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|  Bad childhood experiences -
02-23-2009, 09:02 PM
I've been trying to kick this p-addiction for some time, actually for years, with little succes. It's tearing me apart. I get so sick of it. 1000 relapses and counting. In the words of Alec Empire: "When you've tried a thousand times / a thousand eyes look down on you."
Someone said I should look at my childhood and youth. So I did. A couple of things came to mind. I've thought about these things before, and I've also talked briefly about them, however always with a smile and a shrug. Like, "...so you see, my parents were idiots, surprise, eh?" and then move on to other things.
I get angry when I think about those experiences. Damn fools. A second ago I nearly smacked my fist into my closet. Still after all these years, all the hurt and pain and all that it meant to me then, how it shaped me. My addictions may not have been my parents fault, but they were still a pair of f*****g jerks.
One of the first bad memories. A girl in school was in love with me. I guess I was in love with her as well. I was all confused, all drunk on love, like a 10 year old.
Then one day, she came to visit me at home. I should point out that having friends over was normal for me. I didn't have to ask my parents first. Often, my friends would be asked if they wanted to join us for supper.
Having the girl over was intoxicating, as you might imagine. I was acting strangely, however. Suddenly ashamed of stuff. For instance, I had these casette tapes that my friends and I had recorded talk and laughter on. I didn't want to girl to listen to those tapes. I was ashamed. It was childish, useless.
She went home after at couple of hours. I was high on the experience. Then some hours later, my father came home. And then, after a while, like so many times before, my mother came to my door and said: "Dad wants to have a word with you."
He would often have word with me. To correct me, or to inform me that someone had told him about something bad I had done. Sometimes these things were lies. It did not matter to him. He believed them anyway. Even if I was innocent, it was never official. If I said: "I didn't do that", he would go "IF you should ever do something like that..." I never really mattered what I said.
Anyway, my father wanted a word with me. I went to the living room. He sat there behind his newspaper, facing me. I could not see his face behind the newspaper.
He said: "I hear you've had female company." In a cold voice.
He didn't remove the newspaper.
I said "yes."
He didn't say any more. I just stood there for a minute. Then I went back to my room, passing my mother who was in the kitchen without looking at her.
I felt like I had done something wrong. Something so bad that he couldn't even look at me. He couldn't even speak to me, or tell me what was wrong. He sent for me, spoke one statement, then ignored me.
And I felt my mother was in on it. She had told my father about the girl. She had told on me. And for nothing. We had done nothing. There was no consequence. There was nothing but shame in it for me. It was never mentioned again.
Some years later, my mother starting drinking. A lot. My father as well. I didn't get along with them when this happened. They would try and get me to do stuff, like smile when they had guests over, even if we had been in a big fight all day, or for days. It was getting worse all the time.
I would get gifts from my parents, for Christmas or birthday, but sometimes my parents took away those gifts. Sold them. I didn't get the money. They just thought I shouldn't have those things any more. I would come home from school and stuff would be missing.
At the same time, when we got in a fight, my father would ALWAYS say "all the things we've done for you, and all the things we've given you. And now you treat us like this." He would be drunk while saying it. I think I've heard that sentence 50 times. He still does this.
One summer, I think I was 13 or 14, I came home after visiting a friend. It was in the sunny afternoon and my parents and I had to go and visit someone that night.
My mother was standing in one livingroom, only wearing panties. She had gotten breast implants. I didn't want to look at her naked, so I looked the other way and tried to pass her, by the dinner table. She would often be almost naked night before a party. I don't know why.
She stopped me as I tried to pass her and grapped my hand.
She said "Have you ever felt breasts before?"
Then she forced my hand to her breast. I tried to resist, however I was too stunned to use my full strength. I felt her breast for half a second, then I yanked my hand loose and went to my room. The entire house reeked of perfume because my mother always tried to hide the smell of her alcoholic breath. The perfume always gave me a headache. I remember her breast under my hand.
My parents drank more and more. I started to eat my dinner in my own room. After eating, my father would get quite drunk, and then suddenly bust my door open and start to scream. Stuff like: "You're stupid! Get out of my house!! OUT!! GET OUT!!"
At first it got to me. I just sat there and took it. My siblings are about 10 years older than me, they were not around. I was alone with this. Sometimes I left the house and came home late at night. Just walked around in the countryside. Nowhere to go, 14-15 years old.
But after some time I didn't care anymore. My father didn't allow me to lock the door. But I found a key and locked it anyway. He just got madder. He didn't say anything when he was sober. Then he would have dinner and get drunk and then do the bust-open-the-door-and-scream-trick, whenever I forgot to lock the door.
I think something happened inside of me by this point. I started to laugh when he came in. The old idiot, thinking that screaming drunkenly at his teenage son was going to change anything for the better. I would get up and destroy something, like a shelf, to scare him. He'd be scared. He would back off. I got really mad and banged the door. He would leave me alone until the next night. He never beat me. I often had dreams of beating him up or strangling him. In school I made drawings of me murdering him. For school assignments I starting writing about killing people. Blood.
My mother smacked me on the head a couple of times, when she was drunk. She denies it to this day.
When I was about 15, my mother starting coming to my room at night. I would go to sleep, and she would come into the dark room and come to my bed and start to kiss me. A lot. And then, she would climb into the bed. To snuggle. Drunk and stupid.
It was not sex. However I'm not sure that she didn't touch me sexually. May have blocked it out. There seems to be something in the back of my head, somewhere.
I was not turned on by these things. After it had happened a couple of times, I started yelling at her. To get out of my bed, out of my room. She didn't. She would say "don't you know how much I love you?" and "you're our favorite child, the special child" (I have 2 older siblings). She would try and convince me to let her stay. And sometimes she'd fall to sleep. Or keep saying "I'll just lay here, it isn't so bad, is it? Is it so bad?"
One time I just pushed her out of the bed, onto the floor. She started laughing like a maniac. Drunk.
This went on for at least some months until I threatened to beat her up. I threw stuff at her when she came in the room and screamed at her to get the f**k out. She finally cut it out.
When I was about 16 I had a girlfriend. She came to my house. We had sex and experimented with sexual activities. I told her that when my father came home in the afternoon, he would always knock on my door and then immidiately open the door. The knocking part was only to warn me that he was going to open the door in a second. My girlfriend didn't believe me.
That same night I told my father to wait until I had said "enter", before he would enter. Several of my friends had parents who did this, so I thought it was fair. The next day my father knocked and opened the door immidiately. I got mad and told him off. He said he was sorry.
The day after, my girlfriend visited me. She was giving me oral pleasure when I heard my fathers car pull into the driveway. I told her: "He's gonna open the door in a second." She said "Didn't you tell he not to?" I said "yeah twice, but he'll do it anyway." She said: "No way, it would be totally disrespect."
I heard my father walk down the hall. He knocked once on the door like always and opened the door a second after like always.
I remember the sound of my member, as it came out of my girlfriends mouth and hit my stomach, as she turned her head in disbelief.
I hope these stories didn't affend anyone. I write them hoping that someone will comment and let me know that these things are out in the open. I've shared them. Never really did before. Have lots of other stories of my parents being utter idiots, however these are the sex-related ones I can think of. |
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