||January 21th, 2017 Saturday|| My wife and I have been talking a lot about things from the past. Doing this has made me remember a lot of things I'd completely forgotten my parents did. It was like as I retold one memory, another would suddenly resurface, and then another. I've tried writing up entries about things they've done in detail, but doing so is too painful for me to complete, and I feel like I can't shut off my thoughts. It just keeps pouring out, more and more memories and anger. This time, I want to try formatting my entry in a more distant way, by naming off events but not going massively into detail about each one and every single thing said. This isn't everything by far, just what I can recall right now and have the energy to write down. These are just a few things really, but I want to write them down somewhere because I'm worried I'm going to forget about these things again or repress them like before. This format seems to make it somewhat easier to get these things out, even if it's not the full details, and that's better than me repeat writing and erasing everything. I've sort of tried to organize these by theme, but so many of these things overlap. I'll likely make posts with more of these things in the future as they come back to me. What is terrifying is I know there's so much more I can't remember, but I'm also terrified of remembering. I know there's something in particular that is a big black screen in my mind attached to fear. I can remember what's before and after, but the part in the middle is completely blocked out. I have an idea of what it might be, and I've accepted that. But the thought of that memory fully coming back and me seeing is something I don't know if I can handle. I also have no idea what else is on that level of bad that I've repressed entirely, and I know there has to be more bad stuff. Because the stuff I remember I didn't think was that bad at the time compared to other things I've now blocked out. This is still not very coherent. This is the best I can do for now. I couldn't have hobbies outside of what my father approved of, and only if it didn't cost him much money: -I wasn't allowed to take any martial arts classes, even though I did a lot of research on where the cheapest classes were being held at. $20 per class was "too expensive". -I wanted to take archery classes, but if I brought this up, my dad would tell me I could just get a piece of wood and a string and play in the backyard. I was also interested in bow making and tried to find the cheapest, nearest place for that. It was also "too expensive" for them and I was told again to get some sticks from the backyard and make due. -I was interested in learning to play flute after the girl who my mom used to babysit for (I'll call her CC, since I'll probably reference her again in later entries) started taking flute classes and showed me her flute. It was deemed to expensive. I was also interested in making flutes, and again, no. My dad told me to just get a stick and he'd hollow it out and put some holes on the top and that should be "good enough". -I wanted to learn to play the harp, and to an extension also learn about how harps were made. Same results as above. -I wanted to learn to play the piano properly, but I knew that would be too expensive. Since Christmas was coming up, I opted to ask for a keyboard instead since those can be gotten relatively cheap. It may not be high end, but at least I could practice on it. They actually bought me that one, and made a big deal out of how much they spent on it (they'd say $200, but IIRC it was actually on sale and $200 was the original price, I think they actually paid $150-180ish from what I remember) and my parents then took every measure possibly to ensure I didn't use it. They refused to let me get lessons from anyone, refused to buy me sheet music (I could read music already), refused to let me practice on it for most hours of the day, my dad one-upped me about playing skills (see next section), and my mom would yell at me if I printed sheet music off the internet because I "wasted" her ink and paper on "stupid things". Both my parents told me I didn't need sheet music. I should learn to play exclusively by ear and with no guidance. Despite this, I still learned to play a few songs, but I eventually grew to hate it. They wouldn't even let me keep it in my room. It had to be on display at all times for guests to see. -I wanted to learn to play violin at some point, and after a sob story about how my dad was supposedly a violin prodigy after a single year of playing it in music class in elementary school and how his violin got stolen, he then went on to tell me that he wouldn't spend that kind of money on me and went back to lamenting his lost violin. -My parents constantly berated me for not being interested in any "activities" and told other parents that they would have definitely paid for anything I was interested in, I just never had any interests! -My brief interest in jump rope was fine, as that only cost my dad $1 and he could gloat about how he was better at it than me. -Eventually, I gave up on asking to do anything or go anywhere that cost more than the price of gas, which I knew my parents would expect me to pay for and then some so they could have extra money for cigarettes. -Videogames were fine if they came from the bargain bin and he had an interest in the title. -Anime was fine because it was already on cable, but there will be hell if anyone asks to buy a VHS/DVD. -At some point, he forced us to try coin collecting, but he would never get us new coins after the ones he initially gave us, which were the ones he didn't like much from his own collection. He would then gloat about how he had the coolest coins out of everyone. He then made us show him our coins whenever he brought out his so he could count them and make sure we didn't steal a single one of his precious coins. He also made us empty our pockets, and sometimes he even searched our rooms. My dad had no coins of any major value, and neither of us were interested in coins anyway. -TCGs were fine because he could then both "beat" us at something and then also have "cooler" things than us because he would occasionally buy us a few packs and then constantly buy cards for himself to show off to people. My dad needed to one-up me and my brother at all times and act "cool": -When we were into TCGs, my brother and I would have to trade around to get new cards, except occasionally when we would get a pack or two bought for us. My dad bought cards constantly just to show off that he had more rare cards than us and the kids in the neighborhood that we played with. He would also exaggerate how good he was at playing (he always tried to cheat) and how rare/good his cards were (they were pretty average, he just had more than everyone). He would get upset if we ever beat him. We hated playing with him, and sometimes we let him win quickly so he would leave us alone and we could play normally after he left. -The two times my dad tried to force my brother and I to learn to play guitar, he got mad when I could actually mimic everything he was doing, belittled me for thinking I was doing a good job with learning, and that I'll never be as good as him. He would then only let my brother practice, because my brother couldn't understand his lessons and could never progress at all. My father liked this better in a student so that there was never a possibility, at least in his mind, that the person he was teaching could ever surpass him. Anytime I was near a guitar after that, he would belittle me and try to intimidate me about even picking it up because silly me, I could never play it properly, while he tried again to get my brother interested and my brother wasn't. He eventually spent at least $500-600 on a guitar for my brother. My brother never plays it. -When I tried playing on my keyboard, my dad would often hover over me, go on about how he had piano lessons as a child and was a prodigy at it and how he was so much better than I was and was very proud that he could play Greensleeves, such a difficult song. I used to like Greensleeves, but every time I tried to practice the song, he would comment on how he was better than me at it and I started to hate it. He did try to play the song once, and he was terrible at it. -In more detail below, my dad didn't want me to wear a helmet because that's not "cool". -My parents kept trying to make me sit in the front seat when I was very little and I would refuse because I was worried about the risk from the airbags and me being so small. My parents would both try to tell me to sit up there because "cool big kids do it" and would yell at me if I refused and sat in the backseat instead. Once, when my mom had several young kids in the car, there was no way around someone sitting in the front, so I volunteered myself so they wouldn't be at risk. My mom used my dad's typical taunting and was like "see isn't this cool" and "I knew you'd stop being so dumb". I never sat up there again until I reached the age recommended to be at. My parents strangely would not allow my brother or me to normally sit in the middle backseat either, despite this being the safest place in the car. I was also told at five that booster seats were "uncool" so they could get out of buying one. I demanded one anyway, but eventually stopped using it before I was actually big enough for seatbelts to fit correctly because they kept whining about it and me being "a baby" for wanting to use it. -My dad always belittled everyone's cooking and expected everyone to praise his and admit, yes, he specifically cooks better than someone in the general vicinity. If he did not get this praise, he would get depressed and keep pressing for compliments while simultaneously insulting someone nearby, possibly the very person he was talking to. -I never had clothes "cool" enough for him. But my parents also didn't typically buy me clothes either. -Jump rope. My dad took my child sized jump rope and tried to out jump me with it often when I was interested in that until he broke the handles from stepping on it all the time. -He always made fun of me and my brother for not being very social and doing all these "cool" things he did as a kid. He also forbid both of us from dating (lol that didn't work), going out to most places, didn't want us to even take a walk down the street, wouldn't let us ride out in the street either, initially didn't want my brother or me to go to sleepovers and blew up the first few times I asked (in 4th grade), wanted any friends we had to only come exclusively to our house and him interact with them or watch them as much as possible, wouldn't pay for me to do any actual activities outside the house, criticized every single friend either of us ever brought over as not being "cool" enough, and only wanted us to do what he was interested in, primarily just with him. -This is a one-up to my mom. She made a cake for me one year and I helped decorate it. He flipped out over it, told us it was awful looking, then drove to the store to buy a cheap cake. At my birthday party, we had both cakes. My dad told everyone this was because my mom's an idiot and forgot that he custom ordered a cake weeks ago. He then tried to get everyone there to tell my mom that the cake he bought tastes way better than hers and looks better. He then used the fact that his cake was completely eaten while there were a few pieces of hers left to prove nobody really liked hers. The cake he bought was 1/4 the size of the one she made. He didn't bother putting candles on it either, and hers had candles and my name on it. -When I was in chorus in middle school, my dad would go on about how great a singer he was because he was in a church choir as a child and an amazing singer, better than me. (I wasn't interested in singing) I've heard my dad sing. He sings like a rooster. It's actually painful to hear. My parents came up with nonsense reasons to not buy things and complained about most things bought for me: -When my grandparents bought my brother and me a trampoline for Christmas one year, my dad took all the attention away from them buying it because he assembled it and constantly gloated about how we owned a trampoline. When some of the springs needed replacement, I told my parents about it and asked for them to buy some new springs so the trampoline could last longer. I was told that's too much money and a trampoline is "meant to be used until it breaks, you don't need to do maintenance on it". He said after that you "just buy a new one". I knew there was no way he would ever spend the $1000 the one my grandparents bought cost and once it was unusable, that'd be the end of it. Once that occurred, as expected, they did not replace it. That's too expensive. -My grandparents bought my brother and me a slide+swing set one Christmas when we were really young. My dad took credit for it because he assembled it, and at some point years later, pretended that he was the one who bought it and exaggerated the price it was bought at from $1500 to +$2000. He didn't put it on flat ground, so the whole thing was unstable from the start. At some point, one of the links on the chain of one sing broken. I asked my dad to fix the swing or to buy a replacement part. He didn't want to spend money on it. So I climbed on top of the swing set and hung upside down from it. I reattached the chain onto the next link and then adjusted the other chain to match it. I ended up doing this with both swings a few times. Eventually, one of the swing's chains came out of the seat and I wasn't sure how to fix it. I asked my dad again to fix it or at least buy a replacement swing and I'd put it up myself, but he refused again. Not worth the money. Since he did a shit job at assembly, the monkey bars part came off at some point. He wouldn't fix it. I ended up fixing it myself by sorting through his tools when he was at work to find something that would work. By the time we moved from that house, both swings had been broken at the seat, the swing set was tilted all weird and moved with the wind, and the slide was detaching itself and falling part. -The bed I used from age 5 on was not bought by my parents. It was given to them for free when my uncle no longer needed it after he recovered from a major accident, which was already a free bed that belonged to one of my great-grandmothers for several years up until her death. It was a full size bed, and I didn't want it. I already had a twin size bed. Once they took the bed, they decorated my old bed like it was a sofa, bought my brother a twin size bed (why not give him mine?), gave him my comforter set that I really loved, and then picked out a bunch of stuff to look "fancy" on my new bed that I hated. I asked to trade with my brother so I could keep my comforter set and also since I was expected to be the one to flip my mattress, something my brother was never expected to do. They refused to allow us to switch beds. They also refused to let me use the other bed. Over the years, my brother was bought several new beds. Whenever this happened and I asked about getting a new bed, they would tell me mine was fine and in good condition (it was falling apart pretty early on) solely on the virtue of it being "bigger than my brother's". I even asked for a cheap futon sofa at some point, and I still got a no. I was also not allowed to get a new headboard because "mine already looked nice" (it was cheap, tacky, and falling apart when they gave it to me). I was not allowed to take it off either. -My mom hated buying us new toothbrushes. At some point, I went two years before she bought me a new one and only because all the bristles were falling out and she whined about it being expensive to replace them often. She bought my brother and me a two-pack for $1. My mom and dad owned electric toothbrushes that cost $40 each and had refill packs that cost $30. They later upgraded to $60 ones for a while. She gave me a 50 cent replacement and complained about the price. If we needed a new tube of toothpaste, she would also throw a fit about it and us "wasting toothpaste" and thus her money. We wouldn't ask for a new one unless there was absolutely nothing left in the tube. Sometimes, I cut it open to try and get every last bit of it out. She also got mad at me for requesting a different flavor than the one she typically bought. We got a cinnamon one once for free from a school event and my brother and I both liked it, so I asked when that one was gone if we could get that one again. She yelled at me about being a "little kid" (because it was advertised towards children) and how the one she usually buys is so much better for us and cinnamon is bad for teeth solely based on the fact that I enjoyed the flavor. That was her proof. The real reason? The toothpaste she usually bought cost 25 cents less. Also, if this other one was so bad for us, why did she let us use it? Because it was "good" as a free item, but "bad" once she needed to pay for it. -Everything I ever wanted to try out was "too expensive" but at some point my dad owned 16 guitars. -I never wanted a bike or a skateboard or skates, but my parents bought me these things anyway because my dad thought they were "cool". Each time, since these were a ways apart, I asked for a helmet. They didn't want to spend the money on that, and my dad tried to convince me I would be a "loser" if I was caught wearing a helmet because "only sissies use those". I then told him I wasn't interested in possibly cracking my head open to impress random strangers while learning to do something new and kept asking for a helmet for me and my younger brother. They did eventually cave on that, but only because they picked out the helmets so they could get the cheapest ones possible. As punishment, they made sure to pick a design I hated for mine. -As mentioned above, they wanted to get out of buying me a booster seat. I am pretty sure they never bought one for my brother. -In my senior year of HS, I asked for a computer for my birthday. I wanted a laptop because I liked the portable aspect of it. I've always loved computers since I was young and my dad and brother tended to hog the one working computer in the house. (My dad would never fix ones that got messed up and refused to spend money to have them repaired) On my eighteenth birthday, my dad pulls out the old Windows ME desktop computer that was collecting dust in the garage and managed to get it to turn on. My dad was like "you always wanted a computer, well here you go, still works good and everything". I was not happy, but accepted the gift anyway and somehow kept that thing alive for a while. This computer was bought in 2000. He gave it to me in 2008 and it had been sitting in the garage for about five years under a desk in an area he regularly sawed wood at. When my brother asked for a computer a few years after he dropped out of high school, my dad custom build his computer and spent hundreds of dollars on it. My brother complained it wasn't high-end enough despite all the parts being upper mid-grade or better. -For my high school graduation, they bought me a burrito and made a big deal out of how they would take me to any fast food restaurant I wanted for dinner. They also complained about having to buy me nice clothes for graduation and having to buy my cap and gown like I had somehow punished them for completing high school. -I was expected to get into college or I'd be a failure at life but my parents refused to save any money for said college and laughed at me if I asked them to put a little aside for me. At age five, they were already telling me they would never save money for me specifically because I wasn't worth it. -They also refused to pay for any academic opportunities I was offered for getting really good grades and would have likely helped me with that whole getting into college thing, but were willing to fork over any amount if my brother was offered something similar. He never did any academic activities offered to him. -I would be yelled at for eating "too much". Too much=any time I ate. When I asked if I could have soup and bread for my lunch once, she told me that was more food than I needed. "Prisoners survive off of bread and water. You have more than you need!" There was also a time period when she decided I only like eating bread and tricked all my relatives into believing this. So I was only given bread to eat outside of dinner for chunks of time on and off in my childhood. It was either bread, junk food, or no food. According to my mother, she always fed me healthy foods. Fruits were rare, and veggies pretty much never got bought outside of the occasional salad. These were more snacks for my dad than anything, which is partly why it was always junk food. He hates healthy foods. They're "gross" and somehow secretly unhealthy coincidentally everything he happens to like. -My mom stopped buying me food for school lunch once I hit high school. She would give me ten dollars instead. This would cover 2 days of school food if I bought that (I'd need at least ~$10.50 to get to 3 days), or 5 days if I bought 2 $1 items from the vending machines. (Typically, since some items were $1.50, this amounted to a soda and a candy bar.) Half the time she gave me a ten dollar bill, which I couldn't use at the vending machine. So if I wanted to break it, I'd have to buy school lunch, which would mean I couldn't eat every day, and the lunch ladies typically tried to force kids to put the extra change on their student account instead of giving change back. Sometimes, she just didn't bother at all. In summers, she didn't buy us anything for lunch. By late elementary school, she would "forget" and remind me last minute so I'd have to suddenly rush to fix my lunch when I was just about to go outside to the bus stop. In elementary and middle school, we were poor enough to get free/discounted lunch but my parents refused to fill out the paperwork for it because they felt "insulted" by it. -They often refused to get me all the school supplies I needed despite also often telling me for most of my earlier childhood that they would throw me on the streets if I ever failed a class. My mom often used the argument that she simply "couldn't fit school supplies in the budget" because we had a limited amount of money and this was all so "sudden". Usually, she would then guilt-trip me into telling her it was okay to give most of what little money she was going to spend on my school supplies to be used to buy more supplies for my brother because I'm "smart" so he needs them "more". -Most of my clothes were bought at yard sales, thrift stores, and clearance sections, and the rest came from hand-me-downs that never fit. Despite some of my clothes cost legit ten cents, my mom would still put off buying me clothes as long as possible. I wore some shoes until they literally fell apart while I was wearing them and some of my pants were about a few inches too short before she would admit, yes, I do need new pants. This made me a bad person, for making her spend money on pants. Or shoes. How dare my feet grow. When I stopped growing, she then decided this meant she never had to buy me clothes again. The only times she might buy me clothes without me getting yelled at is if she wanted to get back at my dad for something and she spent money on something he couldn't have. Those clothes would always be something I would never want to wear, and I was expected to be very grateful for her "surprise" while I then had to spend days wondering if I wore them, when my dad was going to blow up about them. -One year, my mom claimed she could only save $25 up for each of our Christmas presents because Christmas is something you totally can't plan for. It just suddenly happens. To top it off, she forgot to remove the clearance stickers that had the gifts marked down to $5 each. The gifts were a set of cheaply made board games...the exact same set. So my brother and I got two copies of the same board games that she spent a grand total of $10 on. This was also one of the years my parents decided I ruined Christmas because I didn't decorate the tree with them. My dad still got a $60 shirt and $40 pants and a $15 tie. My mom bought herself a new set of pajamas and slippers. I don't know what they cost, but I'm pretty sure it was more than $5. -With my brother, they've always flip-flopped on spoiling him and not spoiling him. It depends on their mood. As for me, I shouldn't ask for things. Supposedly, when I was two, they claimed I cried in the store wanting something and then my dad spanked me with a belt in the store to shut me up and this was a good thing because I never cried again. I have no memory of this so I have no idea if I even did that, but I know my brother cried in stores all the time. Throwing himself on the floor screaming kind of crying. And they always bought him what he wanted when he did that. Including the time he cried because it was my birthday and I was getting something that day and it's unfair if he doesn't get something too. He ended up with a toy double the price of my birthday gift. My parents weren't the ones who paid for my gift either. That was money from my grandparents that I was using to get that toy. -My mom would tell me all she needs to keep me in this state was give me a certain amount of clothes, a bed, and some food. I had no right to ask for more than the very minimum and I should be grateful for her taking me in. When I would say I'd rather she just put me up for adoption, she would then tell me all adopted children get beat worse than me and get raped. She would hand me the phone and dare me to call CPS or the police and that I'll be regretting my decision as soon as I got my first sexual assault or beating. If my brother did this, she just broke down crying with "I try so hard to be a good mother". Constant stealing, lies, punishment, and some creepiness: -My mom wouldn't buy me things, but she often stole money I got from other relatives (or money she gave me as a present) and then tell everyone I lost it after she came back home with a new carton of cigarettes and a case of coke. -My mother pawned heirlooms my grandparents and great-grandparents gave me, then told them I lost them because I'm "irresponsible". -My mom would make up me being in random sports to people and that I was totally a star in whatever but she never knew anything about the sport and just made a fool of both of us -My dad would claim he was the reason I had such good grades, from all his teaching. I'm pretty sure half of it was that whole fear of being thrown in the streets. -My mom once stole money right out of my wallet on a trip to the store where I was the one who asked to go so I could buy something specific, and then claimed I was stupid and lost it, and after making a big scene, suddenly produced a twenty, the amount I was missing, that I would have to "pay her back". -My parents claim they never threw me around or slammed me against things and only lightly spanked me maybe once every month or couple of months, very gently. A single pat or two by hand. I remember my father using full force on me over his knees with a leather belt counting to sixty while he pressed down on my back so my stomach would be as pushed up against his leg as possible so I couldn't breathe. I remember my brother crying from watching but I didn't cry because I was too busy struggling to breathe. I was often on the verge of passing out after times I was punished when my dad was particularly angry about something. Until age 10, I also remember getting some sort of physical punishment at least once a week. It leveled off when they started trying to socialize with people in the neighborhood. There was also a lot of holding me down on things by the wrists or shoulders to the point they left marks. I also had marks and bruises from spankings and really, anything they did. They would say "if the teachers can't see it (i.e. it's covered by clothes), it doesn't count as abuse". Their choice of spanking as a common punishment was also convenient. If a kid complains about that, people just think they're bratty. No one ever considers you can use excessive force with that. Children should not have bruises from being disciplined, especially when the thing they did wrong was often "happened to be in the room when parent was angry about something unrelated to child". I often was afraid they were going to pull some of my bones out of socket too, or flat out break them. -My mother's favorite thing to say when she decided to either slam me against something or pin me down on something (typically a bed) was "I brought you into this world. That means I'm allowed to take you out of it. It's my right as your mother." -She once locked me my room and wouldn't let me out until midnight. I missed most opportunities to eat that day and had to wait until then to go to the bathroom. She also left the light off. It was daylight when she put me in, but after sunset, I couldn't turn the light on. I was too short to reach the light switch. -She stole from every piggybank I ever had. Then told me I was too stupid to keep up with anything. -She made me pay her "gas money" to take me to the library, then didn't let me stay long enough to look at the books there, never filled up her tank, and bought herself more cigarettes and coke. This happened often. -My dad would always explode if I repeated a word from the TV shows and movies (primarily MA and R-rated) he made me watch with him if the word was vaguely sexual. He would scream at me for an hour or so about how I'm terrible for saying that word and I must be evil for knowing about sex. Which was odd simply from the content he forced me to watch, him leaving his Playboy magazines all over the place, constantly telling me stories about all the ladies he's fucked complete with a photo album full of various girls glamor shots, how often he and my mom had sex, and commenting sexually on anyone female over the age of 10. He would blow up at my brother for the same thing. -My mom often threatened to drop pets off at the pound. My dad outright threatened to kill pets. Including one that was typically his favorite because he terrified it and it didn't do what he wanted it to. He was planning on throwing the dog off the back deck, which was on the second floor. He threatened to kill my cat once because it scratched him after he scared it. That was one of the few times I responded back and told him if he did so, he'd be dead in the morning himself. I got a long lecture from every family member about how family are more important than animals, so I shouldn't think of hurting my father if he plans on killing my pets. I should just accept it. -My dad claims all animals love him because he's so "alpha" and he's an animal person. Every animal he's specifically latched onto has always been extremely aggressive to everyone, including me and my brother, and clingy to him. He praised his pets for being aggressive, even when aggressive to his own children. That made them good. They were "protecting him" from us. This meant I often got bit, as well as my friends. When I was really young, his first dog had to be put outside because it was so jealous it would get in my crib and try to kill me. That dog was never nice to me. Despite my dad supposedly loving the dog so much, when the dog got old and was clearly dying, he wanted to shoot it because spending money to have the dog put down humanely was a "waste of money". He also told me when I had a cat in the hospital for a treatable ailment, I should have just put the cat down or let it die at home because "I could buy a new one for so much cheaper than that". My parents refused to get any pets fixed because that cost money, would leave female dogs in heat out with male dogs, whine about the babies, dump them at the pound, some of which were inbred, lather, rinse, repeat. At some point, the pound knew our family and told my mom if they ever caught her up there again, they would be fining her. She just dumped them at a different pound. Until I was near adulthood, he also refused to keep any pets indoors because he didn't want to housebreak them out of laziness. He'd teach them a command or two to show off he was an "amazing" owner, then dumped them outside and only pay attention to them when he could make them attack people. When one of the dogs died, both my parents were so lazy, they didn't bury him for three days even though I told him he died. I would have needed help to bury him myself. Before they buried him, out of laziness, they just threw some leaves over him until they got around to doing it. One of his dogs was put down for having a record of biting people. -For my male friends, my dad would comment on whether or not he thought they could get lots of sex. For my female friends, he would comment on whether they'd look attractive naked and that attractiveness=whether or not someone is good in bed. This started in sixth grade, you know, when I was 11-12. He was particularly specific about breasts and that girls with big breasts were automatically ugly and would look disgusting while having sex, in particularly in doggy style. He was very specific about this imagery. He would also still flip out if I mentioned anything sexual. -My dad didn't want me to have sex so he would ask me what my "plans" were to get rid of sexual urges and what I was going to look at for masturbation material. My brother got the same discussion. I just said "I don't have any interest in that" in hopes he'd hurry up and leave me alone. This happened a few times, starting in fifth grade and on into high school. He would say "but you will eventually, you need to have a plan even if you're an adult". Apparently, he decided I wasn't going to have sex ever. He didn't want me to date until I was like 30 and not have sex until marriage. Oops, failed all three counts. And what do you know, my brother failed too. This comes from the guy who first had sex at 12 and would also make fun of me and my brother for not dating constantly like he did when he was young...even though he said we weren't allowed to and would flip out if he thought we were even interested in anyone. (Is it really a wonder both of did the whole dating in secret thing?) -He would make sexual comments about the women in whatever shows my brother and I watched and games we played while we were playing them. -He would encourage us to watch/play things with very sexual themes in them because he personally liked seeing T&A in everything. -If my brother or I made any sort of comment about the same sex, my dad would suddenly flip out and accuse us of "turning gay". (Jokes on you dad, I'm bisexual. And I'm pretty sure my brother is too. Double LOL.) Ironically, he never picked up on anything odd when my brother and I would marathon Descendants of Darkness, which in retrospect is pretty crazy on our part. We did have enough sense to watch Gravitation when our parents weren't home. -My dad used to try to coax my brother and me to sleep in bed with him if we stayed home from school and my mother was out after we'd already gotten up in the morning. My dad sleeps naked. He typically wanted us to sleep in bed with him in our underwear. He would even make comments that he's not going to do anything "weird" and that he won't cuddle us. He wanted us to sleep as close to him as possible on the bed too, despite it being a huge bed. I always refused and I'm pretty sure my brother did too. -See adoption example above -My dad would often whip me for no reason because "his dad used to use (insert whatever item) all the time" and I needed to know how good at had it that he didn't use (whatever item of the day) to beat me with constantly. I was living a life of luxury in comparison to his childhood and I needed to be grateful of how he chose to punish me because it could be worse. I typically had marks on my skin after these encounters. At least once he made me bleed from this. He would try to do this to my brother too, but I would stand in the way to give him time to run off while my dad just grabbed only me instead. His personal favorite for this was using a switch. He would also pat himself on the back for having not broken a hard plastic brush over my head like his mother did to him when he was five, but that never stopped him from hitting me with hard plastic brushes. -If one of us was getting spanked, it wad the duty of the sibling not being punished to pick out which belt would be used on the punished child. If the "good" child picked a small and thin belt with a small bucket, that carried a risk for also being spanked because we were trying to make things easier for the "bad" child. We were encouraged to pick the longest, thickest belt with the largest buckle. Typically, we picked something in the middle, unless really worried about being punished. Sometimes the "middle" route still got the "good" child spanked too, because that meant we showed some sympathy for the other child. We were also encouraged to laugh at the other sibling while handing over the belt and during the punishment. My dad kept a large amount of belts during this time despite only wearing maybe 2-4 regularly. Also odd, my parents refused to ever buy us belts. I was never bought a belt during all of my childhood. -When i was really young, my dad often threatened to give my mother the same punishments he gave us. Given my mother's reactions, this wasn't meant in a playful or sexual way. It was an actual threat for her "misbehaving". -My dad once told his friend that he would never allow my mom to not let him have sex with her every single day and that he shouldn't allow his wife to tell him when he can and cannot have sex with her. Basic life skills not taught by parents and other neglect: -I learned about proper hygiene and cleanliness from shows like Sesame Street and Barney. -I learned about car and general street safety, I am pretty sure, from Sesame Street. -My parents taught me to read early on, but only in my head and not aloud, and only made me practice the letters in my name and my father's name. I wasn't made to practice writing numbers or memorize colors, though I could count. So kindergarten, I was finally taught how to write all those words I could already read and write out the numbers I could already count. This makes no sense to me. I learned all the colors in kindergarten but still struggled with blue, purple, and pink, and had difficulty reading aloud for most of elementary school. -I eventually mostly mastered tying shoes only after teachers kept yelling at me about me not knowing how to do it and them having to show me over and over. The real issue was that I always struggled with coordination, but my fourth grade, I could tie them consistently on my own. My dad made some weird thing for me to practice on when I was a kid and spent more time showing off his weird device to people and gloating about how he taught me to tie my shoes with it than actually teaching me to tie my shoes. His device actually confused me more than my teacher's instructions. -My mother didn't brush my hair when I was little except for photos and events or she wanted to impress somebody. This stopped being an issue when I could do it by myself, but that wasn't until first grade. My kindergarten school picture clearly shows me with unbrushed, horribly messy hair. She tried to brush my hair last minute that day because she forgot it was picture day, and when I brought that up later, she told me I was just a bad child who wouldn't sit still to let her brush my hair. -I could never tell left from right as a kid, and this became the most obvious when I was in second grade and I couldn't tell > from <. I kept failing quizzes and eventually the test on that chapter. The teacher noticed what was going on and asked if I was dyslexic and allowed me to retake the test. I barely passed it the second time. My parents never looked into this, though I'm pretty sure I'm not dyslexic. This came up again in P.E. often, especially if we played baseball. I could never remember what was left or right, so I kept alternating from being left-handed and right-handed in both batting and pitching. It was the same for kickball, I had no dominate foot. This was also pointed out to my parents. They didn't care and were mostly just embarrassed I couldn't tell left from right. I still struggle to tell left from right. -My mother only cooked dinner for me from as far back as I could remember. The most "cooking" she did outside of that was either things she was making for everyone or making me a sandwich for school, and she didn't even do that all the time. By kindergarten, she would accuse me of being lazy if I didn't cook my own food even though she didn't teach me anything about cooking. I learned about cooking from my grandmother, great-grandmother, and cooking shows. And of course, she didn't like me eating at all. -I learned to fold clothes from watching people in TV shows. -When I would get holes in my clothes, I'd ask my mom to sew them up for me since I knew she likely wouldn't buy me any new clothes any time soon. She would say she'd do it later and throw it in a pile. She'd never fix them. Eventually, I asked her for a sewing kit so I could repair my clothes myself. She gave me an old, broken sewing machine she bought for a couple dollars at a yard sale once and go on about how she bought it to fix clothes and make clothes from designs she came up with (what?) and I could have it. I then asked her to show me how to hand sew, which is what I wanted to begin with and I learned that day, as she tried to show me, my mother cannot sew. I looked up tutorials online how to sew and there happened to be a pocket sewing kit with the broken sewing machine. -I got tired of my parents decided what haircut I would have and having to agree with them that they picked the "best" person in town to cut my hair and were the best parents around for my "awesome" haircut. So I learned to cut my own hair. My dad got jealous of this and insisted I let him cut my hair for most of my teenage years because I'm "bad" at it compared to his "mastery". As an adult, I still cut my own hair. -Pretty sure I learned most of my morals from movies, TV shows, and video games. My dad was too busy trying to convince me that time he almost burned down an entire apartment complex in the middle of the night to get back at a couple of people staying there made him amazing and morally just and his friend who he was "avenging" was a weakling for telling him he was batshit to involve innocent people in his (the friend) drug problems. -I learned to set up most electronics and furniture by myself because my dad was too lazy to show me, and when he did try to "show me" he would just do whatever it was that needed to be done without explaining and then gloat about how he was amazing for accomplishing and that most people weren't as skilled as him. -My parents would get mad at me if I got sick and needed to go to the doctor, unless my mom wanted to get back at my dad for something and used me being sick as an excuse to spend money before he could use it on anything else. -My parents would get mad at me if I asked them to buy ink for the printer when I needed to print out an assignment. My mother twice told me to just "deal with it". So I had to get out my barely functioning typewriter that sometimes just spit out nonsense on its own to retype my work. They also got mad if I asked if my typewriter could be fixed or if I asked for more ink for it. Half the time, the reason there was no ink was because my parents printed out stupid shit all the time, like my mom printing out binders worth of "spells" for sex, money, etc. She had them labeled and left on the computer desk area. She would print them in a way that printed the entire layout of the website with it. She already had bought tons of books on witchcraft anyway. (BTW, she still claims she's Catholic despite her still doing this sort of thing. I don't get it.) -Speaking of New Age nonsense, my mom would spend hundreds of dollars on romance readings about her and some celebrity she was obsessed with but hey there's no money for paying the bills now. She would get mad if I expected her to pay the internet bill so I could do my homework, and get mad if I then asked to be taken somewhere with free internet if she refused to pay it. Because I shouldn't waste her gas. I have gotten zeros on assignments because of this kind of crap, but again, I wasn't allowed to fail classes either and I needed to get scholarships so I could go to college because they wouldn't pay for it. -Because they never looked into most things I had issues with, I fell down a flight of stairs once from getting dizzy and losing sensation in my legs. I ended up breaking some dishes on the way down and cutting open my arms, which got blood on the walls. My dad told me to clean it up, lectured me about bring plates outside of the kitchen, and told me to stop hurting myself because he didn't want to spend money on any medical bills for me. -I was constantly anemic and bordering on underweight. A few times, I was underweight but fortunate for them, it was never at a time a doctor weighed me. This was from me weighing myself occasionally because I was always worried about being underweight. I weighed the most at age 14/15, when I took PE in HS and gained a bit more muscle than before. My mom was also in one of her junk food phases then, so that was a lot of our dinners. After age 15, I did nothing but drop weight. I got to the point that even as an adult with more access to food, I still struggled to actually eat because I couldn't register hungry anymore. It didn't bother me that I was hungry. (This is still a problem for me, but I have gotten better and making myself eat.) I couldn't keep the weigh on either. By age 19, I was 20lbs lighter than at age 14/15. I was definitely underweight then. I had gotten to the point that trying to eat a lot actually became physically painful because I had been eating so little. That's no longer the case anymore, thankfully.