Category Archives: Parenting

Growing Up With a Bad Mother

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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.

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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.

 

 

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Bad Parenting Can Produce Good Kids

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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.

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(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.