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Childhood
#1
I was doing some familly of origin work with my therapist the other day and it got me thinking about my childhood. To an extent it was a childhood of extremes. To an extent it was fairly idylic, I was brought up in the welsh countryside and remember allways playing cowboys and indians down by the stream. My dad used to gather loads of ferns (Which he used as arrows) and used to hide and throw them at me and my friends. My parents divorced when I was eight and that was pretty traumatic for me cos as a result I saw less and less of my Dad who was kind of a hero for me. When I was 10 I thought it would be a good idea to wear my sisters peach bridesmaid dress to school and do a dance routine in the schoolyard. As you can imagine this went down like a lead brick and meant that I was badly bullied for years to come. Whilst my parents were very comfortably off financially they were not very emotionably available to me as a child which meant that it took me years to finally comming to terms with the fact that im quite emotionaly repressed. My parents were both polititcions throught my chilhood so I allways remember being dragged off to London and elsewhere to go on demonstrations. As a familly we went on wonderfull holidays to canne and America. So all in all I have some wonderfull childhood memories and had it not been for the bullies would be nigh on perfect.

Be interested to hear what youre chilhoods were like?
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#2
sparky71 Wrote:
im quite emotionaly repressed.

Thats me all over never thought about emotional repression.
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#3
Nice thread Biggthumpup
My folks died while we (me and younger sis) were young so we grew up with foster families...always in the country tho...so i spent my days playin in forests,fields and rivers Cool
I was always pretty popular in school tho so was never bullied even tho we moved around alot so there was always the fittin in thang goin on...my last childhood home was at the mouth of Dundrum Bay at the foot of the Mourne mountains (totally magical for a kid) so all in all filled with fond memories!
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#4
Well, my childhood is a little hard to explain. It was good in the respect that I had great parents that never pushed me into anything, nor did they divorce. So at home, my life was fine. It was more when I started school that things went awry.

I never made any friends, and still to this day carry nothing but bad memories of school from kindergarden to grade 9. It was at the end of grade 9 that my parents and I moved to New Brunswick, since then I have been a lot happier.
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#5
So where were you living and raised until grade 9, Doug??? A rougher environment, it seems.
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#6
I was born and raised in Lake Louise, Alberta. Now Lake Louise itself was a great place, extremely beautiful, but it was a tourist destination and as such it was a hard place to grow up. But, I went to school in Banff. Here's where it gets complicated. There were only a handful of kids in Lake Louise, and only a couple my own age, so the rest of my classmates lived in Banff, which was an hour drive on the highway, so a long distance. Thus I never could really get to know my other classmates outside of school much. However, one thing that happened was that the Banff kids looked down on anyone from Lake Louise (especially me) since we were considered poorer. Most of the kids in Banff came from very wealthy families (and I mean close to $1 million if not more). So I was pretty much alienated from everyone. It was very strange, but it happened and I sometimes wish I could change it a little, but oh well, I'm a completely different person now.
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#7
Hi There,
Well i will pre warn you my childhood wasnt the best as i explain here..

Well my childhood didnt start to a good thing... Just after i was born my father walked out and left me my brother and my mother to be with another woman... In my toddler years all seemed alright except my brother would continually throw his pissing toys at me head (which was due to his condition of ADHD which we didnt realise he had at the time).. I used to find comfort in me teddies as a child because where i grew up making friends was something i found highly hard to do... When i started school my brother and his friends would gather around me bullying me non stop because i was sort of "different" in their eyes.. Yeah of course i didnt want to play football i didnt like the game nor did i want to get injured by it..
At the age of six my mother took in a lodger who was then to try and become my "father" but failed.. As time went on at first he was alright until i sat on the stairs one night and my mother was talking with him downstairs.... He was slurring his words and kept calling my mum a fucking bitch wanting more and more drink kept threatening to come up stairs and turn my bedroom into a blood bath if she didnt provide him with his fuel.. I remember on moments like this going to my room being unable to help me mam and putting a pillow over me head hoping it would all go away.. I didnt want to hear things like this... For eight years as a child all i ever got from this so called wanna be dad was torture due to alcoholism.. My days as a child would continually go from getting up and being ordered around by this northern piece of shit telling me what to do when to do it how to do it dont say done it say did it.. That used to really piss me off as a child.. I never corrected him on his fucked up manchesterian accent on words like bath laugh etc etc (no offence to northerners in uk)..
If i managed to get through the first bit of the morning i would go to school if not covered in mild bruises then id be bullied at school and come home to more mind games more abuse... I can clearly remember at the age of ten.. My step dad was working at my nans and said Go get my drill from home will ya? I said ok where is it?? He said under the fucking bed where i always keep it.. I went home and looked and couldnt find it so reported back to be told go get that fucking tool or else your gonna get it....
I went back home and looked everywhere then i noticed he was coming around the corner and i had to hide.. I couldnt face a beating... I ran and hid in the cupboard under the stairs behind some boxes but he found me... He dragged me out by my fucking hair and upto my room where i ended up being smacked around like a ragdoll in his rage that day he smashed my nintendo up my sega mega drive and destroyed some pictures id spent hours drawing.. I remember piecing them back together in tears like id lost a relative.. I always knew he wasnt my father and kept looking out the window on times like this blaming myself for my father walking out... I used to ponder as a child why id received so much torment and abuse why i was the child unable to make any friends and unable to live a normal life..
One morning when i was ten id got out of bed as normal and gone downstairs to find devistation in the kitchen.. I prepared a dinner with my mother the night before and this evil bastard had thrown it all over my mums clean washing the kitchen door was smashed the plates on the floor it was havoc.. My mother could only live on about £15 a week to look after two kids and the rest was on bills and his drink habit... I had gone to school that day and been badly beaten up and after returning home i returned to another night of beatings from an alcoholic step father.. I wanted to tell someone to escape but i didnt want to be taken away from my mum.... I eventually planned my suicide... I was ten years old and planning suicide!!!! Id had enough and the next day i told my mum i was going to wadars (a swimming complex near home) and... On the way I.... I crossed a dual carriageway where cars sped at 40 MPH... I knew in my heart that it was a way i can be free from this torment and pain a easy way out with no more beatings no more abuse no more hassle... So i took the steps into the road and counted the seconds of the cars reaching me and after the sixth car and the average second being 10-20 seconds i stepped out infront of a moving car...
Next thing i notice was waking beside the pavement and the first thing i said to the driver is... Am I dead??? When i was told No im still alive i cried and laid there saying why didnt you kill me.. I dont want to be around anymore... I was asked in hospital what this ment and i told them id had enough of being bullied abused and tormented in life i explained everything to home life school life and social life... I am not too sure what happenned next all i remember is coming home and my mother has told this monster to get out... Get out of our house get out of our lives and stay away forever....
Well at the age of 12 i found out that my dad wanted to see me and my brother again so i said ok and decided to tie up with him... At the age of 14 he no longer wanted to see us and i found out the lodger who abused us for too long was infact his friend and when i told him his reply "Oh well thats what his like". I grew to hate my father and the only use i get from my father to this day is a yearly sum of money for birthday and christmas and i blow it on stuff i know my father would hate me blowing it on....

In growing up in secondary school i still had the bullying but in year nine there was this massive fat bitch nammed Kerry-ann and she caught me on a bad day and christ i just had had one to many names and punches and i just turned round to her and said why dont you fuck off you fat tub of lard standing there like a wanna be bean pole!!! She then punched me so i smacked her back and as she fell i shouted now when i say fuck off lady i mean it and whilst your down there and were getting personal... Try loosing some weight maybe your stand half a chance of not looking like a troll...
In year 10 and 11 my bullying eased off.. Id toppled a high raking member of the school faction and respect was coming my way.. I wanted to fit in and whatnot else so i made sure i did even if it was being a twat and getting detentions... Like i gave a fuck i had company..

After leaving school i calmed down and due to my job i have got my karma on the school bullies.. I have towed their cars slapped them fines and when working for the DVLA I even took great pleasure in CRUSHING their mercedes and BMW's.. They were all begging me not to press on with it but i didnt care i wanted that clamp on their wheel and made sure i was the one towing their car away as i knew they were all on the dole and they wouldnt be able to take the clamps off.. In the end by the time i got to where i was now even though i cant tolerate pubs and clubs for too long due to my childhood which has affected me for my life i can still pick up and pieces and make a go of my second chance.. If i wasnt a fighter in life and lived for my purpose.. would i have been given a second chance???

Kindest regards

zeon x
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#8
OMG, zeon, that is a harrowing tale :frown:
Bighug
Remind me not to attempt to park in Brighton, though :eek:

I spent my first five years in South-East London. Obviously not a lot of freedom at that time, but happy enough. I didn't see much of my father. He was always working, something I came to resent. I know he bitterly regrets the time he missed with me, but circumstances now have allowed us to build a relationship we never had when I was younger. I was always very close to my mother. Mum and dad had a collection of 78 rpm records which I was allowed to play. They eventually bought me my own wind-up gramophone. I could find any song on any record in this huge pile and my parents and aunt tried to catch me out many times, but I could always find any song they named even though I couldn't read and many of the labels were the same. I'd play the records and dance for hours.

We moved out of London to Hertfordshire when I was five. I started school and was suddenly in the company of other kids (my two younger brothers didn't count!). I wasn't unhappy, but I suppose I had the usual name-calling to deal with. In my case I was a target because tears came easily. I hated it, but couldn't help it. I felt the cold easily too and was teased as a sissy by other children and even some teachers. In that first house we had neighbours either side, also "London overspill" who were constantly at war and I was dragged into their battles. Again I hated it and eventually decided I'd put up with the bullying rather than be forced into their stupid games. I learned to read early on and joined the library. Books joined music as my refuge. As I became older I used to take my bike and go out on long rides by myself. I spent hours playing in fields and woods, climbing trees, making camps and building dams across streams. We moved to another town where the house was 2 minutes' walk from a wood and I pretty much took up residence there Wink I suppose I had a good sense of balance and body awareness, because I was always challenging myself to climb higher than anyone else. I can't remember when the fear of heights I now have kicked in. Maybe it was one day when I slipped and was falling out of a tree until a broken branch tore into my trousers just below the hip and ripped through the material and down the leg until I was left suspended upside down and swinging several feet above the ground held only by the double seam on the turn-up. Thankfully I escaped with just the torn trousers and a few scratches.

I'd been allowed to travel into town by myself on the bus since I was eight. I would spend pretty much all my pocket money on Superman DC comics. I still have about 500-600 comics I bought and constantly reread during the 60s (I haven't looked at them for years now ... I don't suppose they would mean the same to me). I kept a notebook in which I would catalogue every one and marked them with a secret code, which obviously meant something at the time.
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#9
that is lovley about that marshlander! i think i was a silly nourty little boy! when i was little!
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#10
Been great hearing youre replies to this thread so thanks. What was youre childhood like joseph?
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