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Kinky Kapers of Kaworu!

Complete and utter parental failure.

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In case you haven't figured out by the title of this blog post, I am talking about my mother.

I have moved on from my past mistakes and I have learned from them. My mother is unwilling to accept that I have done such a thing, so she insists on rubbing my face in my past mistakes whenever she can. I really do think that she gets some degree of pleasure out of doing that, since she always seems so fucking eager to bring up those topics at every turn.

Oh, and according to her, I have no right to feel frustration or anger towards anybody or anything, no matter what the situation is. When I get upset over something, and she finds out, she tells me that I have no right to feel upset, because anything bad that happens to be is most certainly my own fault. Yeah, that is pretty much the message I have always gotten from her throughout my entire life.

Getting beaten up by bullies at school? According to her, I always did something to make them do that, and so I deserved those beatings. Facing homophobia when it happens in my life? According to her, "nobody really did that to you - you either made that up, or you did something to get that reaction out of them". Facing rude comments about my illnesses from a pharmacist who clearly had no right being a pharmacist? "I know how you are like. She did NOTHING wrong, the problem is all you." And so on, and so on.

Yeah, she has no idea what kind of person I really am. To her, I am an embarrassment, she always feels shame about who I am no matter what I do. She thinks of herself as being an essential lifeline in my life, and she even takes full credit for calming me down when I am upset - even though, if she actually had any functional brain cells, she would realize that all she usually tends to do is make me even more irritated, and that the calming down process for me usually begins some time after I listen to her bullshit about how I have no right to be upset.

She does not think of me as a living and breathing human being. She thinks of me as a card she can play whenever she needs to get sympathy from the people around her. "Oh, look at me, my son is a failure, he is an ingrate, I must be a terrible mother - thanks for saying I am not a terrible mother, yeah, you're right, the problem is all him being a terrible son," and so on, and so on.

When I was a teenager, she used psychology as a punishment to use against me. When I act up at school, she does not even bother to wonder what leads up to that - she just drags me to a doctor and forces pills down my throat. And when I get upset over anything, she always asked the same thing - "Are you taking your pills?" What a fucking cunt she is, really. I have nothing but the deepest of rage against her.

Some people have told me that it was some kind of small miracle that I have turned out to be a somewhat moral and decent person despite having this woman as my mother and a violent brutal stepfather by her side. They could be right. But just because I have never acted out violently against them, it does not mean that there are not times when I want to smack both of them in the face, just to send them the message that they have always been complete failures in their parental roles. Don't worry - I am not going to actually do that. Now, I handle them by simply not picking up the phone whenever they call. Maybe if I do that long enough, my mother will get the message that I really do not need her bullshit in my life to get by - but I doubt it.

The biggest thing my mother taught me was how to be ashamed for being human and imperfect. The biggest thing I learned from my stepfather is that there are some people who get a lot of pleasure by going after easy prey (like the kids they are supposed to be taking care of) and humiliating them and keeping them in a constant state of fear and utter dread as much as possible. They are complete failures as parents, and the only thing keeping me from severing all ties with them is how it might negatively impact my relationships with the extended family. If it were not for that major detail, they would be fucking out of my life in an instant.

I did not deserve to get beaten, humiliated, raped, abused, dismissed - and that was pretty much all I had in my life until I became an adult. People doing shitty things to me, and pretty much every adult in my life telling me I deserved it and that I had no right to feel anything but grateful for how I was living. Yeah, my mother knew what I was living through, and she always told me that I should be grateful that life was so good for me, and that I always brought all of those things down upon myself, and that any sign of anger or frustration on my part was a sign of illness that the pills should be fixing.

Oddly enough, when I turned 18 and finally started seeking out mental health treatment on my own, without any of her input, she totally freaked out and told me that I relied too much on those doctors, and not enough on how she thought I should live my life.

Some people should never be parents.

I suppose it is a bit silly to consider that I have been diagnosed with PTSD, considering that there really are many people out there who have had worse childhoods than what I have lived through. But then again, when I make a statement like that, it is probably my mother talking to me. I probably should cut those feelings of shame of feeling anger and frustration out of my life. That is easier said than done, though.

If there is anything good that came out of all this, at least I now know how not to talk to somebody who is in a state of genuine distress.

I'll end this here.
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