tired of ret*d mother

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I'm sorry dude.. I feel really bad for you. Maybe your mom needs a lesson taught.. maybe you should treat her the same way she treats you.. let her know what it feels like to be unimportant.. or go out and say it.. say 'You're not important to me anymore'.. that will teach her.

Um, to the people who always claim mothers are good and will come around...uh, no.

My mom's freaking terrific, we have this great mutual respect thing going...but my dad, his mother has borderline personality disorder, amongst other problems, and she's one of those people who perpetually goes out of her way to make peoples' lives suck. Including his. He sends her warm letters all the time (even though it would probably just be best to get as far away from her as possible) and in response she spreads nasty rumors about him and insults his family. (According to her, by the way, it's his and my mothers' fault that I'm 'f****d up' like I am. Even though they're freakin amazing parents.) At least it's marginally better than his childhood, in which she beat him for being weird, but she still sucks.

I'm happy so many of you have had good mom experiences, but UndercoverAlien clearly has not. We all know there is bad parenting in the world. Also, let's not diss someone's grammar and spelling when they're going through trauma. I know we're supposed to lack empathy, but come on!

Brain hug...

EDIT: I sure hope all foster homes aren't bad - I got my little brother that way!

you're right, life sucks and so do our mothers. So lets all sit in a circle and discuss how much each others lives are terrible

I mean most of what I said is dead on(in my eyes). Life is hard and ahhh i dont know at least I know I should never be a therapist

I had lots of trouble from my dad. People told me to respect him because he was feeding me and giving me a roof over my head. He said it was more than I deserved and I should be grateful.

Eight years after moving out, I still don't respect him. I still think he mistreated me.

He may have been very stressed; he probably was, in fact. I wasn't a perfect child; in fact, I had tantrums, hated to do chores, and constantly drained flashlight batteries reading under the covers at night. I drove him crazy insisting that he not lie to my mother about smoking when he said he had quit. I even argued with him.

But the first time he hit me or called me a stupid brat, he should have known that there was a problem and done something about it. He didn't. He kept doing it. He had a choice.

He was not a good father. Period.

There is no shame in realizing: Sometimes, parents can be wrong. Sometimes they can be downright bad parents. If you can't get out, the only thing you can do then is to try to keep your self-respect, grow up with as much of your mind intact as you can manage, and get out on your own as soon as you can. I left home when I was 17 and have never looked back.