||October 21st, 2017 Saturday|| Some thoughts on my parents' and brother's past behaviors. You know, I'd more easily accepted that my dad definitely committed covert incest, and possibly regular incest as well. I never thought much about my mom. I was thinking of her as someone in denial or who was enabling his behavior and looking away to appease him. For at least covert incest, I need to add her into there as well. When I hit puberty, she was just as involved in all the sexual commenting on my body as my father was and encouraging me to be more "attractive" and fit my father's ideal standards just as she did with my brother. They both were constantly being naked around us and in the general vicinity of my friends as a kid, and she was just as paranoid about needing to know my sexual thoughts on things as my father was, but with an added dose of shaming whatever my father was encouraging. There's more, but I guess I was always so much more disgusted and uncomfortable around my father, I didn't think much about her behavior. I suppose it's the same with the physical abuse--my dad always did the more extreme version of whatever my mom would be doing to me. She was an evil queen, and he was straight up the Devil. Time: It's been hard for me to narrow down when my parents started being physically violent with me, but I remembered that my mom was at least doing that to me around the same time that first incident with the money--where she flipped out that my dad was giving me his spare coins from lunch for me cleaning my room and she'd try to sabotage me until she succeeded in me no longer getting those coins. (Along with stealing the ones I did get prior to, then telling him I lost them because I'm so "irresponsible" and don't deserve money) My mom's always been weirdly obsessed with even the smallest amounts of money and not having full control over them. She would complain that my dad could have used the extra change for the next day and how he was wasting money. By giving money to his own child to save up. But it wasn't in the bank account, so it was a waste. She'd have to pull more out of the bank and give it to him, and that always greatly upset her. This woman was getting upset a man gave his kid a couple of dimes and nickels or a quarter for completing a chore. And then she'd steal it. Around this time, she would push me and pin me against things. This money thing was at the first house, because I remember the room. This was also at the point where I was refusing to sleep in the bed because I was afraid some man was going to come in my room at night and attack me in my bed. So, this is probably around 1993/4. I can't remember if my brother is born yet or not. But yeah, during one of her sabotage attempts, I stood up to her about how she was lying to him about me and preventing me from cleaning, and was promptly put down, or rather, against a wall, and given a death threat. Over nickels and dimes. Her "jealousy" for his attention was also happening around then. Whenever my dad wanted to do something with me, despite her not even wanting to marry him in the first place, she would flip out about it because he wasn't paying attention to her. She'd be happy if they were arguing so long as she was the center of attention. When he'd buy me weird and age-inappropriate gifts, she'd be mad that he spent money and not that the gifts were weird. She'd be mad if he took me anywhere without her, because it was "unfair". She treated me like a love rival for his attention. I didn't even want his attention at that point because I absolutely did not want to be alone with him, which I've already mentioned why in other posts. Other timing--my first memory of my dad making a sexually inappropriate comment to me was when I was 3, shortly before my brother was born. It was around the time of that Björk video I mentioned last post. I'm really not comfortable with even sharing what the comment was but it's been stuck in my memories for a long time because I remember my mom getting upset about it, because it was in reference to something pornographic in nature. She wasn't upset that he was referencing this thing in regards to me, but that my dad owned porn and that upset her and made her jealous. I asked what the thing he was referring to was because I didn't know what it meant then. He gave me a bullshit answer that hid how sexual his comment really was. Looking back on it, it's really sickening. It's not something you should ever say to your kid, and absolutely not to a kid who's barely out of pull-ups. "Tick Checks": So, I went outside a lot as a kid. Half because I hated being around my parents, and half because sometimes my mom basically threw me outside for hours ("GO PLAY OUTSIDE STOP BEING UP MY ASS" translation: you exist in my general vicinity and expect I acknowledge you there HOW DARE). I was often left outside for hours at my grandparents' house and my great-grandparents' house. We also went up to the mountains for about half the vacations we went on, which meant a lot of time in the woods. My parents never checked me for ticks nor my brother. At some point, my grandparents moved out into some really backwoods place and we were often left outside there a lot too. No checks...yet. Cue puberty. Suddenly now we need to be thoroughly checked for ticks by my mom exclusively in the bathroom after every visit to my grandparents house...including the many times when me and my brother didn't play outside. We actually both stopped playing outside altogether in hopes of avoiding these very thorough, naked checks that we were both well old enough to conduct ourselves anyway, or at least mostly. But both my parents still made us do this. We never got checked when we were out in the woods at home. (Thank god) And my mom needed to check in every little area while making comments about how my body was developing. I would say I could check myself but it took until I started avoiding going on trips with my grandparents completely (cue "you never know when they're going to die! if you don't go TODAY you will NEVER see them again!" as of writing this, grandpa's only been dead a few years and grandma's still kicking) and me outright refusing to go into the bathroom with her in high school before she stopped. Amazingly, after I refused to allow her to examine and touch all over my naked body, neither of my parents cared if I checked for ticks after visiting their house. My brother put his foot down shortly after and my parents never again mentioned checking for ticks. So yeah, once my mom wasn't doing the checking, she didn't care if we checked either. She also never had us shower afterwards, even though she would mention it was a good idea. Because her and my father both had to shower FIRST, but they checked each other LAST and would both take like 30min-1hr long showers each, with 15-20min in between that to wait for the water to heat up again. Usually by the time they were both done, we'd be sent to bed because we were often not allowed to stay up on weekends until Rurouni Kenshin saved me from that mess. (That's it's own story.) During the time they checked, my parents would go on about how they enjoyed the tick checking thing because they checked each other naked too. They emphasized the naked part and how fun it was in a pretty blatantly sexual way, including commenting about touching each other's genitals in front of us. Then my mom would make me get naked to be checked first. Her comments about my developing body were always about sexual aspects of my body. Not oh look you're getting taller. Nope, exclusively about sexual areas of my body. Often negatively at that and how I'm not taking proper care of my genitals or whatever because they could "look better". Yeah, thanks, Mom. (Speaking of that, my mom had a big habit of any time she commented on how we needed to bathe even more than her already overwashing standard, she'd yell all loudly about how we need to clean our ass and genitals, even if company was over. She always emphasized this and not something like "make sure you're washing your hair" or something less embarrassing. This would be when we weren't even planning on taking a shower any time soon. Like she just wanted to reference our genitals and ass being "nasty" in front of people. Ugh.) They did this a lot. They often commented about how I needed to be attractive and sexy to others. But also not have sex or date anyone. That's very important. I need to be sexy in the house. And be what my parents deem attractive. Of course, I'm mentioning both parents here because they both got really obsessed with this when I started puberty but my dad had been like this as early as I can remember making sexual comments about me or to me. I've mentioned some of that stuff in another entry. My mom would get huffy at me for expressing any embarrassment or wanting to cover myself in front of her because "Oh please! I've seen it all before! You're my child!" Yeah, and your child now has pubic hair. Perhaps I'm old enough to check myself or to warrant some shred of privacy on my body. Like why couldn't she check other parts of me and then I check my private parts without her? NOPE it had to be everything all at once. She wouldn't even check my scalp for very long, or under my armpits or behind my knees. She mostly just wanted to check around my privates after a quick glance through my hair. Sex: I've mentioned the weird Dad wanted to know when and what I would masturbate to because he "needed" to ensure I didn't have sex so I "needed" to masturbate. My mom's sex talk was her barging into my room one day, all sweet-like in a syrupy, gross kind of way and informing me that unprotected sex=babies=bad because unplanned babies only happen to bad people (wait, so, like...you? most of this family on both sides? lol). And that was it. No explanation of sex itself. No talk of STDs. No explanation of how to use a condom. Just if you have sex, there needs to be a condom involved. Because what if babies. Pretty sure that's the same "talk" my brother got. Another time, she and my dad, while they were both forcing me and my brother to "kiss them goodnight" (another weird phase that stopped once one of us put our foots down about it) when I was 10-11-ish (this phase lasted a couple of months, this wasn't something we used to do then changed our minds about as we aged--it literally came out of nowhere but they acted like this was some big family bonding things we always did) and some movie they had on or TV show had a mom giving a cringey dumbass version of a sex talk to her embarrassed daughter and my parents thought it was so funny and were like "is it about time we have THE TALK with you". This was while my brother was still in the room (but they were ignoring his existence at the moment) and both of my parents were naked because they always sleep naked but for some reason or another would drag me and my brother into being in that room with them whenever possible while they were naked. Ugh. I said I didn't want the talk because I already knew what sex was. (I had science books that covered human reproduction, so...this wasn't an odd statement, but I knew the information long before that point. I actually cannot remember not knowing what sex was. Which disturbs me.) My parents both laugh and demanded I give THEM the talk to show I know what I'm talking about because I clearly must have a childish understanding of it and they wanted to embarrass me more. I just said no and went to bed. Then they laughed loudly about how funny it was and "cute" that I thought I knew anything about sex. Even though my dad regularly told me all about his sexual encounters since at least when I was in kindergarten. They both shared stories about how they lost their virginity by that point in time. Bought me books that discussed sex. Had me watching biology documentaries all the time. Put on movies with lots of sex scenes. My dad put porn on in front of me and left his adult magazines laying around in plain sight. Regularly discussed their sex life with me or in front of me or about the sex lives of adult relatives. Constantly told me about how this girl or that girl was a whore/slut, which meant she "had lots of sex" or "had a lot of sexual partners". AND SO ON. And that's not even getting into that thing from my early childhood about the man in my bedroom or that I hated being alone with my dad because I thought he might rape me. By kindergarten, possibly being raped was a common thought in my head. Now, they wouldn't know I had that thought, but now, why would I have that thought exactly? But hey, isn't it cute that I didn't want to describe what sex was to my naked parents in their bedroom when I was like 11 and in front of my 7-8 year old brother! HAHA SO FUNNY. It seemed like they were always trying to talk about sexual things with me, nonstop. Bathroom Troubles: I've mentioned before that in early elementary school, I suddenly had issues with going to the bathroom at night and often had accidents. I'd also completely avoid being in the bathroom during the day for any extended period of time, which meant I'd be fine with peeing, but not taking a shit. I'd hold it on purpose specifically because I was afraid of being alone in there for long. Bathing at that point wasn't as much of an issue, since I wasn't being forced to shower with my parents anymore and typically just got stuck watching over my toddler brother in the bath or, if I was lucky, I'd be alone for a while and watch the lights on the water. Anyway, I don't actually remember what I was afraid of. It wasn't the toilet, LOL. It was like for some reason, I felt unsafe sitting there for long, but okay being in the water. I did often "hide" under the water, so maybe that's why the tub was safe but the toilet wasn't. I did that a lot. I tried to stay hidden under the water as much as I could and hold my breath like that game I'd play with my aunt. Water was always a safe place, hiding in the garden in the rain under the rosebushes, submerged just below the surface of a pool with my aunt holding me safely, hiding under the water in the bathtub. Strange since I almost died by drowning once when my dad refused to accept one trip that I indeed cannot be taught to swim much like I cannot learn to ride a bike properly and various other coordination-related failures they wouldn't let a doctor look into. My fear of the bathroom was the greatest at night though, and to a much lesser extent in the day. I got the feeling this originated from me being afraid to leave my room back in the first house (or really, just leave that toy chest) because while I was already afraid of the bed, I was also afraid the "man in the dark" was going to grab me if I was outside of my room too long. So going to the bathroom and being out there a long time was more time for "the man" to come catch me and hurt me. I thought about that a lot as a kid in the first house. I'm pretty sure this fear just then extended across the whole day, and that was the true source of my fear. That I was going to get "caught" and hurt. The reason my fixation was on the bathroom, I'd guess, is because if I was leaving my room at night, that would have been the reason. So it probably just got even further out of proportion. My fear of someone attacking me at night in general never left me, even when I was a teen and largely didn't really think about those memories from the past. The fear never went away. I wasn't able to make some of these connections prior to writing all this out. Anyway, so while this was going on, my mom would take me to the doctor a lot to ask for all these tests and medicines for my issues. Nothing helped because I'd just hold it and that was the only thing wrong. But she seemed to enjoy giving me all those suppositories. She'd never wash her hands before or after or wear gloves and she didn't do anything to actually help get it in like use lube or wet the area. She'd just force push it in with her long nails and often didn't want to wait and would have me start moving again, only for it to come back out and she'd get to repeat the process again while also yelling at me for doing what she told me to do. It would always hurt because she was just forcing this thing up my ass. Which I didn't really need anyway because it had nothing to do with what the actual problem was. Which I told her, but she wouldn't tell the doctor. She would lie about what my problem was and keep making me get all these tests and medical treatments for this "unknown" cause. She wouldn't let me say anything to the doctor myself about why I really was having issues. As a note, she was shown how to do this at least twice by the doctor, who did do everything properly and I had no issues with him. So this wasn't a lack of information or her seeing a doctor doing something wrong. He showed her and gave her specific instructions. She didn't care. She always made me do it where I'd be in a position I told her I found more embarrassing and physically uncomfortable than the other positions the doctor said were also fine to use. Like she chose that specifically because I didn't like it. She often allowed my younger brother to be in the room while she gave these to me. The worst was when she'd also make me be in her lap too, which I found the most uncomfortable and embarrassing out of them and specifically asked to not do it that way. She didn't care. She'd then go on about how she's my mother and this is a "bonding" experience. Then she'd try to make me go shortly after. With me sitting in her lap and my underwear on. What. She wouldn't put me in the bathroom or get like a kid training toilet to use in another room for my sudden bathroom fear. Nope. She'd have me sit there for upwards of sometimes an hour sitting in her lap in my underwear trying to get me to soil my own underwear in her lap while she talked all sweetly to me about it and how it's "okay" and to "hurry up". I hated this so much. I never did, and would try to hold it in even more. I'd ask to be let go to go to the bathroom, but she wouldn't let go of me until she IDK...got bored of holding me there? I'm not sure why I suddenly stopped having issues. To be honest, my mother's behavior once the issue started may have been at least a factor in me getting over that bathroom fear because she was creeping me out so much. As a note, I know that that weird doctor memory is not tied into this stuff. I can remember the doctor visits for this pretty well enough, and it wasn't the same as that other memory. The other memory felt more connected to injury somehow, while this one was more the doctor just thought I was constipated and suggested using a suppository and ran so tests at my mom's pleading for more attention. He was very skeptical of her dramatic nonsense. He seemed to be pretty skeptical of my mom in general. It was his idea to have my brother leave the room when he was showing her how to use them, and my mom was like, "but why? someone has to watch him!!". So he had a nurse sit with my brother in his office to get her to shut up and she still pouted that the nurse might "hurt" him and "can't be trusted" to try and persuade him to let my brother be in the room. Whenever my brother needed some kind of examination or treatment that would also involve genitals being exposed, she'd whine if the doctor told me to go to his office until he called for me because I "needed" to be watched. Remember, this woman never watched us most of the time and would leave us in stores not even telling us where she was going for thirty minutes to even an hour at a time. But when one of us needed to be exposed like that, then she "needed" both children there. Considering my great-grandmother didn't work and always watched us most of the time, if not my grandmother (who also didn't work) or my aunt (pre-marriage), there was no reason she couldn't leave one kid with a relative to watch over us. Also, when my mom would go to the doctor herself for some bullshit (her going to the doctor for asinine shit ever increased as time went on, it's her favorite way to get attention), she would leave us in the waiting room and expect the lady at the front desk to watch us. She did this once when she was supposed to be babysitting CC too. She was being paid to watch someone else's kid who she left surrounded by strangers for over an hour. Typically, she didn't even bring my brother to the doctor with her if it was a trip for me most of the time. But she always made sure she brought him when it was stuff like this, and vice versa with him. I didn't think anything of it at the time other than that she was being really inconsiderate of my feelings, but looking back now, it almost seems like she was just looking for an excuse to put us in such an awkward situation, and I really don't know what to think of it. Razors and other necessities: When I hit puberty, razors (or any other personal care items--deodorant was often another "you shouldn't have used it up so fast!!" thing) were not on the list of priorities for me. My mom would constantly berate me for having any hair between my eyebrows. ("YOU HAVE A UNIBROW! THAT'S SO DISGUSTING!!") Then she would take a razor blade out of a pack she had for some reason and "fix" my "gross" eyebrows...by basically just cutting up my skin. Shaving was always a pain because dull razors. Sometimes, I'd sneak my dad's razor just so I'd have something not as dull as a pebble. Things I shouldn't "use up so fast" typically included: razors, deodorant, toothpaste, food, shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothbrushes (how dare I ask for a new one after +6 months), shoes and clothes with holes in them or a size too small, paper plates and dishes in general (eat on nothing, I guess, seriously she would say things like "I JUST washed a load of dishes and there's already a PLATE in the SINK. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Don't you know how hard I work!!" on the rare occasion she cleaned anything), and school supplies. I have a memory off getting yelled at for asking for new pens for school because I shouldn't have used up the ink so fast. Stock Phrase: "Get your LAZY BUTT/ASS up!" "YOU'RE UP MY ASS" "Up the butt child" (lol this one's just hilariously stupid now because she meant it as "you're always up my ass" but it sounds like something completely different...) "I'll kick your ass!" (she started using this one after watching King of the Hill as her go to phrase whenever she was mad at anyone, including us or her pets) "I'll put my foot up your ass" (same) "This is my sick child/healthy child!" (Healthy=me even though I was always more sickly than my brother, sick=brother because...?) "I'm not your maid!" (in regards to her being expected to do the duties of a housewife, which she was; apparently, in her mind, housewives don't cook, clean, need to take care of their kids, or hell, pay the bills or buy groceries half the time--she now uses this one on my grandmother with dementia who can barely walk, who she is currently the caretaker of, her caretaker duties apparently include giving her food, screaming at her over everything she forgets, and sometimes washing her clothes, but she mostly throws them away) She has plenty of other stock phrases, as does my dad. It's like they mostly talk in stock phrases and stock stories about their pasts (though the details change, it's more like a skeletal outline of stories that they play adlibs with). Even when they're angry, it's mostly the same phrases every time they're angry. Some others I can think of: "You know what you did!" (translation: I just want to beat something and can't be assed to even make up something) "I NEVER wanted to have any children. I didn't even want to get married ever, but then GOD blessed me with YOU!!" (started in teen years when they tried to reinvent themselves) "Look at that girl, she is so chunky" (Yes, chunky, not chubby. She's like a type of cookie or soup.) "Look at that (morbidly obese) woman over there! I look just like her. I'm so fat." (T: Tell me I'm not fat!! You must say I'm not that fat if I point to someone twice my size!) "You know, I could get an upgrade/I should upgrade every ten years, get a new, young woman. Girls love money. They'd be all over me." (Dad would say this 75% of the time in front of my mom, and always "upgrade") "I NEVER wanted to have kids. That was something I absolutely NEVER wanted. I never wanted kids or to get married. That was NOT the life for me. But I thought, if I did, these would be the names I'd give my kids. I decided back when I was a teenager, your name would be blah and your brother's name would be blah, and I'd name you in that order, and there'd be exactly two of you and then I'd have no more, but then your mother tried to ruin everything by changing your middle names. Aren't the names I was originally going to give you the best names ever?! They're so cool, right?" (Dad, the names you came up with are stupid as fuck.) "Hey, did you know this one (New Age book) said (mom's name) is a name people who are evil and steal money have. Look, (celebrity who died in the 90s) was killed by someone and guess what their name was? (Mom's name)! That's proof she's out to get me." (or some variant of "Did you know your mom's first name is the same first name of this one murderer? THIS MEANS SOMETHING." Another 75% of the time said in front of my mom.) "I am the BEST zodiac sign. It says so here. People with my sign are (random traits) and we're so much better than other signs, like (mom's sign) and (me or my brother's signs specifically)." (Dad again) "Atlantis is real and connected to ancient Egypt." (Dad's true obsession.) "Look there's (birds) over there. What do you think it's a sign of?" (Mom) "You know what's the worst combination ever? (Dad's Western or Chinese zodiac sign) and (Mom's sign in either)! You know what's even worse, (Dad's other sign) and (Mom's other sign). Together, there is no worse combo! It's the worst situation EVER. Especially because (mom's sign) are (negative trait)." (Dad said 75% of the time in front of my mom) "(insert old wives tale saying, but said wrong)" (Mom) "It's okay..." (Parents about any food they don't like) "It was actually pretty good!" (Parents about foods they like, these are only two phrases they have for this, just these two vague statements, they cannot tell you why they don't like or do like something beyond maybe a vague "too dry" or "juicey" at best) "Now, this is just MY theory, I know all those scientists wouldn't accept it because I can't PROVE I'm right about (mystical mumbo jumbo based on something someone else already came up with he saw in a movie/TV show), but here's how (blah) works." (Dad, typically involved aliens, Atlantis, Egypt, and Christian lore) "God blessed you with this! You should thank him every day for everything he does for you."/ "It wasn't meant to be. If it was meant to be, God would have made it happen." (First one would be in relation to completely trivial things like buying a video game that would have been widely available, apparently "God did it". Second one would be when she would refuse to pay for academic opportunities for me or she lost the lotto. Apparently, "God" doesn't want my mom to win the lotto or me succeed in academics back when I was a child, but really thought I needed a video game. That makes sense.) "I brought you into this world. I can take you out of it. It's my right." "I took care of you. I fed you and put a roof over your head. What more could you ask for?" (First off, one of those is debatable, and two that's less that what you're legally required to do as a guardian, which is already set at the lowest standards possible) "I may not have been the BEST parent, but I did the BEST I could." (utter bullshit) "It was a good thing I never had time to raise you. It's because I was making all the money. The fact that you raised yourselves is just proof of how hardworking I was." (dad, praising himself for not doing shit for us, and also taking a jab at my mom for doing literally what he did--nothing of value) "I had no idea your mom was never feeding you." (dad, stock phrase because my brother and I have told him countless stories, or told him about stuff as it was happening, and EVERY TIME he gave this response) "What my parents did when I was a kid would probably be labeled as 'abusive' this days/I raised myself, and I TURNED OUT FINE. Even BETTER than most. So it's good that you raised yourselves." (dad again) "You've got nothing to be stressed about/upset about." (both parents, said matter of fact, typically after flipping out if either me or my brother expressed even the slightly amount of stress about anything, we were not allowed to be upset or stressed out and let it show in front of them, only they can be because they have "real" problems) And I'm tired of thinking about that. I could keep going. They never really say anything new unless they happen to like a phrase in a movie/TV show, which they will then repeat for years and year spoken exactly how the actor said the line. Infantilizing nicknames: When we were kids, we had dumb nicknames based on TV-related stuff and shortened versions of our names. As we got older, the nicknames became more childish. And more childish. We had more dignified, normal sounding nicknames as small children than as adults. Their nicknames for me and my brother at present basically sound like babytalk gibberish completely divorced of having anything to do with our names anymore. You know, I of course never minded when my cousins as little toddlers couldn't pronounce my name and it ended up just being a syllable long or a somewhat jumbled mispronunciation. They were little kids. My parents are making up worse gibberish as adults to me as an adult. WTF. They might as well call us "googoo" and "gaga" or "poopy" and "peepee" with how babyish their new nicknames sound. This seems to solely be done because it's babyish and they're trying to either embarrass us or be condescendingly infantilizing. Or both. Don't want to use the actual nicknames here because I don't want them possibly finding this place. More on Birthdays: In that time when my dad started that, "you can only have a birthday gift or we go out to eat" thing, typically it meant we either went to a specific Mexican restaurant, or more likely, a specific Japanese steakhouse. He went to these practically every paycheck for a few years, and it was still pretty common outside of then. I was never fond of going to either location, because to my parents, if you go to a restaurant, you have to "dress up" and look nice or you'll humiliate them. And they wouldn't buy us nice clothes hardly ever, so me and my brother typically got berated for whatever we did pick out to wear. Sometimes going out to eat on these nights, which us children had no say in, required us to clean our rooms up to his standards by the time he got home and be ready in clothes up to his standards or we'd be punished. Of course, no matter how clean our rooms were, they were always deemed not really good enough and "messy", and that it was "pathetic" how bad our rooms were. Our clothing choices would be ridiculed right after. But we'd still go. So, before he even started this shit, I already had a really negative view of going to these places. Initially, one year we went out to eat and I also got a present, along with a god awful song sung to me. (I hate that shit. I would repeatedly tell them I hate it and not to do it, but it was their "right" as parents to force me to endure it because they think good parenting=humiliating/making your kid as uncomfortable as possible in public whenever you can for laughs. It's their "right".) There was a photo taken at one of these. I'm not even trying to fake smile in it. I'm actually frowning in front of a cake on my birthday. Anyway, when he decided the next time around he only wanted to pay for one thing for me, he made it a "choice" between the two--Steakhouse "everyone gets to enjoy" (they really emphasized this and how I was selfish if I wanted a gift just for me on MY birthday) or I could get a gift for just me (which would be its own ordeal since they always tried to screw me over out of getting presents regardless). There were years I either asked "why can't we do both like that one time" or asked for just the gift, and basically all hell broke loose because really, my dad just wanted to go out to eat like he usually did and get a good laugh out of me being embarrassed in public without having to spend anything specifically on just me as an added bonus. He didn't care that it was my birthday. Eventually, I stopped caving. But yes, there were some years in there where my birthday "present" was my dad taking us out to eat...on a day he would have normally taken everyone out to eat anyway but I got the added bonus of being humiliated in public. Of course, I hated my birthday in general, because I hated my dad coming up behind me and spanking me and pinching my ass well into my fucking teens. What the actual fuck. "I'm your parent. I can do what I want." Brother's Unchecked Behavior: Not sure if I told this story before or not. But while we're on the subject of cleaning rooms, one time we both begged a lot for a Zoids model kit each, a Liger Zero. We had to keep our rooms clean and do some other stuff for a few weeks and if he was pleased enough, he'd buy us the kits. (These were ones from K-mart. I think the ones we got cost around $20-30 then.) He wasn't actually impressed, but we kept begging and begging and finally my mom convinced him to get them for us to appease my brother who cried about it. We got our kits and came home to put them together. I worked on mine by myself, but my dad required me to work on it in front of him because he wasn't going to let all his "hard earned money go to waste" by me stupidly losing or breaking a piece, so he had to see that I built it immediately (I was not given the option of building it under his supervision later. It was required I do it as soon as we got home.) and that I did it correctly. After some trial and error, I got the hang of it and completed my kit. My brother struggled to figure it out and my dad worked with him, and by worked with him, at some point my dad just did all of the work because he was fed up with watching my brother and didn't want to explain anything. My brother put stickers on it. They congratulated him exclusively for "doing such a good job putting it all together all by himself". But whatever. I had my Liger, and I knew they'd probably never get me another kit unless my brother also wanted one and he clearly wasn't interested in building them once he actually tried it. I used to keep my Liger on top of my TV, which was direct opposite my bed, so I'd see the Liger up there every morning when I got up. I was really happy with my Liger, and as I've mentioned, I rarely got things I actually wanted (usually if I did get something, it was crap I didn't want that they knew I didn't want), much less anything at all. A few years later, my brother got pissed at me over something trivial. He went into my room, enraged, and grabbed my Liger off the TV and threw it across the room at the wall. It broke apart and some of the pieces fell down into the vent. I told my parents what he did, and my mom said it was my fault for upsetting him and it's "just a stupid toy anyway". Like the BEWD incident where he bent up my favorite card because he lost a game, I asked if they could buy me a new one to replace it, but she told me it wasn't worth buying and I shouldn't have made him so angry to begin with. I made him do this, so it's my fault. Sometime before that, my brother ended up breaking his own Liger by accident and went crying to my parents that he needs a new Liger. So they bought him another Liger toy, but one that was already assembled (more of a toy than a kit) so it wouldn't break. Sometimes, I think back on all the things my brother damaged/broke of mine that I asked for replacements for, and how every single time, I was told no, and that it was my fault. He always seemed to break my most favorite things as well. The big, moving T-rex I carried everywhere as a kid, the BEWD card, my favorite YGO tin box, Liger, and so on, all because he was angry at not getting his way and he needed to punish me for it. And my parents in turn punished me by telling me it was my fault for not yielding to his rage and I somehow caused him to destroy my things. My parents were often vindictive with their whole "what's yours is mine" in regards to each other's property because they were married, and they turned that on us as well. What's ours is theirs, forever, even if someone else bought them. But it came to me all too quickly as a child that what's my brothers is my brothers and what's mine is my brother's as well. What's mine is everyone's, and thus, I really own nothing at all. That's how it was. Toys I really liked, blankets I liked, movies I liked, they could all be "given" to him because he liked them. I was expected to immediately hand them over to him and I was selfish if I wanted to keep my own toy for myself. Nevermind we could have shared the toys or I could have let him borrow them. No, I had to give him ownership of the toy. Which he would usually then break because he was a destructive little shit. If he broke his toys, I'd get in trouble. If he broke my toys, I'd get in trouble. If I accidentally broke my own toy, that's even worse and I probably did it on purpose. Nothing's mine. My toys weren't mine, my food wasn't mine. I recall my brother once throwing a tantrum because I sat down in a different seat than usual in the car because that's "his side". My parents yelled at me too. That side was apparently "his". And I'm just like it's a seat in a car wtf... While I was thinking about the Liger incident, I recalled something else. I've mentioned before, I'm pretty sure, when he was young he would pretend I hurt him to get my parents to punish me, then laugh about it afterwards. Once he got into mid-ways through elementary school and through middle school, he actually would attack me. When he wouldn't get his way, he'd fly into a rage and start hitting me as hard as he could. I remember his face would always turn beet red and he'd be crying and screaming the whole time. It was pretty disturbing to see. I was not allowed to hit him back or push him off. My parents specifically told me to just stand there and take it because he couldn't "really be hurting" me since I'm older and thus stronger (this of course leveled out as we aged, and that I was always underfed and undercared for). He would leave bruises and welts on my arms. Sometimes, if I tried blocking his punches and kicks, he'd get angrier and bite me, intentionally trying to draw blood. I would have to wear long sleeve shirts so no one at school asked any questions about marks on my arms and legs. I should take his punches, kicks, and bites. I should give him all my food, my toys, the blankets on my bed. If he wants it, it's his. If he breaks my things, it's my fault. If he breaks his things, it's my fault. If he bruises me and cuts me, it's my fault. He used to force his way into my bedroom all the time when he was in one of his rages. I'd be running to my room to try and lock the door so I could avoid getting hit since I wasn't allowed to defend myself and my parents wouldn't stop it. He'd run after me and try to stop me from closing the door. If I was successful in beating him there and got the door locked, he'd bang and kick on my door violently trying to break it down and get even more upset that he couldn't. He'd scream at me through the door and cry until my mom came and punished me for "upsetting" him. If I didn't beat him there, I'd struggle with him at the door trying to close it shut and he'd be pushing as hard as he could on the other side to get in and slamming himself against it and kicking. Sometimes he'd get through and start hitting me and screaming at me more and trying to break my things, like with Liger or steal things and take them to his room and claim they now belonged to him. My mother would let him keep those things. Sometimes my mom would throw our toys away behind our backs and he'd think I stole his toys and he'd fly into a rage and demand I let him search my room. I'd tell him no and lock myself away, then he'd get my mom to open up my door from the outside and let him search my room even though she knew damn well she already threw that toy in the trash. Then he'd get upset that he couldn't find it and I must have "hidden" it from him and I needed to give it to him. He'd be upset for like a full week at a time, accusing me of stealing and demanding another search of my room. Other times, he'd claim something of mine was really his all along and I stole it, and my mom would yell at me to give it to him. If I said it was always mine and explained how the toy was bought, she would tell me "it's just a stupid toy, give it to him". If it's stupid, why can't he get over it? What's mine is everyone's. While largely these days he just borders on crying and shouting any time I don't agree with the people in his reddit circlejerk, he has displayed some crazy behavior since then. That's a long story that I need to tell at some point, about him and a girl I'll call Misa who he basically entrapped and isolated for a year. Mom and other women: Since I was a little kid, both my mom and my grandmother needed to comment on pretty much any girl that walked by, no matter how young she was. Look at that girl, wearing a skirt! What a skank! Girls who wear skirts spread their legs for the whole neighborhood! (Girl in question looked to be a middle schooler.) Look at that girl, hanging around boys, what a whore! She'd probably sleeping with every single one of them and more!! Look at that woman there, wearing all that make-up when she's clearly so ugly and fat! No one fat should wear anything so revealing and flashy! (Both my mom and my grandmother have been heavily overweight for decades and would absolutely wear the same outfits) To an even more obese woman than them, in sad fake crying, Look at that woman, I look just like her oh whoah is me please tell me I'm not that fat I need someone to tell me I'm not fat, fat women are ugly. To my aunt, she's such a whore, look at her with her Disney tattoo on her arm, she's totally a skank and trashy I bet she'll be a trucker next (in all fairness, my aunt did become a trucker for a while until her abusive husband ruined that gig for her, but what's wrong with trucker ladies?!)!! Twenty-something woman, Look at her in those shorts, her whole ass is basically hanging out--girls like that have no self respect, doing that to try and get a man, it's so SAD when I was young ALL THE GUYS were always falling over me. I had a man WHENEVER I wanted and I didn't have to SUBJECT myself to such PATHETIC tactics to get anyone to pay attention to me. (Says the same woman who claims she'd have +3 boyfriends at a time, but a girl wearing a skirt or booty shorts=automatically sleeping with everyone who gives her attention...yeah, that makes sense. Or maybe skirts are a common female fashion item and booty shorts are popular in GEORGIA SUMMER.) I will never forget my grandmother telling me my aunt was a whore because she cut her hair above her shoulders in her early 20's and dyed it blonde! Sometimes, she even wore make-up! And went on dates! That's so gross and disgusting and strange that a woman in her 20's in the 90s would want short, dyed hair and wear make-up and want to wear clothes other than baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweater year round! (my grandparents and my parents would tell her those were the clothes she was supposed to wear) My mother has always had this "I was the life of the party and all the guys wanted me and I USED all of them to get whatever I wanted and it was so funny I'm so BEAUTIFUL and AMAZING I never once paid for anything anywhere because I used every guy I could to get what I wanted" beside "LOOK AT THAT WHORE OVER THAT she's wearing (blah) how sad she has no respect, she will take whatever guy, she just spreads her legs for every man, every single man, I know this because she wore (common female fashion item that's currently trendy) and it's so sad that ALL girls these days are like this, such slutty sad girls who will do anything for a guy's attention". She talks of her sister this way too. At this point, I think reality is probably the polar opposite of that. My mom also proudly proclaims that women who enjoy sex toys are sad and fun to laugh at because it means their husbands are bad in bed and she doesn't need sex toys because my dad's all she needs. After she would get back from various sex toy parties she often went to solo or with my dad that she would tell me all about. Once, when I got locked inside her walk-in closet as a kid for the nth time looking for something (socks, I think? she often left the clean laundry in there that she didn't want to fold), I started looking for something to open the door with in that mess (I got locked in because one, a bunch of crap collapsed on me and the door, and two, the doorknob itself got stuck all the time and my parents refused to fix it) and ended up finding some of their sex stuff. More sex books in the same vain as the ones she kept under her bed and stacked beside her bed (you know what's fun? your mom telling you to go get those shoes she keeps under the bed and seeing they're right next to some sex books), handcuffs, some sex dice, lube samples, anal beads, all scattered around under our "clean" clothes. (I say "clean" because she'd just dump them straight onto the floor--another reason I started doing my own clothes) And then there's all those spells she printed out about how to improve your sex life, those "herbal" pills for better sex, the spells she ordered online and through the mail for better sex, etc. Though I suppose nothing will top my dad proudly proclaiming he finishes in less than a minute every time, refuses to do foreplay because "women shouldn't expect to get anything out of sex, it's their fault for being inferior by needing anything more than what I give" (while laughing) and that that's just "nature", so women should just not enjoy sex (but never refuse him either). Also, that my mom and dad have both mentioned he has ED at this point (he claims it's because my mom's fat, she claims there's some medical issue going on he refuses to see a doctor about). I did get out of that closet eventually. I'm just glad I got out of there before I found any more "surprises". I'm sure there were more buried deeper. Seems like I was always finding more of their sex-related stuff at random places in the house. My parent's achievements: My mother claims she's done so many things as a teenager and young adult. Supposedly, there are trophies and awards and medals. She now claims my grandmother misplaced all of them recently. My mom has never once shown me even pictures of these trophies and such. I don't think they ever existed, or if any do, nowhere near as many as she claims. She was in everything, and always the best at EVERYTHING. Perfect. And with more time to do things than exist in a day. (I actually calculated it up once.) My dad's the same way. Sometimes, I wonder if he ever even had that violin he claims was stolen. What if that whole story was completely made up? What about the whole thing where he claims my grandparents used to have an expensive piano that he learned to play on? Was that real? Was he really on the wrestling and the swim team and in the church choir and somehow also skipping so much school he was held back one year and threatened with it other years? And totally never got caught leaving campus when he'd skip? And he forged his grades on his report cards...somehow in a way that kept them that way in the school's records and the paper he took home to his parents? How? What about that thing where he claimed to build his own go cart that he flipped over a cliff when he claims a cop was chasing him? That was likely not even close to reality. Who are these people really? My parents would often brag I inherited their intelligence and that they were totally geniuses. My parents are not very intelligent. I'm not trying to brag, because I don't think book smarts really make anyone better than anyone else, but I know I am more intelligent than them in that regard and was by middle school. Neither of them are particularly bright. They're just really good at manipulation, which I'd say falls under a different kind of intelligence. But my point is--they really, really overestimated their intelligence and whenever I'd get some kind of academic achievement, when they'd brag about it to other parents (because at home it meant nothing), they'd go on about how it has to do with them and them being naturally gifted and how their genes got passed onto me, so that's why I'm "smart". Hard work or natural talent of my own? No, it's just from them. I didn't have to do anything, because I "inherited" their "smarts". Really, if they were bragging about anything I did, it was because I "inherited" it all from them. There was no value in just me, working hard. I am not my own person. That was the message they conveyed to me.