My siblings and I grew up fighting for every inch of freedom we got. We fought for each other, with each other and with the world.
My mom divorced my dad when I was in first grade, and it became my “job” to look after my two younger siblings after that…..By fourth grade my mom had a boyfriend who became our step-father…. He was a heavy drinker, he picked on all of us mercilessly, but he worked on my mother’s house…. he fixed things and took care of us kids when my dad refused. (which was quite often)
My dad wasn’t cut out to be a father. He didn’t want the responsibility. But honestly, neither did our soon to be step-father. My mom got pregnant…. Mr. Almost Step-dad didn’t want to get married, he didn’t want to be a live-in dad… Weekends and Holidays was his ideal. My mom some how forced him into marrying her…. and moving in.
She went from a slightly neglectful man (my dad) who wasn’t real responsible, to an alcoholic, violent, mentally abusive dickhead. Once the honeymoon was over…. once it was obvious that he was no saint… the fighting started.
The name calling, the violence – throwing dishes, throwing chainsaws, breaking tables, telephones…. he would call my mother stupid in front of us…. he would call us horrible names too. Harpies, fat-asses, blubber-butts, idiots, nags, bitches….
Dinner time became a constant fight.
“Don’t talk to our mother like that”
Every day became a struggle of power.
Every day I wished my mother would divorce him. She threatened to, quite often…. but it came down to money and her pride. She owed him a shit ton, and she was too afraid of losing the house. She made him quit drinking….
Things only got worse.
Oh he quit drinking…. for a while…. but the behavior didn’t change.
Fast forward to my siblings and I as adults….
I spent 6 years with an addict that controlled everything I did, that belittled me…. that beat me down mentally until I was nothing….
I most of my teenage years and adult life self-medicating, chasing the perfect high…. and chasing men that were just.like.my.stepfather.
My siblings have ended up with controlling, abusive men….And addicts….
Instead of doing what was best for us kids and for herself, my mother stayed with a man that taught us how to be doormats. How to take the abuse, to think it is okay to be completely controlled by the one that supposedly “loves” us.
Having that fucking house was more important than having some peace.
She confessed a few months ago to blaming herself entirely for our significant other issues. She should – she taught us this crap. She allowed a man that she brought into our lives to color our world with abuse, neglect, dominance and addiction.
Sure – as adults we need to take responsibility for our own actions. We need to get our own heads on straight, and break the cycle ourselves. But it is hard when all you know is chaos. When that struggle and strife seems normal.
Sure, my dad was no picnic…. but we went from the smoke to the fire…. with the step-father figure…
And some how – we have got to get ourselves out.