Monthly Archives: January 2018

Growing Up With a Bad Mother


Growing up, my mother always made us feel sorry for her. We were to blame for her varicose veins. It was our fault that she couldn’t get a job and go to work. Poor mom never had money while we were kids because of us. Once we were old enough to get out and get jobs ourselves, we were required to give up our money to help support the household.

Before this, however, only Mom was able to have the good clothes. She told us that she was the one who had to look good for the family. She would then pass them on down to us, whether they fit us well or not. Come to think of it, she had plenty of money for alcohol and drugs, too.


When we got driver’s licenses, Mom suddenly needed to be taken places. I’m not sure how she managed so well before, but now she had places she had to go. Funny – I literally hitchhiked to work at the age of 15, because I was forced to find a job and figure out myself how to get there. Mom wasn’t concerned about who it was that might pick me up. She needed money. I ended up being quite fortunate, because I was propositioned many times. Luckily, nothing happened.

My mom’s pity party that we endured as children carried on into our adulthood. My younger siblings still make themselves available for her every beck and call. They are the “Good Kids”.  I, for one, am not playing into it. She doesn’t deserve it from me.

Funny thing, when you’re young and you’re raised that way, you just don’t know any better. You are taught to respect your parents and you don’t even realize how wrong they are. It’s not until you’re older that you start to wonder how you ever thought any of that was right. I can’t make my siblings see it, though. They are all against me. I’m okay with that.



Bad Parenting Can Produce Good Kids


The way your parents raise you defines you, which doesn’t have to mean that they were good people at all. Sometimes just the opposite is true. Often bad parents churn out the best adults.

Take me, for instance. My dad was an alcoholic who left when I and my two sisters were very young. My mother went on to marry another alcoholic who was extremely abusive towards all of us. He threatened to shoot us, and hung one of my sisters up in a closet. My mother finally left him, and just when we thought we were safe, she decided to date guys my age and do drugs. OK, they were a few years older, but very few.


(Above picture is of me, my sisters and mom when we were young. I’m the girl in front in the blue and white.)

Mom allowed said boyfriends to abuse us, as well. Since she was doped up most of the time, she didn’t stop them. They spent the night in the living room, where I also slept. Things happened that I’ve never told anyone about. I don’t understand how any mother could subject her daughter to that, but mine did.

I finally left when I turned 18. I went far away. I met back up with my long-lost dad who claimed to want to be there for me. When I did need anything, though, it was more like, “Sorry, I’m the one who needs help, you should be helping me.” I was pretty much used to not asking for things, though, so it was cool.

As I got older, I realized that my parents’ parenting style was not normal. I vowed to do all I could to be there for my own kids. I don’t have much to do with my mom and dad anymore, and when I tell them why, my parents have the nerve to blame me.

Gotta love parents who take no responsibility for all the bad things that happened to you because of things that they did. How could I, as a child, have been responsible? I made the decision to leave my family when I turned 18. This was held against me. My mother told me to never ask for anything if I went, and to this day, I never did.

Fortunately, my actions changed her, too. She stopped her drugging and drinking and became one of those people who complained about others that do. She became Super Grandma to my other siblings’ kids because they were raised around her. She never had much to do with mine, because she didn’t get to know them. Which she and my siblings never let me forget because it was all my fault for leaving.

I actually meant for this blog post to be about a totally different thing, but there you have it. I’ve finally let it out.


Should You Keep a Cheater?


If you find out your significant other has cheated, should you keep them? Here you are, you’ve just gotten comfortable with someone. You’ve gotten them “trained”, so to speak. They know your habits. You know theirs. You’ve both gotten comfortable with the daily routine.

Now you found out it wasn’t all what you thought. At least, not on their end. They got a little bored with the routine. They had an opportunity to cheat. And they took it.

Maybe a one-night stand didn’t matter very much to them. Maybe you almost wouldn’t have found out about it. After you get over the initial hurt and mistrust, you can go on with your lives. The cheater is generally remorseful, because they got caught up in the moment. They doesn’t really want to switch up their daily routine any more than you do. They just want to bury it under the rug and go back to normal.


But it doesn’t work that way. Or does it?

If it’s been an on-going affair, it’s a little different. Obviously, in order to carry that out, there is no everyday home routine that the cheater could stick to. Maybe there was one, but it definitely changed things when they suddenly had to find reasons to disappear.  That, in itself, causes problems because it upsets the old predictable and everyone has to readjust. After you’ve discovered the reason why you had to readjust, you’re not too happy about the whole thing.

So, what do you do? Do you show yourself as an understanding human being, or do you take it personal? There is always going to be pain and hurt in these situations. But, are you better as a team? Do you stand to lose more by breaking up?