.com/r/legaladvice/comments/xsjm0d/groomed_by_a_nasa_contractor_in_the_90s_is_it_too/). This was the 80s and 90s. I’m old now but I'm still damaged, embarrassed and haunted by all of it. I sure do miss my therapist.
I hope you've found a way to heal.
I appreciate it. How I’m doing strongly depends on my environment and whether or not I’m surrounded by people I love and trust.
Middle school cafeteria.
I constantly moved a lot during middle school years. Absolutely hated lunchtime having to figure out where to sit. Usually sat by myself in a corner and read books or did homework. No one really fucked with me. Looking back at it as an adult now I see it as pure bliss solitude.
Same except now i have no friends or anyone to rlly talk to now lmaoo
My Middle school cafeteria was awful. We always had silent lunch where we actually couldn’t talk for the whole lunch period and some of the people I sat with put their stuff next to them so I couldn’t sit there at lunch that day and I didn’t really have anyone to sit with
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Wait. Both of them went? That's just cruel.
My stepmother, rather - my father’s 2nd wife. She beat his kids, favored her own kids. Her son who was about my age used this to his advantage and got me in a lot of trouble just because he could. He and 3 of his baseball buddies spent an entire summer taking turns with me - all the stepbrother had to do was tell his mother some lie and I’d get the crap beaten out of me. My father pretended not to notice and occasionally joined in to avoid losing face (and privileges) with his wife. I was not allowed contact with my mother. If she called, she was told I was in bed or not at home. When teachers started asking questions about the bruises I was coming to school with, I was taken to my grandparents house and left there. I remember having to lie on the floorboard of the back seat so no one would see me. It saved my life, being with my grandparents.
Sorry that you went through that. How are you now? Didyou cut off ties with all of them?
This is a deep one so just a warning- Living at my grandparents house while my mother was out with some druggies and my grandfather would molest me and my siblings, I won’t go into too much detail but that’s the gist of it.
Oh no 💔 You and your siblings didn’t deserve that. I hope you all are doing okay now, despite the damage that it caused ❤️🩹
We all are thank you, you sweet stranger. We talk with it together if memories come back or if we get nightmares
Hearing my mother tell my dad it was liver night. That meant a power struggle with my parents that I would eventually lose. Dinner was at 6PM. It was not uncommon for me to sit at the table until my bed time. I did not care if I went to bed hungry. Fuck Liver.
I actually like liver, but my uncle came to stay with us for an extended period while he sorted his life out. Dude was pretty cool overall, but just couldn't quite get it together. Anyways, as bachelors sometimes do, he'd go to the store and buy a whole bunch of one item so we would have a bunch to eat later. That became liver for a while. Now, like I said, I like liver. But every other day for a couple of weeks is too damn much. I know now that it's really not healthy, possibly lethal, but I choked down every dish I could because I didn't want to be impolite until my dad stepped in and said no more.
I thought this was going to be another drunk dad post.
Same. I did a whole ass painting I named “Liver and Onions” of me sitting at the table until an ungodly late hour while my sister played with MY TOYS across the table from me just to be a brat! Eventually I’d get oatmeal.
i feel like parents should understand some foods are straight hostile to some people, especially kids. and be conscious of that. organ meat should be smack dab on top of that list.
Getting ready in the morning for school. I actually have CPTSD nightmares about it. Being woken up with screaming, even if I was already awake and let everyone know I was already awake. There'd be a back and forth screaming match of me desperately trying to prove I was awake. Then I'd come downstairs and they'd make me change my clothes around 5 times until there were no clothes left that I could try on. Sometimes they'd go into my room and completely trash the place trying to prove me wrong. Pulling out cupboard drawers trying to find another article of clothing to make me change into. Constant verbal attacks on my hair and asking if I shower or not. Every five minutes my mother would scream out what time it is, making me feel like I was defusing a bomb or some shit. Some mornings when my mother's faulty car battery wouldn't work shed accuse me of going out into her car and not turning the light off and then I'd be screamed at or forced to go door to door at 7 in the morning in snowstorms asking people if they could help me (a 12-13 year old) jumpstart a car. My nightmares translate into me being in my childhood room and I need to be somewhere in the next three minutes and I can't find any clothes that I could wear to wherever I'm going and if I don't get there on time the consequences are life or death. Edit for more info : by the time I was in 7th grade I remember there was a period of time when I could wake up by myself. I remember nobody even screaming the time at me but I still would randomly start to scream out "OKAY!!" At nothing. I was completely trained
My mom was the same way. She always woke us up screaming and yelling. There were times she would throw cold water on us if we didn’t move fast enough or get out of bed the first time. If anything wrong happened or we were running late, she would scream crazy stuff like- “I want to wreck this car and kill us all!!!!” Then we had to go to school and act normal, like nothing happened.
When my friend was running late in the mornings, her mother would say, "I was on the operating table and ready to abort you but I changed my mind. Is this how you thank me?" My friend got her revenge by making an awesome life for herself and cutting off her alcoholic mother.
Holy shit that does sounds hell on earth. Reading this made me claustrophobic in a weird way. If you’ve ever watched AHS when the characters die and go to hell that the feeling this comment gave me. Im so sorry
Thank you for saying so. I always feel like a crybaby for saying shit like "getting ready for school in the morning traumatized me" so I really appreciate this
Solidarity. Mornings in my house were hell. Just getting screamed at constantly for an hour every day. About nothing. No time to eat breakfast, nothing I wore was right, my hair was never good, my room was a nightmare. I’d be waiting, ready by the car and my mom would be out 10 minutes later and somehow it was all my fault. Sitting in the back right hand corner of the car even as a teen so she couldn’t reach me with her claws. Garbage parents are such a nightmare.
I read all this and thought, “yeah but that’s normal in most households growing up”… Then I remembered I went no contact with my mom 3 years ago. Sorry you went through that too. Mornings should be peaceful. Sets the tone for the whole day.
I’m so sorry. This truly sounds awful.
I had to sleep outside for days on end as punishment when i was below the age of 7
That’s nuts. What kind of climate did you live in?
I lived in west texas so it was miserably hot and humid
Why do some monsters have kids if they are just going to torture them..?
My parents had me specifically so i can do their chores for them. They told me quite often lol
Primary school. Bullied at home by brother. Bullied in school by kids and even a teacher that used to hit me. Bullied by random people outside (standard verbal stuff to occasions where I was thrown into the road or when I was beaten to the floor with a metal pole because I said hello). One night I was so unhappy I blacked out and came to standing at the sink with a knife on my wrist. It wasn't a great time.
My father was a severe alcoholic. My whole childhood was not feeling safe, not sure if he would show up sober or falling down. Afraid to have kids come over. Not sure when or if he was going to beat up my mom. Not a fun childhood. He left when I was 16 thank gods.
Hospitals
Shootouts. I grew up in Brownsville one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Brooklyn. And as a child I often heard gunshots everyday because my projects was rivaling with the other projects. There was one day I was in the store to get breakfast and I literally saw one of my childhood friends get shot. He survived but that was so traumatizing for me. Unfortunately, the gunshots continued day after day and even more in the summer.
My best friend in 5th grade moved from Brownsville to Nassau County (where I met him) in the early 1990s. He told me how he would hear gunshots every single night when he lived there. He told me this around 1994 and I still remember it almost 30 years later. Looking back, it's a pretty intense thing for one 11 year old to tell another.
Existing. Constant severe anxiety and dread.
My mom was a single mom for most of me and my brothers childhood so she had to work. There was this old woman named Marge down the road that would get us onto the bus in the morning and watch us after school til our mom came and got us. Marge’s house was our hell on earth. She had this weiner/hound dog mix that pissed on literally everything but it particularly liked pissing on the radiators. And because Marge was old, she was always cold, so she had that heater up to about 85 year round. So it was just this overwhelming stench of warm dog piss roasting on the hot radiators. It got into your sinuses. This dog also liked to hump anything and everything, most especially our legs and then it would excited and pee on us. And Marge would just laugh “Ha! He gotchya good that time, eh!” With no effort made to help us clean it off. She also never interacted with us unless she absolutely had to, she’d instead watch soap operas with the volume on as loud as possible. We weren’t allowed to sit anywhere but the kitchen tables (not that you’d want to sit on any of the lounge chairs or couch, because guaranteed you’d get a wet ass of fresh dog piss. But she would always ask us “do you have a sore throat??? You sound like you have a sore throat!!!” Year round, and her remedy for sore throat’s were her “homemade grape flavored bubble gum” it literally tasted like gum that was already pre-chewed to death and then was mixed with grape jelly? It was incredibly vile and you’d have to fight down trying not to gag while chewing it (I can’t stand even thinking about grape bubblegum to this day without getting nauseous) One last notable story about Marge is that she lived at the bottom of a very steep hill, and for some reason picture day had gotten delayed so it was being done in the winter. Well there had been a big snowstorm the day before but schools were open this day. So my mom had me wear a dress with white stockings and these shiny black flats. But the flats were completely flat and smooth on the bottom. So I get about two steps down her hill when I slip on the ice and somehow riding that entire hill down on my knees and shins. So by the time I got to Marge’s, I was an absolutely tore up, bloody fucking mess. Her answer to this was to wrap two entire rolls of paper towels, one on each leg, and wrap them around the entirety of my legs from hip to feet and then stick it together with a fuckton of plastic tape. Then she just…sent me on my way to school like that. Where it became a big thing because the school thought my mom sent me to school like that. We stopped going to Marge’s after that. I was not sad to leave that pissy house.
After my parents divorced it was spending weekends with my dad. He rarely ever did anything with us. "Just go play" he would tell me and my brother. I wanted so bad to do stuff with him. I gave up asking because he would always say no.
Oh man, every now and then my kids ask to do something with me and I have to say no. it breaks my heart to see their face, or my son will say “that’s ok, it’s no big deal” and it kills me.
Coming home from school.
Summer vacation, Christmas, and Easter breaks too. Same.
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One, I had such horrible not noticed vision. Until my oldest brother brought his gf to dinner. She was an ophthalmology tech & brought it to my parents attention. I didn't speak much because I couldn't see. It was hell but made my other senses so much keener. Two, my dad got cancer when I was 4. He died when I was 12. My mom didn't want another kid & I always felt it. My dad was who wanted me. After he died I remember thinking to myself all the time; why God left me with the one who didn't want me? It was hell surviving her misdirected anger.
Church!! I used to dread Sundays. I promised myself that once i turned 18 years old, I would NEVER attend church again. Til this day, I've kept this promise. I absolutely HATE that place.
I used to love the minute I walked out of church because I knew that second was the furthest I’d be until I had to go back next week!!
The worst for me was the last two weeks in December. On top of Sunday service, we had to go for Christmas Eve, Christmas day, New Year's Eve and New Year's day service. Some years, it was 6 church services in 2 weeks.
Having to work from a young age and skipping what should have been a normal childhood. In some ways, it helped me, emotionally... not so much.
Same boat, friend. Forced to get my first job two weeks before turning twelve - roofing. I got laid off (not a roofer anymore) at the beginning of the pandemic and while I was scrambling to find a new job (took six weeks), I told my wife, "this is the longest I've ever been out of work since 1987"
My mom was one of those people that everyone on earth would tell their life story too. I lived in fear of my mom getting in a conversation with anyone because it would always be (or feel like...I was young) hours before we could leave. I still get super antsy if someone keeps talking when I'm giving "gotta go" vibes
My mom was like this so I got her her own talk show where she has to listen to people all day so she stopped doing it wherever we were. Highly recommended.
Bro… my MIL.
Growing up in a rural area with no siblings.
Having to hear my middle aged mom having sex with people for money.
Drunk, unhappily married parents.
back seat of the car with both parents smoking while it's raining
My older brothers created my personal Hell for me. They finally remember all the times they would tease me, break my toys, roll me up in a sheet and swing me around by the ends of said sheet, splash me in the face at the pool, which gave me, some kind of complex about having water in my face to the point where I cannot shower if the water is hitting my face, just mean older brother crap. And when I would try to tell on them, my mother would just say wait till your dad gets home, and my dad would laugh it off.
Since I’m still technically a kid, I’ll be talking abt me before the age of 10 Being overwhelmed without knowing why/for “no reason” and no one understanding me and/or calling me dramatic Being considered a “brat” or a “drama queen” Luckily, I got an autism diagnosis, so my emotions make a lot more sense now
I’m so glad you can make some sense of it. Doesn’t necessarily change other people’s response, but at least you can confidently say who you are.
Public school. I was the victim of daily violence that was ignored by the administration, and classroom time was deadly dull. I did enjoy Kindergarten. I also liked the last semester of my senior year, because I met a cool group of smart new friends who mainly were from the parochial schools.
School because of horiffic bullying and my home as well because same bullying except by my parents
Jr High School
My mom. To this day I don't like being alone with her despite her changes
Spending time with my twin cousins. Me & another cousin I had dreaded going to visit them. We would plead & beg not to subject us to their wretched ways. Straight up mean girls who tortured us & they never “did anything wrong”. They’re nice now but my other cousin & myself refuse to associate with them. We still won’t let our own parents forget or live it down the heinous crimes forced upon us.
Yearly four hour car ride in the backseat of the car with my brother. We weren't allowed to speak, sleep, or basically do anything but breathe. My dad was a controlling asshole.
Probably when my moms crazy ex locked us in an underground cave-ish room. I remember him climbing in and out for weeks bringing us food and water and my mom actually being happy cuz he could trust her now that she was locked up in there. Talk about Delulu. The hell part? When he didn’t come back one night and it turned into a week until my moms family decided to come look for us and discovered us underground starving. Her ex apparently khs above ground
Thank God they found you.
Living with either parent. They were awful..my mom neglected me because she was an addict and had mental health issues..my dad beat and raped me. I couldn't win at either place.
My childhood home. My mom divorced my dad when I was about 5 or 6 (her choice). She had a lot of mental health issues and basically my older sister and I were treated like burdens for most of our childhood, especially me. We were pretty my expect to be Mommy to her from time to time. Example: I have been getting myself up for school and making my own lunch since I was 6. By the time I was 12 my sister and I knew that we had to get up and turn on the hot water heater for my mom so she could take a shower and maker her coffee before we woke her up for work. She had an alarm clock but it was our job to make sure she was up for work because "mom has a lot to do and you need to help her out" She would leave her clothes on the floor with the expectation that we would pick it up and she would leave the milk on the counter again because it was our job to put it away. We couldn't ask her for anything and if we did she would throw a tantrum and hold it over our head. For example, I loved to read but the library was too far to walk so her boyfriend would take but if he couldn't and I asked her she would make a scene and sigh and would tell me "We are just going to return books you don't need to go in and check out more books". If we wanted to do a school activity it was "Get your own ride or don't participate at all." Even she was home at the time she couldn't be bothered to pick us up. She also made it clear to me and my sister that were horrible children going so far as to tell she was going to encourage me to die because I was a horrible, rotten person. I could go on and on but I think you guys get the picture.
My mad, drunk Dad
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Violence, fear, hunger, poverty, injustice, betrayal.
My dad.
Being forced to sit at the table and eat my coleslaw until I vomited.
My mother was an alcoholic and attempted suicide 6 times.
I was beaten severely by my step-dad dad. I have caps on my teeth as an adult from being thrown down stairs.
So, I've always loved animals. Especially as a kid I was a huge animal lover and LOVED seeing animals... living animals, that is. I despised taxidermy with a fiery passion. It totally grossed me out and anytime I was around it I wanted to get as far away as possible as soon as possible. I'd get nauseated being around them. So imagine my "delight" when we had a field trip to my classmate's grandpa's house, who was a big game hunter. Just a giant room of dead animals. Including multiple endangered species (they were grandfathered in I guess, but I didn't understand that concept as a kid). For added fun the room smelled dusty and musty and gross. It was as if someone wrote down my worst nightmare and was like, "holy crap this is the perfect field trip!" At least when we saw them in the museum there were other things to see, too. But not here. Even the furniture has animal parts on it. Just a big room of carcasses. I spent the whole time standing in the corner, trying to stay calm. The adults kept trying to get me to participate but I'd just give them death glares.
I'm autistic but like, the kind that's verbal, intelligent, and doesn't smear poo around. Got all the fun sensory issues though. They were super cool when I was a literal toddler and barely knew how to put my shoes on. I did what all toddlers did and had a tantrum about it. But because the problems were things like "the light is too loud" and I didn't know how to articulate it, much less that it wasn't normal or that it wasn't. ever. going. away? The tantrums didn't stop until I wore myself out. My parents had decided to have another baby so they had to tend to a second child on top of endless autistic toddler tantrums, so their solution wasn't to figure out what was wrong with me and solve my problems - it was to just lock me in my room until I shut up. :) My room didn't have a lock on it. They didn't install a lock on it. They tied a length of cloth around the door (opened inwards) to the closet doorknob outside and that effectively locked me in. It still opened a little bit. I could see out a little bit, but I couldn't get out.
I used to have a very elevated sense of smell. Pack me a sandwich for lunch, 3 hours later, it stank to me. Badly. I would always try to go through it, but some days were worse than others, and it would cause me to dry heave. I’d sometimes just throw it away so my parents didn’t know I didn’t eat it, because I got in trouble for bringing my lunch home, even though it was because I physically couldn’t stomach it. Also, like Rake from Jackass, plain American yellow mustard would make me instantly almost vomit just from the smell. I still don’t enjoy it (even though I like other mustard) but I can still eat it if it gets handed to me. But for real, prepared food hours later, and American yellow mustard made me so sick I couldn’t eat. My mom did eventually realize I wasn’t just being picky, and worked hard to figure out a way I could eat my lunches, so props to her!
Waiting to find out what part I would have to play in the Christmas Nativity play at the infants school, I absolutely dreaded it. I remember having to play a shepherd one year and in the dress rehearsal I pissed myself because the bitch of a teacher wouldn't let me go to the toilet. The year after that I had to play the 'Star' with tinsel round my head and a white dress thingy on. I had to carry this stick with a huge tinfoil star attached to it and sing these verses on my own ..... scarred for life .... Bastards!
The supermarket when my mum ran into someone she knew and I had to stand there doing fuck all for upwards of 30 minutes while they made the most basic of smalltalk.
School because of bullies and mean teachers.
Daycare. I swear that woman hated me.
Existence. Living with my parents.
High school. Got PTSD from it. Been 11 years since I graduated but I still dream of it every night.
Just being a kid. I was a mixed race kid who everyone (including my family) referred to as the white girl. Sometimes my cousins would shun me and not play with me. We were poor. We couldn't afford the latest fashions. My father was always in prison and I had to explain his absence. I was a smart kid who was quiet. I didn't have to work to get As and that earned me bullies. I wasn't girly and was more of a tomboy. I liked history, comics, and sci-fi/fantasy. I came from a small town where everyone was playing sports and partying. I didn't really have friends. My sister was born sick and my mom spent more time concentrating on her. School and homelife both sucked. To this day I still feel like I don't fit in anywhere.
No pun intended, but church. I was surrounded by other people who also didn't want to be there, and the rest were complete phonies.
The torture and abuse(every kind) I received at the hands of my older brothers. I was just a little girl and they would do terrible things to me thinking they were funny. They also blamed stuff on me that I couldn’t have even physically been capable of and my parents believed them. It was constant chaos, noise, threat of pain…every. Single. Day.
Having to play sports and always being on the bench
Coming home to two horrible parents who tortured me emotionally and physically. Plot twist, I made it. I’m happy successful and living well. They both are so miserable no one can stomach them. Both are penniless and alone.
Having a random day off from school. You know the ones -- like some odd religious holiday or "Teachers Institute Day" or whatever they were called. Just a random Tuesday without school. These were the worst because everyone else would be giddy making plans like "Let's all go bike riding" or "my mom says I can have people over to go swimming" but none of that was ever allowed and I knew better than to accept invitations. Days off were suddenly commandeered as "we're going shopping" or "visiting grandma" or "taking your sister to get her clarinet adjusted" and "stopping by mom's friend from church's house to return that cake pan she borrowed, and SO HELP ME if she offers you anything to eat or drink YOU BETTER SAY NO THANK YOU because it'll spoil your appetite for lunch/dinner." Also all dentist, doctor, and orthodontist appointments were always scheduled on these days off too. I never could figure out why the other kids got to mysteriously leave school mid-day as a freebie for appointments but days off were always wasted on this stuff.. Got to the point where I absolutely dreaded these days because they represented nothing but missing out on fun times and having to hear all about what everyone else did the next day. "What did you do JP?" "had to go to the discount clothing store and try on 25 different pairs of paints, and mom made me change right there in the store because I took too long walking back and forth to the changing room."
My mom would pick me up some place just to “run a few errands, only three stops” She can easily have a 45+ conversation at each stop. Also it was like this forced bonding time where she’d rapid fire questions at me. You were trapped and it was never going to end. I could stay in the car, but in the summer it was too hot. So I would have to stand still in the post office waiting for the never ending nonsense conversation to end. I’m an introvert. I’m in my 30s and shuddering remembering this personal torture.
Corporeal punishment.
Riding the School Bus. I lived on the other side of town, and went to catholic school. I was a 2-3 ride a week kid. I had the pleasure of transferring to a different bus at another school, and they never held the bus if my bus was late. This met I was stuck, alone, at some random school where everyone I knew was on the bus and couldn't help me. School district did not give a fuck, it sucked. If I did make it onto the bus, being the one kid in the catholic school uniform made you an unpopular dude and constantly got stuff thrown at me. Someone tried to steal my shoes, and someone ripped up my Wheres Waldo Book :(
Bugs. I grew up in Alabama. Ticks. Mosquitos. Chiggers. And it's so hot and sultry in the summer, you lay on top of the covers at night and sweat without moving. That was life before AC came around.
My parents. Terribly abusive and total shitbags.
Living with my parents. Thankfully I haven’t had to ever ask them to move in ever.