1 The Hatred Between Parents

Growing up, my family and I had a lot of issues. Looking back on it now, I realize it made me a stronger and better person. When I was thirteen, that is when I realized that there wasn't anything that I could do to make my life any better. I started to notice more and more about my fucked up family, and how destructive it really was. My dad left when I was still to little to remember him, and he didn't really want anything to do with us until we were old enough to take care of ourselves basically. My mom always told us it wasn't our fault, but who's was it. Hers? His? It didn't make any sense to me at the time. But now I just think that my mom and dad didn't have the energy it took to be parents, hell they still don't sometimes.

My dad would tell me and my siblings that my mother was the problem, and it just went back and forth every time we talked to either of them about it. Which in my opinion is sad, I don't get why they just couldn't be civil with each other. Thinking back I wish I could have voiced more of my opinions about certain situations, but I was to damn afraid to say anything. Which is something a child should never be afraid to do. My mom and dad didn't try to make me feel like I could talk to them. They just made me feel worse every time I opened my mouth.

The hatred my parents showed for each other affected me and my siblings all differently. My sister, who is almost two years older then me constantly excelled in school. Trying to do everything in her power to make something of herself. My brother who is two years younger then me, well he was kind of a whine baby. He looked to my mom for everything and he didn't try to hard to go anywhere in life. I on the other hand did mediocre in school. Got suspended a couple times, not my fault by the way. And I tried to do things to piss my parents off to get their attention in some way. Even if that meant, them blaming each other. At least they were talking, right?

Well no matter what I did to try to help them co-parent, nothing worked. They didn't care how it affected us, they hated each other. I just wish that back then I didn't have to grow up that way. I wouldn't wish that on anybody. It is hard on a child to know that no matter what, their parents will always dislike each other. And kids couldn't even help that.

Beneath the surface of my family there was so much damage and so many lies that were yet to be discovered. Every time I thought that was it, another secret popped up in my face. It is heart retching to know that no matter what you do in life nothing can change the way you were raised, or who you were raised by. Like I said, it made me stronger and better. To what degree? I don't really know to be honest.