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How have you risen above your lousy childhood?


cindy0039

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I decided to start this thread as a result of a discussion that started in another thread. I'm wondering how many people had what they would describe as really lousy childhoods...maybe including one or more of the following: sexual, physical or mental abuse, alcoholism of a parent, drug abuse by a parent, mental instability of a parent, abandonment, poverty, or anything else you think makes for a bad childhood.

 

And then I'd like to hear how many of you think you've overcome your bad childhoods and what kind of life you have now, whether good or bad. If you think you've overcome your childhood and have a happy life now, how did you do it?

 

Do you have any mental conditions as a result? Have you been treated by psychiatrists/psychologists? Do you have drinking or drug problems?

 

Thanks in advance for your responses.

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Hi Cindy.

 

Your question is one I could spend a great deal of space answering but I'll give just the bare details,. My childhood was basically life in a house of horror My father was an absolute, terrorizing, maniacal, alcoholic who came home from the war and never worked afterwards. He was also addicted to barbituates. He sexually abused all of my sisters and physically abused me on a fairly regular basis. I went to school tired, hungry and with black eyes, bruises, and even bite marks on my face from him.

 

Because of his drinking we were terribly poor and many times had to go begging at churches for food, clothing and furniture. He liked to move a lot too so we crisscrossed Canada from east to west several times by the time I was 13 years old. I've gone to about 30 different schools.My mother cleaned houses for money and she was basically passive and afraid of him so she never did anything to end the abusive life. He finally took me and my oldest sister and left her when I was 14. I missed my mother a lot and when I turned 15 I took off from him and hitchiked from Toronto to Montreal to go live with her.

 

Since my mother had no control over me I ran my own life from the time I started to live with her and did a lot of drinking, some drugs and a lot of partying, fighting and at times ending up in jail for overnight stays.

 

Now to the risen above part:

 

I worked at a variety of manual labor jobs until I was about 23 and then decided I wanted to go to university to become a teacher. I had to write entrance exams to get in to university. I wrote the exams, passed and graduated cum laude and then received a post-graduate diploma in education. Fast forward: I married, raised three beautiful, intelligent and most importantly, unabused children who I live for.

 

I stopped teaching long ago and moved on to higher administartion. My children ages range from 17 to 24 and we are all still very close. My wife and I aren't rich but we live well. I've spent over $100,000 for secondary private school fees and have taken my children on a variety of luxury vacations over the years.

 

While I always remained a good father and excelled at my work I continued to abuse alcohol throughout my life. My kids really never saw me drunk though as I had a high tolerance for alcohol. I never drank on the job. Just about no one who knew could believe it when I finally ended up in an alcohol treatment center.

 

I basically spun out of control the last two years before I quit drinking just over two years ago. What went on during those last two years is another story and a lurid one. By this time my kids were in their late teens. While my children were definately affected by seeing their father on a path of self-destruction I take some solace in knowing I always treated them well. I also feel guilty though for given them reason to feel such concern for my well-being.

 

So I know I have risen above my beginnings in the sense that I have a good family, a good education, and a good job. No one can escape the devastaing effects of a rotten childhood though and so I still live with a variety of inner problems, pain and bad memories that I'm only now starting to understand. The years of alcohol kept me from beginning to understand what was affecting me. You may recall too my post about recently stoping abusing codeine., so the path continues although I am seeing positivity along this path.

 

The way I look at the story of my life is this: I started at a certain strata of society and my job was to create a loving home for my children and a solid foundation for them to have a good life and to further rise above their links to my abusive and poverty-stricken beginnings. I've done my best for them. Now they are well-prepared to make their own adult lives better and to do their part in creating other loving and healthy and future generations.

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I don't have very many good memories from growing up. My mother was horribly abusive: physically, mentally, verbally, emotionally. When I think back to my childhood, overall, I immediately think of: tension, crying, being yelled at, being scared, feeling bad about myself, being horribly shy, feeling stupid, never feeling good enough, not much laughter, never knowing what would set her off.

 

She is obviously a different person now but I admit, I still have a lot of resentment toward her, even though in some ways I can understand why she was the way she was (she was raised by very stern parents who didn't show much affection). For many years, I wanted to tell her exactly what I thought of how she'd abused me.....how my childhood formed a foundation for what I later thought relationships were all about. For many years, I went from one chaotic abusive relationship to another..........to the point where I realized one day, when dating a non-abusive guy, that stupidly, if he didn't yell and scream at me, that maybe he didn't really love me.

 

I got into an argument with my mom a few years ago, I lived far away from family. I decided to sit down and write her and my Dad a letter.....and tell them exactly how I felt about how they treated me growing up........how it really scarred me. It didn't really do a lot of good.

 

To this day, my Mom isn't like the traditional Mom you can always confide in or come to for support, or when you've had a bad day. She is very negative and judgmental and she has a way of making me feel worse. If I am going through a tough time, I tend to withdraw from family because, unlike them, I see no point in PRETENDING to be happy about life and putting on a phony smile........I feel thatyou should be able to turn to your immediate family and tell them when you're unhappy or that your are sad about some things in your life.............if I finally do admit to her why I haven't been around much, she'll say something catty like "Well, we all have problems"......or "people out there have real problems"................she still puts me down a lot. I don't feel close to her at all. I have always envied friends whose mothers were kind and loving, and approachable....who would just give you a hug if you were feeling down or worried about something. My Mom is still very terse and sharp and insensitive.

 

I did counselling once, for my abusive marriage..and we began to delve into my childhood.....but at $65 an hour....and it was taking weeks to get anywhere, I just quit.

 

I have a lot of hurt inside me still, I'm becoming more aware of that as I get older. I am very hard on myself, and I can easily cry if I feel I've failed at something. Goes back, I'm sure, to being a kid and being told I was useless or didn't do something properly.

 

I don't use drugs, I barely drink. I've never seen a psychiatrist or psychologist.

 

However, I am more of a loner......I have a hard time trusting people. I am very hard on myself and still put myself down a lot.

 

I often feel this way, "I have so much to say, but nobody to listen." I feel that nobody on this earth, not even my mom or dad, really know me...know what matters to me, know what makes me happy, knows what's important to me, knows what upsets me.

 

Shortly after I left my abusive husband, my mom said to me, "It's no wonder he hit you, you're so stubborn." That clinched it for me.........that not only did she have no clue as to how her abuse toward me growing up deeply hurt me.....but that she also really felt, deep down, that I DESERVED to be abused. Of course I hung up on her, in shock, when she said this, and I ignored her calls for days, she did finally apologize, but I will never forget her saying that, I believe she really meant it. I believe her apology was given just because it was "the right thing to do."

 

My mom was out of control growing up, she likely should have never had kids. I don't think she was mentally ill......but she had a lot of rage, I think it was a lot of anger directed at my Dad because he worked out of town a lot (he was a good man), and she took it out on the "extensions of him"....my sister and I....mostly me, because I was older, and also because I very much resemble my Dad and am a lot like him. She was frequently threatening to kill herself, because "we were bad" (we were just normal little girls)......she would stomp down into the basement, in a fit of rage, and yell to us that she was going to load up a gun and shoot herself. She would often fly out the door saying she was going to get in her car, drive somewhere and drive off a cliff....leaving us (my little sister and I) to go out of our minds with worry and guilt. I would get the brunt of it because I was older. She would whip me with a skipping rope until I had welts all over my body. She would break wooden spoons over my head. I got my first "fat lip" from her (and I remember it vividly) when I was 5 years old. She would sometimes try to choke me. Even when I was a teenager, if I was out at the mall with her, doing the much dreaded "clothes buying for school", she would get into a mood and she would slap me across the face, in the middle of the store, all because I politely told her I wasn't crazy about some old lady outfit she'd picked out.

 

She was just cruel.

 

I feel I have a tendency to be depressed. I have periods where I'm very teary and down on life, and I keep more to myself. I withdraw from others. Of course I still go about my daily life and do what I have to do......but there are days I start to think about things and the tears don't stop and I could cry all day. course maybe some of that is PMS induced.

 

Any guy I get involved with, I am afraid to tell him what my childhood is like, particularly when he goes on about how great his parents are, and how great growing up was. I'm afraid if I tell him what I went through, he'll automatically assume I'm a nutcase who has tons of issues and baggage.

 

I am a lot stronger of a person, though.......and I no longer take crap from people....almost sometimes to the point where I can be a bit of an antagonist...I guess it's just some kind of conscious or subconscious delight in finally being able to "stand up for myself".......because I was bitterly passive and scared and shy as a child, even to my early 20s (I would let people, and men, walk all over me).

 

Boring stuff, hey?

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Originally posted by befuddled1

Boring stuff, hey?

 

Not boring at all. Interesting and insightful.

 

I do have one question though. Do you feel you have or have not risen above your childhood? Or are you kind of stuck in it?

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I really don't know. How DOES a person know if they've risen above their lousy childhood? I'm sincerely not sure how a person would be able to know or not. Any ideas?

 

I am thankful for what I have. I know there are people who had worse childhoods, unspeakable childhoods. I don't sit and regularly dwell on how things were, growing up....but I do feel a sense of disconnection, and when I hear people talking about how good it was growing up, I feel a sense of missing something, a void.

 

I had always vowed that one day I would have my own family.....and I would be sure not to ever repeat the mistakes my mother made (and still can't totally own up to), that I would treat my children with respect and dignity and value. Unfortunately, at 36, not being in a relationship at present (let alone marriage), a history of endometriosis, the chances of me having that family are slim to nil. The past few months I've been more aware of this fact and that in itself causes me to feel yet another void. But I guess everything happens for a reason.

 

I am aware, however, that I'm envious and jealous of how my parents are with my niece and nephew..how they dote on them and treat them royally. It makes me jealous and angry......makes me wonder why they couldn't have been that loving to me as a child. It makes me angry that they get "a second chance" to have children to love, if that makes any sense.

 

As children, my parents were very vocal in the belief of "children are to be seen and not heard" and they often reminded us of this, when we'd be off to visit people or family.......and I remember feeling very small and unimportant, because I loved to listen to the 'grown ups' discuss and debate, I listened intently, and sometimes I had questions or wanted to say something; to contribute, but I knew better than to open my mouth.

 

I think part of the reason that I am so longwinded and wordy, and always wanting to make sure I'm "understood" is because I feel so misunderstood and like nobody on this planet really knows me, least of all my immediate family.

 

I would say my childhood has had a deep impact on me, and I'm growing more aware of this as I grow older.......but I don't think it's "kept me down".......I plug along and do my best and try to remember there are people worse off than me and not have a pity party, although sometimes I feel extremely alone and lonely and that's when I think back to my childhood and wonder how a mother could have been so cruel.

 

I know my dysfunctional childhood laid the foundation for me going from one abusive relationship to another.......and as a result of the latter, I have come to the realization that I have some deep seated anger toward men in general...and that's something I have to work through. I can't help but feel that all men will cheat and no man will ever fight for me. Now that's a whole 'nother can of worms.

 

Sometimes I feel I am a broken person, broken from the inside......and I'm not sure what could fix that. I don't see counselling as the answer because I find that talking about all the sh*t just brings more of it back up, and I don't want to dwell on it. Sometimes I need to get it out, like writing it here, but I don't want to become someone who feels sorry for myself so I try to just buck up and leave it in the past.

 

So I don't know if I've risen above it or not. I'm not sure how to figure that out or not. What do you think, from reading what I've written? Does it seem obvious to you one way or another?

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VASH THE STAMPEDE

My childhood was horrible .

My mom married my dad when she was 21 my dad was 58.they had 3 kids together.he died when I was 6.My mom never worked she collected welfare.She was mentally sick and trying to raise 3 wild boys on her own.I was sexually active since 6,or at least I was experimenting with this girl ,she went and told my mom I got my a$$ beat really good that day.

My mom always had trouble with everything,so we ended moving from Aguadilla,PR to Philadelphia,PA ,I was 10.I knew no English and was thrown out in the school system to be ridiculed by fuc*ing kids and moved a grade back because I couldn't understand what the hell they were saying. We never really didn't had anything ,no cable,no food,no life,no car we always had to walk everywhere.,we moved again this time to Indiana,were I'm currently at.

We move with my half-sister, who is older than my mom(weird huh)

we live there a couple of months,I found out a great deal about my fathers family side like I'm part Italian we had a total of 13 brothers and sisters.

We moved out and move a couple of blocks from her.where my life really got confusing.

Now i'm twelve and going to a new school again.I was already struggling with my grades.

At the age of 15 I met this married woman who live upstairs she was 25 we got sexually intimate and I was in love with her her husband found out and shipped her back to PR.

At 16 I joined a gang . I look back and see the stupid mistakes I made.

I wish I knew better and my mom was of a good sane mind.

But you must not stay in the past just look forward and make it better.

 

 

Now I married a woman who is 10 years older than me and had 3 kids,we have 6 now.I work to keep them fed , entertained and extremely safe.I try to be a better role model for them than that, that was thought to me

 

 

I may have missed a couple of things ,but I'm in a hurry right now.I'll finish later.

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Wow, Vash, that explains a lot of the anger that you have. I'm glad you're trying hard to make a better life for your family.

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Originally posted by befuddled1

I really don't know. How DOES a person know if they've risen above their lousy childhood? I'm sincerely not sure how a person would be able to know or not. Any ideas? ...........

 

So I don't know if I've risen above it or not. I'm not sure how to figure that out or not. What do you think, from reading what I've written? Does it seem obvious to you one way or another?

 

Well, in my mind the way you know is if your life now is significantly better than it was as a child. And for those who do have children, if they're raising them in a different way, a loving and nurturing way, hopefully without the things that made your life lousy growing up. Since you don't have a family of your own, I guess the gauge would be do you feel personally successful and fulfilled and happy? I have to say that just from the previous two posts, you don't sound like you are.

 

It sounds like you haven't completely dealt with a lot of the things that you think made your childhood bad; i.e., the way your mother treated you. That may or may not have carried over into your choice of men and the abuse suffered there as well. But now you say you have a lot of anger towards men and obviously that can't be helpful in your life either, especially if you would like to marry and have a family.

 

I don't think you should give up on that dream if it's something you really want, by the way. You're still young. And it's never too late to try to work through a bad childhood and make your life more positive. I firmly believe that counseling and therapy can help a lot. I also think that talking to people that have had similar life experiences helps. The more people you talk to, the more you can learn from them about how they have dealt with things, and that you're not alone. So many people have had the same or similar experiences to yours (and yes some a lot worse) and I believe that every person on earth has something to offer to another.

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I was put up for adoption at birth, lived in an orphanage for a couple of months, and was then adopted by a family that had 3 boys already. My adoptive Mother died when I was 3 years old. I lived with my Aunt til my adoptive Father could get control of things at home. When I was 4 he married a woman that had adopted a daughter who was 7 years older than me. They drank alot and were physically abusive to each other. They'd fight over the kids, and it was always "your daughter, my daughter..." When I was 9, 10...I would sit in the woods to get away from the fighting, I remember one day my Father held a gun to step-moms head and threatened to kill her. When I would call the cops out of fear, I would get jumped on by both of them. I quit school at age 16 and moved out with my future husband. He turned into more of an alcoholic, and even more abusive. I would hide in the woods at night til he would go to sleep. I would sleep in my shoes and sweat clothes in case he came in late at night wanting to start a fight, I could run. I have never been able to get over my lousy childhood or my lousy marriage. And being adopted, I carry a huge empty space inside. I suffer from depression, anxiety, and post traumatic stress disorder. I live day to day, and I try to be a great parent to my kids. But I feel that my soul has been tortured. I've been to counseling, been on medications....nothing seems to help.

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I was beaten by hand and belt buckle on bare a$$, molested by countless men, almost raped, abandoned by my dad at 12, witnessed infidelity at 7 by my dad with the teenage neighbor, once choked by my dad, literally suspended in the air by his hands because I was crying, called little c*nt by my dad (became my childhood nickname) I have developed a permanant duck because he used to cuff me in the head all the time for no reason (I think it was his way of saying hello to me) constant drinking, being poor, living in poverty, no food, begging anyplace someone would feel sorry for a starving child, the list goes on and on and on...

 

Lived right next to a junk yard and at night the rats (and other fab wild animals) liked to invade our basement apartment. I started babysitting and raising me and my brother at the age of 6. ( My dad needed his booze, there was never any money for food, but plenty for Vodka) Meanwhile my mom was out trying to escape my dad and his crap by doing her own drinking. She had no idea these beatings happened untill years later. BY the way... me and my mom have a great relationship. I've forgiven her for her part in the past. She was young when she had me. Didn't know any other way. Fast foward to me being 12... My dad got in trouble with some small time wanna be Mafia... he split... basically abandoned me and my brother... never even said goodbye, man.. THAT HURT...

 

I tell you.. even after all the sh*t he put me through.... I still LOVE my dad, loved him then love him now. Then my stepfather comes into the picture.. anouther f*cking winner.. he visually molested me, sometimes touched me in his drunken stupor, name calling, hitting, beating my mom, ect....I walked the streets nightly, as soon as I hit the streets he would stop hitting my mom, I spent countless night huddled on the porch because he would lock me out, or breaking into someones car for some kind of warmth because It was too rainy and cold for the porch. No more about that dumb f*ck. (the only good thing out of that relationship is my awesome much younger sister)

 

When I was 19 I found my dad. Hiding out with more Italians. (We have some not so nice Italians in our family also) I traveled hours to met him after 9 years. He's still drinking like a fish but he's older and more frail then years before (drinking and drug use takes it's toll, I didn't mention that my dad used drugs too... ) One of the first things he says to me.... He comments about my rather large Italian nose, and my smaller breasts. Then he tells me that I've got 2 older brothers by another woman (something my mom already confessed to me, I'll never meet them) and that when he found out my mom was pregnant with me he told her to get an abortion.. so I was unwanted... Jesh.. what a fabulous thing to say to your kid after not seeing or talking to her for 9 years. I spend the night, we catch up somewhat, next day I leave for home after he hands me a picture he wants me to have, a picture of me and my dad and my mom on my first christmas. It's the only picture he ever kept and he wanted me to have it. I cried silent tears inside... boy did I ever.... sometimes I still want to.. well fast foward another 6 years... I'm 25 with 2 beautiful girls... (and boy are they ever!! ) I'm out walking my dog.. we were standing on one side of a street waiting to cross, and there's this short frail looking little old Italian man on the other side waiting to cross.. Turns out OMG he's my father.. he askes me for directions to my old apartment... (neither one of us recognized the other) I stop for a sec, and something clicks... man I know that f*cking voice!!!

 

wooo hoooo... My daddys come back to me.. Christ I cannot tell you how happy I was... short story.. he lived with me for 1 1/2 years.. stole from me, ate all my food, drank like a fish (still) was mentally abusive... I said to myself I'm NOT f*cking raising my kids the same way I was raised... I kicked him out... My world fell apart... I cried and cried untill my landlord came by for the rent... and then was I pissed,, come to find out.. right before I kicked my dad out he took my rent money.. (damnit) Soon I move 2 hours away... Had to get away from everything everyone.. My dad lives in homeless shelter... and holy crap he's been sober the last 2 years... grown up a lot.. we communicate through lettes.. (those letters are one of my most prized possesions, though I can't bring myself to read them again, I will cry if I do) While he's been gone he's been beat up and pushed down subway stairs, hospitalized.. We talk of meeting again, (hopefully someday) he's trying to pick himself up off the ground, but this time I am not going to help him. I am trying to help myself...

 

There's so much more I did not mention like attempted rape... but I don't have the time or patience to type it all... I don't think anybody ever completely gets over thier crappy past. But I am happy... sometimes something's still do hurt. I do have trust issues. I do my best to keep my girls happy, we may not have much, BUT we got each other, we got a roof over our head, and food in the fridge and bills are paid.. you know the important sh*t and by god I love them with all my heart... never ever will I treat them the way i was treated.. I do know how to love.. my kids taught me how too.. untill them I was cold as stone inside... I owe all I am to my kids... I do believe they gave me a second chance. I am now 29, I don't drink (only one in my family who deosn't) don't do drugs and don't smoke either. I am an awesome person.. *smiles* I am happy and I think that makes me successfull in life.

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These stories make me very sad to read. I have one too, but I don't feel like sharing right now. I just wanted to say that my heart goes out to each and every one of you. Believe me when I say, I can relate.

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My biological dad, used to beat my older brothers and sisters. My mom says, that probably, to this day, my older sister has scars from the dryer belt my dad beat her with one night.

 

My mom wasn't paying attention to my dad one night, shortly after I was born, and he proceeded to dump his lit ashes from his cig onto my tiny premature body.

 

When I was around 2 months old, my biological dad took his life (using a gun) 10 feet away from me as I lay in the bassinet, while he was talking on the phone to his mother. My mom, was in the kitchen.

 

My older brother and sister immediatly became wards of the state as my mom was not their biological mother and their real mother wanted nothing to do with the "devil children."

 

Shortly there afterwards, we moved several hours away from any sort of family from either side. My mom talked to a judge and had my name changed to her maiden name, so I wouldn't be "tramatised" if we ever decided to move back to the small town. Hoping that people wouldn't realise that we were the same family that left.

 

Well, finally after 7 years "on the run" and not being able to know my grandparents on either side, we finally moved "back home." After living in 5 different "homes."

 

From that day we moved back, I spent every moment I could with my grandparents on my mom's side. Learning everything I could about my first year of birth, from then on, I was on my own.

 

I have only 1 picture, that was taken at the hospital, to prove I was born at such n such hospital. The rest...I have no other pictures until we moved "back home."

 

A year later, my mom told me that she was pregnant. Life right then changed. She now had this beautiful little boy, that was her own and wasn't a reminder of the life that she had to run from.

 

She then decided that she was going to live the life that she deserved (her words) and decided that after my little brother was born that she was going to continue with the bar scene that she loved ooh so well when she was in her 20's.

 

It was then that she began bringing home "men" if you could call them that. They were perminent fixtures in our lives. My little brother was taught at 3 how to make alcoholic drinks and I learned early on how to fight for my sexuality/diginity.

 

The one "boyfriend" that my mom was in love with for "ooh so long" raped me every night he was at our home. He would come into my room after having sex with my mom and go "now that I had a piece of your mom, your turn..."

 

I would tell my mom everyday what he had done, but she always said that I was the one lying. Ended up having to go to counseling for my "lying." Even the counselors would tell my mom that I was being molested and that my environment needed to change. Shortly thereafter, we would change counselors and we would have to start all over again. I went through 6 counselors in my short life...plus 1 psychiatrist that sexually assaulted me. (charges were filed! yay)

 

In the meantime, while all of this was going on, my mom felt the need not to work. So we became a "welfare" family. While she was out partying and getting drunk or whatever, I was the main parent for my little brother. She still holds the fact over my head that he called me mom for the first 4 years of his life and always come running to me for anything. I was in charge of making sure the bills got paid and that laundry was done, not only for me and my little brother, but for her and her boyfriend of the month.

 

Short story long...she kicked me out when I was 17 (for lying) and I ended up moving and living with my grandparents. That was the best parenting decision she has ever made in her entire life. Even the school system has said such. I ended up going to college and getting a great job and for the first time in a long time, liking who I am.

 

I'm fighting for custody of my 14 year old brother because my mom is putting him through similar things. She no longer has the "boyfriends" by her side, but she is leaving him at home and refuses to encourage him in any school activities. My boyfriend and I regularly take my brother to the store to purchase him clothing and I pay his "dues" for any school activities that he may wish to pursue.

 

Today, he is shadowing a computer tech at the college I used to attend because of my doing.

 

I think that if it wasn't for my grandparents taking me in when they did, I wouldn't have the life that I do. I hope that I can project that same inspiring influence on my brother as they did on me.

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  • 3 weeks later...

My childhood was terrible as well. Not as bad as some of you, that's for sure.

I still harbor bad feelings for my parents. To thier faces I'm cordial, but i don't have an

ounce of respect for either one of them. Luckily enough for me they don't come around to often.

I think I have risen above my childhood but who really knows. I have a great baby girl who I show love every day.

I tell her I love her everyday(along with my wife!) and that makes me feel good because I never heard it from

my parents until I was in my thirties! Now when my parents say it I just let it blow on by because they just say it now

to relieve thier guilt. So phony. Anyway, my heart goes out to all of you who feel pain. I really believe that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

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