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Tell Me About Your Mother (And Father)
#11
She was 15 when I was born. He was 23. He was a banger wanna-be, petty thief, drug dealer, sometimes pimp. She turned tricks to keep herself in heroin. She's dead. He's in prison.

...and I managed to survive and flourish...who would have guessed...Pengy
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#12
I spent the first 4 and half years of my life with Granny (mother's side) which I think was a blessing. But then Mom took me from her just to hurt her...and none of us was happy with that, not me, not Granny, not Mom & Dad. I still plenty of summers on the farm (owned by many family members, though in a way that it would be about impossible to convert to a factory farm for which I'm grateful) with Granny and also several months while the 'rents were getting divorced (I turned 14 while living there at that time).

Mom & Dad are alcoholics who were unfit to raise a child and I'm surprised one didn't kill the other with the other in prison before the divorce was through (and it nearly did happen, more than once, including from before the divorce procedures were initiated). Though one good thing is that both rejected religion and I think that was a blessing to me as well...though both had a momentary conversion as I was growing up which lasted a month or so (or 3) each and when going to church the one then afflicted tried to drag me along but I was able to appeal to the other in order to get out of it.

That said, Dad could be hilarious, and I can praise him in other ways as well. And Mom had such an incredible memory and I generally loved listening to her recount her life experience, though much of it was depressing (but sometimes funny as well), even when she didn't think so. They unintentionally helped me become very independent and thus gain confidence in myself (but not authority figures) which has served me well in life, though I can't bring myself to thank them for it, especially as none of it was done for my own good.

My best memory from childhood was when Granny gave me a skateboard as a birthday present, something I'd been wanting for 3 years, despite that she didn't like my tomboy ways and hoped to girl me up. This present let me know that she loved me even though I wasn't everything she wanted to me to be, that is she loved ME rather than her idea of what I should be like (which is more than many kids get) and one of the few times in my life when I sobbed was when that skateboard was stolen from me (about a year and a half later) while I was a runaway on the streets (so that's one of my worst memories, but I'll never forget that Granny got it for me and the reason I sobbed was because I'd felt my only link to her had been taken, it was as if someone stole Granny from me).

After the divorce I was forced to live with mom who got me just for the child support and also got me against my wishes. She became very morose rather than angry and would spend lots of time drinking while looking through her modeling portfolio and call me in listen to her stories (often in a way that was criticizing of me somehow) and listen to music that was just really sad, made me think she felt lonely and unloved, but also incapable of feeling otherwise. Though I have terrible nightmares, I count the dreary dreams of when I'm reliving those times to be among the worst just because I feel so "blah" when I get up, it's a time I'd rather forget.

I ran away from home the last time when I was 16 and didn't return (for a brief visit) until I was almost 22. Since then I've learned more about Mom & Dad and now feel compassion for them, but not trust, and they don't desire a close relationship with me and I'm content with that. I still care for them, may be the only one with a genuine tear for Dad at his funeral, and I intend to make sure Mom is never homeless (though she may screw things up herself, obviously I'm not explaining everything because it's too long). I sometimes send them Christmas presents but not that often (they never send me anything, not even a card, but they don't send the presents back either and Mom wears some of the jewelry I sent her).

Neither know I'm gay (though Mom probably suspects) but neither would really care that much because they don't care that much about me.

Granny knows and though she loves me she treats it as a disability and feels that my rough childhood made me that way and perhaps if she'd fought for me harder so she could've raised me then maybe I wouldn't be.

Last time I visited family (last November) Mom was pleased at how I got into an intense altercation with her sister (whom she hates) and invited me over with sincere appreciation for what I did though I wasn't able to do it. The altercation caused a lot of family drama that made it wise for me to leave ASAP and I did the following morning, though I did stop to tell Mom bye. I've heard things have blown over now (save for the one I got into it with, OTOH one of her sons says I'm now his favorite cousin!) so I can go back whenever, but I have no plans to anytime soon (though I've been thinking of visiting a couple of events in a town just a couple hundred or so miles away and if I do then of course I'll stop by).
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