(21:38:11) KY: UGgghhhh, my mom said that she is going to go have a conference with my teachers when we get back. She said my grades are too low ... okay, this is what she is saying right now, "A 4.0? That's not enough to get anywhere in life. If you keep up this poor perfomance in school, you will end up being a bum."
(21:38:19) blissroses: a 4.0 isn't high enough? Dude is your mom on crack?
(21:38:22) KY: Yeah.
(21:38:23) KY: No.
(21:38:25) KY: She's not on crack.
(21:38:28) KY: She's on RICE.
My stomach is so queezy right now because I am so ****ing nervous what she is going to do or say to me when she meets my teachers. The last time she did, I started sobbing [which I never do] and burst outside the office sobbing. That being said, you can assume my relationship with my mother, at least, is made of pure FEAR. Always had been, always will be. Though I always appreciated how hard they work to provide me a home,albeit sometimes I feel as if they see me as stock more than progeny ... even if I know its not true.
I suppose to "outsiders," well, namely more "westernized" people, they would go as far as to label my parents abusive and even though I can get angry at them sometimes, I have a really difficult time saying that they are. In my mind ... they are just very traditional. I have had this problem since I was a kid, in the summer time, I wanted go outside and play with people, but I forced to stay in the house and work out of a text book to improve my second language, which you can tell by my poor grammar, English, and the moment I ever had a nine out of ten on my spelling quizzes, I was smacked. Hell, I even remember sobbing in class everytime that happened and annoyed the **** out of my teacher for she was confused. One time, I just had it, I got out of my door and decided it was the time to make The Great Escape, man, those were the best ... five minutes I ever had in my life. I remember I was screaming, "I AM FREE! I AM FREE! FREE AT LAST!" Yet, as scripted as this may seem, I stopped and looked down the busy street and saw a bunch of hobos and forwhatever reason, I was really scared and turned around and ran back. When I was there ... there was no car left. I was so scared, I ran and looked for them for quite awhile and found them in another parking lot and the first thing my mom said to this silly kid who thought I would go on a big adventure was, "HEY, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? YOU THOUGHT YOU CAN RUN AWAY CAN YOU? GET BACK IN THE CAR." Well ... there was way more than that, but I think I wiped it off of my memory. Its difficult sometimes, though, these memories tend to conflict with a loving and gentle mother who was always, well, okay sometimes, there for me. I hate her for a few minutes and I feel mutual the next - yet, sadly to say, I never felt comfortable around her. She'd often scold me saying, "Why do you always keep secrets from me?" I wanted to tell her, "Its because you never accept my failures!" Though I think this way down the line, I've realized I don't need to tell her, she'd see right through me somehow or another. She's a *****, but she's not stupid at all.
I guess you can tell sometime when you notice that this post talks way more about my mother than my dad, I suppose its a very big misconception about traditional Asian cultures when one says the majority of the people, the woman plays a subservient role, for as I've learned from my family history, present and future, the women are in charge of everything, from making the house function to [at least in Vietnam during the chaotic periods] providing financial income for the family. Though I've often acted as if I hated her, I admire her at the same time, and feel sorry in some ways that I could never really gratify her. When I bring home a 97 out of a 100 on a test, she'll just look at me blankly and say, "Where is the other three?" If I won all of the gold medals in the world, she'd once again say, "Well, don't waste time. Study for your SATs."
One thing that always made me so mad is that she could never really understand how it is like to go to college at 14 and having 11 classes to juggle. Despite of all the work, it always resulted in a blank face - sometimes, I've jokingly [truthfully on the inside] told me friends that I loved school because it always gave me the comfort and support I needed from my teachers complimenting me, often making me feel more welcomed than I am at home. Though now that I am in this new world, I feel like I have been robbed, yet at least a good majority of the people either have family or friends to seek comfort some ... in attempt to quench her unsatiable expectations, I sacrificed the latter, yet I was never paid the former. I remember, for the first time, I went out to the mall with my friends to grab a bite to eat and she calls me, yelling at me why I was not studying ... despite of the fact that it was my lunch break. I was so angry at that time, though I acted as if it was nothing and went on.
Sometimes she angers me, perhaps its because I've been too attached to the American culture [well, at least by my standards] to really understand where is this obsessive behavior, in which I too have come to share, comes from. That being said, I am still FUXXING SCARED AS HELL ABOUT WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME.
How about you? Did you hate your parents? Love your parents? Or had little to do with them?
I never had much of a relationship with my parents. Sadly, they got divorced and the separation caused troubles that are still too powerful to conquer. I do my best to maintain a relationship with them, but they just don't seem to care about putting any effort back into the relationship with any of their kids. Maybe because they had so many (8 kids total) and their days of bringing up/having a relationship with them is done. They are living happy lives, vacationing and whatever. My mother is beautiful and loves traveling and my father is incredibly successful with his construction career, although he doesn't let it show. I have much in common with both of them.
It doesn't bother me much, how distant we are from each other. I sometimes wish I could grow closer to them or get to know them better, but overall, I'm just thankful for the parents I have. They were never overprotective of me and my youngest, closest sister. They were fairly indifferent, which actually made growing up easy and fun. They didn't even bother putting us through school! I was basically allowed to do anything I ever wanted to do growing up.
I sometimes wonder about the things I've learned about life because of them. It seems awful to say this, but I feel I've learned more about what not to do as a parent by my parents, which is still something. They weren't bad people at all and I don't often complain about my upbringing. They just never felt like parents to me, but more like friends.
It's not easy dealing with difficult parents when you're younger. It'll become easier with time, as you gain confidence. Xenos, you seem to lack confidence and I feel that once you gain it, your mother won't have as much power over you, emotionally. Once you hit the point that you realize that it is your life and everything is going to be fine, then you won't stress about your academic success. You won't have that fear in the back of your head or your mother's voice haunting you. You'll hopefully stop thinking about her reactions towards your life because that will make you live your life differently than you want to and you won't ever be comfortable with yourself that way, which makes it tremendously difficult to gain confidence. She keeps sucking it away from you, like poor Aaron Lewis, telling you that you can't succeed without living your life to her standards. Standards that are impossible! I hope you soon realize how impossible it is and start decreasing the stress and becoming a more casual existence.
Life seems tough, especially with those constantly reminded you how tough it is, but it's actually not so. Don
Me: Hey.
Parents: Why did you ditch class again.
Me: Whoops.
Parents: Grounded.
Me: Darn.
Parents: Why are you playing games while grounded?
Me: Whoops.
Parents: Grounded LONGER!
Me: Darn.
Parents: You have straight F's.
Me: Whoops.
Parents: IS THAT AN F IN GYM?!?!?!?!
Me: lol o ya
Parents: Either get your grades up or just drop out already!
Me: 'Kay.
Parents: You dropped out?!
Me: Whoops.
Parents: Fine, pay rent and you can do whatever you want.
Me: Cool.
They're good parents. My dad is FAR more uptight about things than my mom. I love my dad more, though (may sound like ******* thing to say, but it's true). We love each other, barely like each other, and kind of just coexist.
We never really talk about anything outside of video games. Being gone and doing drugs behind their backs kind of distanced us from each other.
Mom: Excellent
Dad: Terrible.
I'd actually like to hear more about your mom, Vampy. She sounds like a mother whom I could learn a lot from.
kk, sounds good. What's your moms aim handle?
well at least your mom cares about you... Your teachers will probably just tell her to calm the **** down. 4.0 is pretty ****in good man, its important to balance schoolwork with some sort of social life as well. Anyone who tries to tell you that being a social person wont get you further along in a carrer is a ****ing retard, even in an enviornment thats supposedly completly devoid of **** like that, where all promotions are supossed to be strictly performance and evaluation based networking plays its role. So rember that! Also there comes a point in every young persons life where you have to do something on your own and disagree and probably totally **** off your parents, it might not be the greatest thing on earth for you, it might even be downright stupid, but everyone has to come of age and lear a couple of lessons the hard way man. My advice, ****ING RELAX. If youve got straight 4.0s youll be fine in terms of colleges. My retarded *** barely pulled a 3.5 or so and I got into all the places I applied to back in the day. Go out and do something fun to get your mind off the **** man, stress management. You cant always control what other people are going to do, but you have 100% control over your own response. chill-ax mother ****er and go have a beer! ... so sayeth specops...
Hmm, my current relationship with my parents could best be described as frazziled. Or perhaps a better way to put it would be that we are distant.
My parents got divorced when I was 4 years old. So I ended up with my mother, in which, as a child she would hardly take me to school, and I barely managed to keep up with the rest of the children in class. Finally, at the age of 7, my father got me back and I started living with him. From that point on I was under his control. He provided for me quite well, anything I really needed. And things were pretty good. Then around 7th grade I started doing poorly in classes, which I in part blame to laziness. My father's best plan was to, of course, ground me. That meant no TV and no video games. This didn't help one bit. I kept doing poorly in school. And that's how things went for most of high school too. A series of being grounded and not. My mother would normally try and bargin him out of doing it, but it'd always rear it'd ugly head back in. And now, as of late, I don't see my mother much, not that I would really want to. I don't know, it's not that I dislike her, it's just don't feel any real connection between the two of us. And as for my father, I want to like him, he provides for me quite well even though I'm still 20 years old. But, things just aren't quite right. Things seem awkward between the two of us. I tend to just ignore him most of the time he wants to talk to me. Can't explain it really.
OVERALL, things could be worse, but they could be better too.
My father was a very abusive person, both physically and mentally. When my siblings and I were young, he would often make a fist, extend his middle-finger knuckle, and rap us on the back of the head, "just in case" we were even thinking of doing something bad. Multiple times, I got the business end of his belt, for no reason.
When I was about 4, I had a large cut near my right eye that had occurred while I was climbing a chain link fence, and my brother decided it would be funny to shake the fence when I got to the top. For about two weeks, rather than hit me upside my head, my dad would grab my head with his left hand and dig his thumb into the cut.
While I was still very young, I realized that I was the only one of my siblings mentally strong enough to continue to withstand his physical assaults, so I often took the brunt of(or saved my brothers and sisters from) his attacks. On one specific occasion, my brother pushed me down the stairs of our front porch. I cut open my lip, shattered a tooth, cracked another, and was generally skinned up all over my arms. I didn't scream or cry, because we all learned that waking dad while he was coming down was like waking a bear by kicking her cub. But when my dad woke up, he saw my cuts and scrapes, and asked me what happened. I shot a glance at my brother who instantly turned white, knowing that if I ratted him out, he'd probably not go to school the next few days. "I tripped and fell down the porch stairs," I told him.
Luckily, my mom and dad seperated the summer after kindergarten. (Just like preschool, I had to walk to-and-from that, too, no matter the weather.) She eventually stopped paying for the house, it was foreclosed upon, and I had to move back with my dad and his girlfriend the summer before second grade, while my mom was homeless with her boyfriend.
My brother got into some trouble, so I was mostly ignored throughout my school years. I would often hear my dad talking to and about my brother, about how much of a "****ing idiot" he was, and that "there was no way this dip**** could be" his son. I would defend me brother, even at the age of 8, but it never did any good.
We moved again, the first month into 3rd grade. Less than two weeks later, my dad was put in jail for allegedly hitting his girlfriend (I believe it, he denies it). I had to live with my mom, who was still homeless. Up until fifth grade, we lived out of her car.
In the sixth grade, I still lived with my mom, but in the same apartment complex as my dad (who left the girlfriend), my brother, and my little sister (dad's ex- was the mother). My dad would be up all hours of the night (slingin'), and right before he would finally go to bed (around 8 AM), he'd yell at my brother for being a "lazy, good-for-nothing bum," because he hadn't gone to school. I didn't live with him, so I didn't have to deal with the abuse, but I would still defend my brother.
I hadn't talked to him since I moved with my mom and her new boyfriend, about half-way through sixth grade, but I went to visit one weekend before freshman year of high school. The same thing went on with him and my brother, and he had started to talk about me, since my grades had started to slip during middle school (uh-oh, down to a 3.2 in Jr. High!), I got fed up and let loose on my dad. I told him how much of a terrible father he was for all the things he had said and done to my brother and I, about how lucky he was to even be living still with all the things he did, that if he would just, for once, try to actually be a parent to us, that maybe we wouldn't be as bad as he sees us, and that we were only that way because of him. He threw a punch at me that I narrowly dodged and hit the refrigerator behind me. He recoiled his hand and grabbed it at the wrist with his other; obviously, the hand was broken.
I walked out of that apartment and didn't talk to my dad until I heard he had to go to the hospital for congestive heart failure, and the doctors found he had colon cancer. I was about half way through freshman year when he was diagnosed.
Apparently, the cancer and the heart failure was a huge wake up call, because my dad finally stopped selling and smoking rock. He and my grandma bought a house near my school, where he, my sister, my brother, and grandma lived. My brother had now become exactly what my dad said he was (good-for-nothing), and since my sister was still very young (six), I decided I would move in with them and take care of him while he was on chemotherapy and grandma because she was generally old. (By the way, here's about the time I joined VGC!)
For the most part, living there was just like a chore. I rarely talked to my dad, since we both knew what our relationship had been like before, and no closeness ever developed between us. I kept going to school, but my grades dropped junior year (they were terrible freshman, 4.0 sophomore) after my dad started commenting on how much it cost to have me live with him and how much of a burden I was, so I got a job paying under the table.
The pay sucked (about $300 a month), as did the work (won't go into detail), but I gave him every penny, and continued to go to school (although I knew it was impossible for me to graduate) just to escape him every day and finally get some sleep. Sometimes, I would walk out the front door, walk down the street, then cut across some lawns and back into ours, sneak in my own window and go to bed. Around 2:45, I'd get up, make myself presentable in my room, climb out the window, then come to the front door like I had just spent a day at school.
Often, I'd come home after school or hanging out with friends and find my bedroom door unlocked or open (I always closed and locked my door; I adore my privacy). Things would never be missing, but they would always appear to have been gone through. I started to leave things really messy, just to inconvenience the bastard. I guess he never found what he was looking for, since I never found anything missing.
Once I got a real job, things changed between him and I, not necessarily for the better. I was giving him all of my money still (I was making about $2000 a month), but he no longer said anything to me pertaining to dropping out of high school, spending most of my time away from home, only being up late at night, and many other things. Our relationship was actually civil... when he didn't know I was home. On numerous occasions, I'd sneak into my room, be half asleep, and I'd hear him and my grandma talking about me. Let's just say that very little good was ever said.
I moved away from that life a year ago. My relationship with my father is almost perfect, except I have to occasionally read and respond to one of his letters. He tells me about how bad his chest hurts (heart failure, remember?) all the time, how hard it is to work at his age, and other things that he expects me to pity him for, but I don't. Anything that man has done, he has brought down on himself in some way throughout his life.
There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, my dysfunctional relationship with my dad. VGC is the first place that I have described such on-goings in full, treasure it, and don't you dare pity me. I don't want your sympathy, so don't start treating me any differently than you already do (not that I would expect you to, but, just in case...) because of my sob story.
Mom's story coming up!
tl;dr
You're parents are insane, and the stress they're putting on you will send you to an early grave. Hope the high GPA was worth the terrible life:D
Theres nothing wrong with a good ol, old fashoned beating here and there... builds character. Im a better person because my dad was hard on me and demanded alot of me. You gotta understand that when your young, its tough for your parents (in most cases especially the dad) to be all buddy-buddy with their kids because one of them has to play the role of the discplinarian. My last couple of years in HS me and my dad fought like it was cool, I even spent the end of my senior year living on a couch in my friends attic cause things got so bad between us... But im an adult now, its not his job to punish me for things anymore. Its amazing how much our relationship has changed, hes one of my best friends now, and hes the first person I crack a beer open with on the weekends. His job is to give advice on things and mentor now, not punish... All things change with time youngins!
Eh. I have my good moments, but I usually **** my mum off without realizing. I admit..I can be selfish at times, and sometimes have NO common sence, I try to stop all of this but it's just my nature, I can't change it, no matter how hard I try.
Take this for example, this is the WORST thing I've done to them, thanks to lack of common sence.
In 8th grade, I didn't want to walk home because of lazyness, I didn't bring my cellphone this day so my friend Rachel was like, "Oh, why don't you stay at my house for a while." So I said yeah, I mean, they have to have a phone right? So when we got there..They had no phone. No cellphone no homephone. I don't know why so I just sighed and had fun with my friends (Sara came over) And while this was happening, in the back of my mind I was yelling at myself to call my mum. So I walked over to Morgan's house with Rachel and Sara at like..7 my mum answered and practically cursed me out, I waited and I got grounded for like..Ever.
I learned my lesson. That's why I'm in indoor person now.xD
[COLOR="DeepSkyBlue"]Our family relations have highs and lows here.
We mostly work on being honest towards each other. It's not easy. When someone lies (usually me or my brother) things go bad for about 2 weeks. 3 at most. We always try to fix things.
We spend a lot of time with each other. People often laugh because I say that I'm going out with my parents. I say "**** off" because I really enjoy spending family time. It doesn't happen often and I consider it important. I don't know when my mom or my dad will have a cancer or something wicked, so I'm taking advantage of the time that is given to me.
We respect each other, of course. Little jokes here and there, but we never insult each other. We never stab each other in the back. I hate that, Somebody that does not have the balls to tell me what he/she really thinks of me, I can't stand. It's even worse if it's my brother/mom/dad. My sister is a little too young for those things.
We're alive people. 100% fun. :D
My parents are divorced, but on both sides, things are working like I said above. Good times.[/COLOR]
I love my mother. We have an excellent relationship.
My father is a little *****. I don't speak with him anymore.
[COLOR="DeepSkyBlue"]Am I being too curious by asking what went wrong with your father?[/COLOR]
I get along with my parents, except when they're arguing with each other and expect me to take sides, which is something I won't do.
[COLOR="DeepSkyBlue"]My parents happen to have conflicts and they'll never ask me to take a side! How dumb. Tell your parents it's non of your business. I hate getting involve in conflicts. Mostly when they don't concern me.[/COLOR]
I'm not close to my parents, but I don't have any grudges agaisnt them. I haven't done anything less than decent concerning school grades, so I've never really aroused their anger in those type of situations. They didn't ask to see test scores and just waited for a report card to make any kind of judgement. If I did very poorly, they'd try to restrict me from going outside or using certain appliances. However, I've always coped well, and it discouraged them from trying to punish me since their efforts were in vain.I've gotten into school fights on multiple occasions, but it never caused any major problems at home. My parents were brutish, and were okay with violence as long as it was justified and didn't bring home any bills.
They've hit me before. It was a long time ago, so I can't quite remember. Probably almost 10 years ago. It was never anything too aggressive. I never had bruises. At most, it would just be red marks on my back and rear, where I was either hit with their palms or worse. Still, they don't acknowledge that they ever did it and I grant them the same right. I don't find any point in bringing it up since it's not happening any longer.
My dad is wealthy. He's always brought home money and given us food, shelter, and perks. Sometimes he can act like an ***, flirt with other women, and get drunk, but he's not a bad father. In fact, he's a great drunk. I admire how much he can drink will still controlling himself. He's not really a violent drunk or a stupid one, so I never had any reason to fear him after a few drinks. He and my mom have arguments all of the time, but they're been married for 25 years, so I don't fear any sort of splitting up on their part. The worst that's ever happened was splitting for a few months many years ago. He's got a great sense of humor and is understanding.
I've had some problems with my mother. She's usually all right to be with, but it's hard for me to hold a conversation with her. She embarrasses me a lot. She lacks good social skills and winds up saying dumb things and acting strangely. She's also incredibly dumb. I think she really lucked out marrying my dad, because she's only taken one or two menial jobs since I've been born, and spending the rest of her life as a housewife. Her education is very poor too, mainly because of her supposed hard life as a child. She's also very religious and close-minded, which bugs me a lot since I'm not religious at all, and it usually conflicts with her. I still love her though, and we spend quality time together, at least at home where I don't mind being near her.
I'm not very family dependent, but when I do spend time with them I have fun. I've admired the parents of my friends, but I don't really mind that I'm stuck with these ones. They're good people.
Part two!
While my dad was an abusive prick growing up, my mom was an indifferent drug-addict for the first years. She only cared about being with family at times that would make her look better to my teachers or her new flings.
I lived with her for about a year after my parents seperated. I had to walk to and from school (1st grade), clean my own laundry, wash my own dishes, prepare my own food, and so forth. For my birthday, I even baked and frosted my own cake. After the bank foreclosed on the house, I moved with my dad, and didn't see her for those few years.
After my dad went to jail, I lived in that car with her for nearly three years. The only time I went "home" to that POS was to sleep, spending most of my time at a friend's house. She had a dog, Penny, that she cared about more than she cared about me, it would seem.
We moved into the apartment complex (known as Ground Zero in the Ogden area) shortly before the end of fifth grade. I had to walk to school, still, which was about 4 miles away. My mom was constantly in her bedroom shooting up or giving the brillo pad a good workout. I slept on the couch while my sisters Mandy and April shared one of the bedrooms.
She met her boyfriend Ken early summer before my sixth grade. She stopped dealing and sucking the glass dick, but lost her job at Iomega because Ken vowed he'd support her and I. This was the first year I had ever had a full celebration of Christmas with my family; my mom's attempt to look like a much better mother than she really was. My birthday was also quite elaborate for the first time, also, the next year.
She was clean, now, which meant she would actually be involved in my life, and being as independent as I had been for all those years, it made freshman year very stressful. Constantly being checked up on, having to inform her where I was going and when I was going to be back, and all the other stuff that a good mother would have done in the 13 years of a child's life. It was too late to save our relationship. I just wanted things to continue the way they were. My grades in Jr. High started slipping, as a result of being hounded constantly.
My freshman year of high school was no better. I rarely got any sleep, because my mom would keep me up late at night to get me to finish my homework, but I never turned it in because I was often asleep in my classes. I would often come to school but go straight to the bathrooms and fall asleep in one of the stalls (yes, sitting on the john). I'd wake up when the final bell rang, and walk home.
This was the infamous year that my mother tried to have "the talk" with me. You know, the one about sex? Since I was somewhat active, already, and had already taken a health education class, most of what she told me about STI's and so forth I had already known. This is also when she implied to me that I was an "accident." She said, "If you ever want to 'be" with a girl, and she's on birth control, make sure she's not on an antibiotic, too. The antibiotic will stop the birth control from working." Useful information, indeed, but then she added, "I learned that with you." I didn't realize what she had said immediately, but about an hour later I realized the implications and did my best to avoid speaking with my mom as much as possible.
Once I moved out of her house the summer before sophomore year, things got better for me, schoolwise. Since I wasn't pressured to do my work, and once again had most of my independence, my grades rocketed up to A's. My counselor noticed this, and asked near the end of the year what had changed, but when I told her, "My family are finally out of my life and I can get things done on my own," she called both my mom and dad and informed them what I had said.
That summer, I was berated by my mom (never heard anything from my dad about it) for what I had said to my counselor. "What do you mean we're finally out of your life?" she'd say, "Ken and I (she liked making Ken look like an important part of my life) have helped you so much through school." Then she'd get even more melodramatic about it and cry, sometimes.
When I got my job, my mom would often degrade me for not keeping any of the money I made, saying that she needed some financial assistance, too. I never gave her a dime, though, concluding to myself that, if she needed money, she could get a job, too.
My mom was the first family member that I told I was going to leave Utah, which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. She told everybody in the family (with my dad being the exception), and I had to listen to everybody tell me how much of a bad idea it was. I didn't listen, obviously, and left.
I rarely respond to any of my mom's letters and e-mails, now that I'm here. She almost always has something to say about how much of a bad son I am, but then turns around and asks me when I'm coming "home." When I wrote her back once and told her that this is my home, now, she replied with, "That place isn't your home. You're playing a childish game and waiting for nobody to want you back. Then you'll come back. You haven't grown up one bit since you've been gone."
Is it any wonder I'm not a criminal?
I loved my Mom. She used to beat the living crap out of me when I did anything bad. I remember many instances where she dragged me across the house by my hair and hit me with whatever random item she could find be it shoes, metal poles, or whatever. I learned. And while I hated the fact that she did this, I realized that it actually made me a better person.
She's not around anymore but my relationship with her was great.
As for my Father...
When my mother was alive, I really didn't like him but now our relationship is excellent. He was the more reasonable one. He lets me do a lot of things that normal parents wouldn't let their kids do at 17. He's cool with me because he knows my Mom beat sense into me and that I wouldn't go off and do really stupid things. He never gets angry and I do whatever he says because it's rare when he ever asks for a favor.
So overall my relation with my parents is excellent.
I get along with my mom about 98% of the time. I can talk to her about just about anything, but we have our little arguments sometimes. My dad, on the other hand is about 2% of the time. I absolutely hate the guy. I don't ever see us getting along after I've hated him for so long.
Mom - We fight alot. We ahve big arguments about small things, and big arguments about big things. She is a bit of a control freak on my life. Knowing how long I'll be gone, where I'll be, whjo I'll be with, how much money I have etc. I found out that she took my phone and put a GPS signal in it. I found that out after she kept knowing where I was. I threw the phone in the back of a gravel truck that apparently went to Calgary. My mom actually drove to Calgary. But even at the end of the day I know she still loves me, and tries to make me a better person.
Dad - My Dad is really laid back with me. We get along great. We ahve alot of the same intrests and stuff so yeah.
I guess my brothers too have also been a parent figure for me. So I'll add them in here.
Matthew(Eldest brother) - He is the strongest in our family. Both mentally and physically. He has a girlfriend with 1 kid, and a step-kid. I don't see Matt much because he lives 12-hours away. But sinceh e got his new job, he is making trips to Edmonton alot(long-haul truck driver)
Scott(Middle brother) - Scott lives in Edmonton and is very caring for me. He tries to protect me from alot of bad things. Me and scott do alot of stuff together, like go too movies lots. I really like spending time with him, and I enjoy beign around his gf too. It's a nice atmosphere.
Jarid(youngest brother) - Jarid, growing up, was probably the brother i looked up too the most. I spent alot of time with him and he's a great influence in my life. He is the one who makes me do better in school. If he was staying with me for a week I wouldn't have gotten a 88% on my test. I'd probably of failed it. He told me to study, but didn't pressure me. so with that freedom I DID study, and did get a good mark. He also taught me how to snowboard. He has been changing alot this past year. He's given up on snowboarding, piano. And has started drinking.
By the way, all my brothers are older than me. So yeah.
Mother - She was always there, supportive, doing the things moms do. She cooked and cleaned, gave me money every now and again, drove me here and there, still gives me cards with money and a heart-felt message on my Birthday and Christmas, overall a great mom. Now she's out living her dreams of traveling, she's a flight attendant, flying all around the world. She's not around as often, but it doesn't make much difference, I'm in that "never home" stage that teenagers go through. Still, she calls to say she loves me and it's nice to see her whenever she's home.
I have a very straight forward relationship with my mother, she does mom stuff and I say thank you and tell her I love her. We don't talk a whole lot, like mother-son bonding stuff, so we don't have that friend-like relationship some parents have with their children, but we don't mind.
Relationship with mother: Good.
Father - Loving, wanting to be there. Cheated on my mother when I was young, divorced when I was 7, remarried about 3 years ago. Of course with a divorce it's hard to be there when you can only stay with your child every other weekend. I honestly didn't mind only seeing my dad every now and again. I liked his apartment, I have very fond memories of sleeping on his extra matress and playing my Playstation on his big screen tv.
My father loved me, and never really wronged me. The only thing I didn't like was the custody battle and my b[COLOR="White"]i[/COLOR]tch stepmother. I have 3 older sisters, the youngest of them is 6 years older than me. So with me being the youngest, my father wanted full custody, no matter how I felt. But of course my mother won the custody battle, and now my stepmother is dying of cancer, and there's definitely less spring in my father's step, so I feel less inclined to b[COLOR="white"]i[/COLOR]tch about it.
Never truly bonded with my father either, but again, I didn't really care. I didn't think it necessary to have a close-knit relationship with either of my parents. He comes over to visit my sisters and myself, and we go out for dinner or desert on ocassion, and that's all I need.
Relationship with father: Good
That post was actually a LOT longer than I thought it would be.
Scroll, scroll, scroll...
[Complaint about parents and life in general]
[Proceed to span simple concept into several paragraphs]
[/rant]
There's my relationship with my parent.
Summary Version
Relationship with mother: Good
Relationship with father: Good
Hoorah.
How did you become a senator of Ramen, anyway; is there something you aren't telling us...?
The position was available and he just took it. Nothing more to it.
What, no election?! What if someone else wanted to be the Ramen senator?! Like, seriously, some little Asian dude was all, "Finally, the position for Ramen Senator is totally available. Now is my chance!" Now he can't, because it's filled. Taken. He is shattered. SHATTERED.
I hope you're pleased. Somewhere, a little Asian man is crying. [spoiler]Either because of my pathetic post, or because of the unavailable Ramen Senator position. Either way...[/spoiler]
Dad: How was work?
Me: It was pretty good.
Dad: IT WAS PRETTY GOOD? WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME MORE! ALL I EVER GET IS THESE ONE WORD ****ING ANSWERS LIKE *whiny tone, waves hands in air* "GOOOOD." WELL YOU KNOW WHAT, PAL? I DON'T WANT ONE WORD ****ING ANSWERS. *Punches me hard in the arm* YOU GOTTA STOP ACTING LIKE YOU ****ING HATE ME OR SOMETHING, BUDDY, OR YOU CAN ****ING GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.
*Ensue starting up a conversation every 5 minutes while yelling, coined with "And you know what else?"*
-----
Step Mom: Derick, can you take out the trash? It smells disgusting.
Me: You smell disgusting.
Step Mom: Har har. Get to it.
My parents are pretty normal. They wake up, drink their coffee, and then go to work. They come back home around seven, then watch some T.V, and then go to sleep.
My dad gets angry really fast at the stupidest things. He hit me once because I washed off a dish and left it in the sink, instead of putting it in the dishwasher. Oh no.
They both like to harass me about grades and wish I would live up to their expectations that my brother set. I still have a GPA of 3.6, but they keep insisting that I could do better. Which I could if I actually studied, but I just get bored far to easy to focus on work for more than 10 minutes.
But yeah, I've got pretty good.
A few weeks ago, I would've said "great". Now, not so much.
My parents divorced when I was about 7, but apparently my mom left the house when I was 3 and only sporadically lived at home. My dad waited until he had a lot of proof of her alcoholism to divorce her so he could be sure he'd get full custody.
I don't remember hardly anything from my childhood except for a few incidents that seem pretty important to me. I won't list them all, but they all have to do with my mom being drunk and my dad desperately trying to get us away from her. When it got really bad he'd take my two brothers and I on a camping trip immediately, and we'd often be gone for a week or so. I'm pretty sure that whenever we got back home my mom would be gone, staying at my grandma's house or something.
So my mom's been an alcoholic since a little while before she got pregnant with me. She's gone through just about every rehab center in the northwest, but still can't be trusted to be completely sober. It's hard to tell what she's really like because a little over a week ago was the first time I'd ever visited her when she was completely sober. All I know is that she makes promises and then breaks them. Also, she repeatedly puts alcohol ahead of being with my brothers and I.
I get along with my dad okay. For the last few years he's been constantly stressed out because of things pretaining to his career. He's almost completely changed from a quiet, laid-back guy to this loud worrier. I have a hard time communicating with him because he assumes he knows exactly what I'm thinking and won't believe me when I tell him otherwise. Any time I try to set him straight, he tells me to stop arguing. I generally avoid talking about much when I'm around him. Lately he's been getting really stressed about wanting to "make us a family again," and has got me going to a phsyciatrist who has told me that I have anhedonia. Any time my dad starts making a big deal(in a positive way) of something I'm doing I lose interest in it really fast. It happened with Cross Country when I started doing well and he always had the stats of the best runners in the next race all laid out to discuss. I just wanted to tell him, "**** it, I'm just going to run, okay? If I feel like doing my best, I will. If I don't, then whatever." He didn't let up, so I quit.
My step-mom is weird. I don't get her, and neither do any of my friends. She seems like she's always on drugs because she's often oblivious to what's going on around her and she just reacts to everything one of two ways- she either laughs this loud, obnoxious laugh, or she completely ignores it as though it never happened. Sometimes she acts pretty normal, though. She's the wrong person to go to for comfort or answers because she can't approach anything in the right way. She's oblivious to this, too. It's really nice that she does all the housewifey stuff around here, but it's troubling that she does almost nothing else.
Overall I don't feel like I have a mother figure at all, and I can't talk to my dad about hardly anthing. My parents are these people who bog me down and get in my way when I want to enjoy life. They're off on a trip right now, and it's great. They asked if I missed them, and I said "Nope" like always. It's true. I feel like I am happier by myself.
Note: I write longass descriptions of everything, but I read everyone else's posts, too. Can't explain why, I'm just interested for some reason. People who don't think anyone cares enough to read their **** are stupid.
[spoiler]sup vamp[/spoiler]
That last sentence is horrible.
It's okay right now I guess. For a long time things were normalish and life was good (by my standards), even though I never really saw much of my father. My mother was always strict when I was a kid; despite the fact that we were far beyond affluent at that stage (we had a five-bedroom house with a private beach and a swimming pool!), nothing ever really affected me in that regard - I wasn't allowed any video games, we didn't have a computer, etc. This really got to me because it always seemed like she favoured my brother - He had a Sega MS, a Commodore 64, got a laptop for his twelfth birthday, he had a bicycle... My Christmas present one year was a Nintendo 64 provided I put $150 towards it myself.
Well, my father decided I was "old enough to manage on my own" when I was twelve, and left. My mother went into a downward spiral from there and steadily started to completely lose her ****. Every time I'd talk to her she'd wind up screaming - There'd be times during that period when I wouldn't talk to her for upwards of a month. She's mellowed out a lot now that she has cash and she's in a relationship again, which is kind of pathetic, but at least I don't have to put up with her trying to dump her emotional **** on me.
My father... Until around a month ago I hadn't seen him since I was 14. I still think he's a dick, and I don't think I could ever be close to him again, but he seems like he's genuinely trying to make an effort to make things right now, rather than selfrighteously defending his decision to walk out, stop paying my school fees, force us to sell our house, our car, all our furniture, etc. I doubt I'll forgive him any time soon for everything he's done, but I feel pretty neutral towards him right now.
Until we moved back to England when I was eight (where the following is apparently illegal, also this is when I stopped living at home), I was beaten by both of my parents. LOL THAT WOULD EXPLAIN A LOT WOULDN'T IT???? No, not really. My dad would smack me around the head pretty ****ed hard, and my mother would constantly threaten me with kitchen utensils (can't think of that many occasions on which she actually used them, though. Wooden spoons are painful).
Another thing which made me angsty was their insistence of me being the best at everything. Brief story: In year 4 of my elementary school (I was 10. Different grading system, I'm pretty sure, and I'm a year ahead), I was in the highest of the four classes. At the end of the school year they'd announce which sets all the kids would go into, and it went a little like this: One "scholarship" set for the particularly intelligent kids taking a different set of harder entrance exams, and three "common entrance" sets, each of which was ranked according to ability. I was placed in the highest CE set despite having had better exam results than many of the scholarship candidates (I later discovered that this was due to the headmaster specifically requesting I not be placed in the S set. Can I have him sued?). My mother found out and went completely ballistic. I was grounded for the whole summer and she even threatened to **** up my BIRTHDAY as a result. Ugh.
There was also her tenacity of the issue of doing what SHE wanted me to do. Yeah, discipline, upbringing, being a child, normal, right? Not in this case. See, at the time I was 10 and my brother was 17, and he was his school's rowing champion - Head of the first VIII, president of the boat club, etc. So what does the woman want ME to do? Take up rowing, of course. Tried it for a term. NIGHTMARE. I hated it, and still hate it, and never want to get back into a *******ed rowing boat again. I told her this and she refused to accept it - "You are GOING to live up to your brother's achievements whether you like it or NOT." I dropped rowing and told her for maybe a year afterwards that I was still taking it. Eventually she found out, and slapped me. Probably the hardest I've ever been slapped in my life; I had a red palm on the side of my face for a few days. I was confined to my room for a week for being a liar and an underachiever. I think that's when I made the decision to stop coming home at the weekends.
In conclusion: Having left home at the age of eight, I don't really care much for my parents. At all. In fact, I live with my brother more often than I see either of them. I'm just glad I didn't go through the typical rebellious I HATE YOU MOM I HATE YOU DAD thing, because people who do that to their parents when they seem to be actually trying to raise their kids properly are total dicks.
The relationship I have with my parents is great.
[quote=The Judge]Me: It was pretty good.
He meant that all he ever gets are those four word ****ing answers. I know though, both are so **** disrespectful. ****it, Derick.
Father, relationship ****ed all to hell. Mother, it now has potential, but probably won't be any better than "neutral" until my father passes away. Eh, as is life.
[quote=Aesthetic]Mother, it now has potential, but probably won't be any better than "neutral" until my father passes away.
Lets just say that it won't be much longer... heh, heh, heh.
[spoiler]No, seriously, I have nothing planned. Sorry.[/spoiler]
*imagines a ferocious, heavily armored kangaroo army hopping their way to New York*
Those kangaroos are gonna need some Canadian Geese to get them all the way to NY! Or beavers. Beavers are helpful.
Wait, are beavers suppose to be the Oregon animal? No, see WE'RE THE DUCKS! The Mighty Ducks!
[IMG]http://copyfight.corante.com/archives/Oregon_Ducks_2.gif[/IMG]
Donald Ducks *
The Mighty Donald Ducks *