Holy shit man, I just remembered something. Like remembered, not just having a general awareness of.
For years, I have laughed and said I was an incorrigible child. I was a demon. No punishment could deter me. Time out chair? Cake. Standing in the corner facing the wall? Arms in the air, like some kind of criminal? In my sleep. Take away my toys? Screw you, I didn't need them anyway. Send me to my room early? Fine, I have an imagination to keep me entertained. Spank me with a slipper? A belt? I could take it. Until I was in my teen years and mellowed out of my own accord, there was nothing my parents could do to effectively punish me. I was a little rebel, and I admit, that's something I've held my head high for.
But one incident has always stuck out in my mind. I was older now. 12 or 13. For the last several years, I had refused to take any photos and would aggressively confront anyone who tried to take my picture. It was like waving a red flag at a bull. Everyone knew it would instantly set me off. But my family had to have their fucking Sears family photo in their fucking matching clothes. I refused.
My dad tried to appeal to me. I refused. He got angry and made a comment about how if I don't want to be part of his family, I could go back to my biological father. I got angrier and refused. My mom, the disciplinarian stepped in. She screamed at me and spanked me till I pissed myself. She made me change clothes into the clothes she'd picked out for me. The fucking pants didn't even fit me right. They dragged me to Sears and had me sit there, red-eyed, tear-streaked, and glaring at the camera with a scowl while the poor photographer took our photos. When we got home, they took away my books and my door. I was grounded for weeks.
Why? I was their property. I had no rights. I had no self autonomy or the right to refuse to have my photo taken. The fact I would dare defy them was appalling. Fuck them. I was old enough to make that decision for myself.
I was sharing this with my partner today in a pissing contest to see who got into more trouble as a kid. When I shared this story, the look on my partner's face gave me pause. And then it occurred to me to ask if this was child abuse. My partner's answer caused me to reflect on my experiences. Maybe those early memories of being spanked until I was hyperventilating and couldn't breathe were a little more than just an unpleasant experience.
They're really fucking lucky I'm going to CTB before they're old and decrepit. Otherwise I might be tempted to take them in and beat the piss out of them.
Shit man. It's always been an open ended question for me. I hear these horrible things that people on this site and in general go through. I've always wondered why I'm so angry and depressed, why I want to CTB when there was nothing in my life that warranted it. My parents were always telling me how lucky I am and how I should be grateful for the things I have and how they weren't perfect but they were good parents. But were they?
My sister tries so hard to be the "good child." But she will never have financial independence and I'm doubtful she'll ever have a relationship. She's entirely dependent on them and delusional to the realities of adult life.
My brother is socially stunted, riddled with anxiety and depression, and also entirely dependent on my parents and my sister. He has no friends, no idea what to do with his life, and no self esteem. He's young enough that he's not screwed yet, but old enough that he should have some idea.
I don't see a bright future for either of them unless they do some major growing in the next few years. Otherwise, before they know it, they'll be 30 and still living with mom and dad wondering what went wrong with their lives.
Yeah, maybe I've been a little shit. I was hyper independent and always demanded to know why. My mom was a young, first time mother who didn't really know what she was doing. But fuck them. They crossed a line. No wonder I live 12 hours away from them and haven't spoken to them in months. Lol. I don't remember why I started this rant and I don't have some neat way of concluding this crap... I just needed to get it off my chest I guess. Better here than rage texting them that they're miserable pieces of shit who should rot in hell.
