what was your childhood like?

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    Mar 08, 2011 6:54 PM GMT
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    Mar 08, 2011 6:57 PM GMT
    confusing, ruff, lonely, traumatic, and trustless. But, growing up i thought it was normal
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    Mar 08, 2011 7:24 PM GMT
    what was your childhood like?

    Privileged yet painful.

    I was spoiled beyond belief, in ways most guys here cannot conceive. My clothes were bought only twice a year, in the most exclusive New York Fifth Avenue stores, after endless hours of fittings over days. They arrived at our home, weeks later, after all the alterations had been completed. As a result, when at age 20, in the US Army, I went to buy my own clothes in ordinary stores for the first time in my life, I hadn't the slightest idea what my sizes were!

    My home life was mixed. My parents were distant, each with their own careers and always away. But I was allowed great independence in their absence, learning how to take care of myself. Nannies I had, and sent away to summer camps, but I learned to depend upon myself, and no one else.

    In the mid-50s, my Mother developed a hyperthyroid condition, that nearly killed her. It caused her to become abusive to me, violent & unpredictable. She often beat me.

    That period was very bad. And after she finally had surgery in 1957 that corrected the problem, my Father and other family members told me that I had been the cause of her illness, the result of my misbehaving. How do you think that makes an 8-year-old feel, being blamed for personally nearly killing your own mother?

    So a mixed childhood, of pleasures & punishments. I revere the memory of my late parents, BTW, my Mother totally blameless for her illness, and my Father not understanding it.

    I have wonderful memories, yet lots of pain. But hey, I'm a big boy now, and you just get over it, the proof of your own strength. On the whole, I have no real complaints, and lots of compensations. I was wealthy & pampered, so I have no right to object.

    Now about today, poor & struggling, that's a different story. But regarding my childhood, no, I won't file any complaints. That would dishonor my parents, whom I admire greatly, whose own success I failed to match, which is my own dishonor, however they may have mistreated me without knowing it.
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    Mar 08, 2011 7:30 PM GMT
    My Mom and stepdad raised me since I was 6 months old. There were a lot of battles between my Mother's side of the family and my Father's side of the family. I can remember a fight my Mom and real Dad had on the porch of my Grandmother's house while they were both playing tug of war with me... It was the most traumatic experience to be torn apart by "love". My real Father left me for good at age seven.

    I was raised by my Step Dad although when my little sister came along, my step dad molested his own daughter. I turned my Mom onto the truth and our little family was destroyed... For me it meant being ripped away from a Father figure once again.

    My Mom gave us everything... Trips every weekend to the beach in the Summer, trips to the mountains in the Winter and discipline that left us no choice but to do better in school (I was impossible).

    I was a very problemed child and if it wasn't for her strict punishment I would never have graduated. I thank my mom today for trying so damn hard without having a decent man to help her.

    I had many girlfriends while growing up. We use to build forts in our backyards and pretend we were married. It lead me one day to actually steal my Mom's first HUGE diamond wedding ring with my real Father and I gave it to a girl I was attracted to. I hate myself today for ever doing that to my Mother and Father.

    My Mom was GREAT!!! She helped me with my addiction to speed (meth) while working two jobs to raise me in a house that was so beautiful. That house was taken away because my Mom finally had to divorce my second Father and the nightmare had only begun.

    My childhood was not normal but, because of my Mom's love for me it was beautiful and True... I would never trade her in for ANY OTHER MOM!!!! EVER!!! And I thank my real Father for abandoning me because he didn't want his drug addiction to involve his own son's life.

    Funny because I have become a product of both parents and my heart tugs at me when it comes to others that claim abuse with no real understanding of why such abuse happens. The answer is to forgive and the best way to do that is by putting yourself in your parents shoes. YOU CAN FORGIVE!!!!
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    Mar 08, 2011 7:50 PM GMT
    Mine was privileged as well but I was a bit 'messed kid'


    Near Deaf till age three and because of that my parents didn't know how to handle me and I had initial problems of coping...Stuff I rather not get into.

    Dad didn't/doesn't really get me and his frustration comes out as abuse (verbal and physical and more verbal now)

    Mom gets me up to certain point .



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    Mar 08, 2011 7:56 PM GMT
    Here's a song I wrote on the subject written on Skid Row Los Angeles:

    Seven

    Pearl gates will never open
    these skies with hinges broken
    No candlelight that once gave
    the vestige from this empty grave

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's pride
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    I've tried to give up and not let go
    the seeds that I could never sow
    Footprints in the sand wash away
    even on their way to Sunday

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's crimes
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    Written by Stuart Lanning Jr. (2010, All Rights Reserved)
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    Mar 08, 2011 7:58 PM GMT
    sometimes funny, sometimes painful.
    Happy because I was very good in school, sad when I got home and had almost nothing to eat until my mom came home in the evening.
    Happy when I was with my friends, sad when I was seeing my father. Up and down, up and down... icon_smile.gificon_sad.gif

    As much as my dad didn't care about us, even more my mom took care of me and loved me.
    But I am still alive and healthy so I have nothing to complain about :-)
  • BardBear

    Posts: 533

    Mar 08, 2011 8:18 PM GMT
    My Ma had a rough go of the seventies. A time of Womens' Lib, you'd think she would have been at the forefront, but, you see, my father had passed away from lung cancer in 1974. She did what she had to do, not because she wanted to or to prove a point.

    I was a mere four, my older brother was eight, when Dad died. She was determined to not give us up to our grandparents; she was going to raise us herself. She held three to five jobs in the process--so raising meant I had to learn how to cook and do laundry for myself. I was a pretty good kid-I was never at a want for anything. She had me signed up for Big Brothers of America and I learned all the standard guy-stuff. How to throw a football, fire a gun and catch a pop-fly.

    Many of her jobs came and went. She was a dancer and was always working with this show or that. So I also learned alot about the arts. Just not formally.

    I was never at want for anything. I think many took pity on us and there was always a handout or a donation at the right time. She eventually remarried when I was 12, it seemed I was the only kid with then two parents as the eighties' divorce rate was pretty high. He was a good enough guy. Really into cars. He nutured my love of vehicles.

    What does that mean? Not sure...you'll have to just get to know me!

    Peace,
    Bardy
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    Mar 08, 2011 8:55 PM GMT
    It is not about how you suffered but, rather how you were raised to survive this long... Give credit where credit is do because blaming your life upon your parents is JUST WRONG!!!!
  • Webster666

    Posts: 9217

    Mar 08, 2011 9:26 PM GMT
    Isolated.
    I lived in a 21 room mansion, on 190 acres of land.
    My mother left.
    My father was in the house, but he took no part in raising me.
    His mother (my grandmother) cooked and cleaned.
    I couldn't wait to get away from there.
    But, after my mother left, it was quiet. I liked that.
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    Mar 08, 2011 9:36 PM GMT
    peripatetic. Books were the only constants that travelled with me.

    We were exposed to a lot of the world, We usually lived off base so we had one foot in a typical middle class lifestyle, while the other was in a world of military deference and privilege of rank.

    Where some keep contact with high school or college buddies, I keep books.
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    Mar 08, 2011 10:37 PM GMT
    5ebastian said
    UPRYTE saidIt is not about how you suffered but, rather how you were raised to survive this long... Give credit where credit is do because blaming your life upon your parents is JUST WRONG!!!!


    I love my parents to death and I know they did the best they could but how you develop as a child largely deals with the environment. My parents are strong and survived 30 plus years of marriage ... to me they are the most honorable and admirable people on the planet.. I just dont think that they were aware of the toll it took on us. everyone's family is slightly dysfunctional and I know for a fact that my dad had it worse but I really wish that things were different and that I had a happy childhood.


    I use to blame my entire life of failure on my parents being children raising children... But, they too had to grow up too fast and that wasn't fair to any one of us. Give them a break... The 60's are now repeating itself!
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    Mar 09, 2011 2:23 AM GMT
    UPRYTE saidHere's a song I wrote on the subject written on Skid Row Los Angeles:

    Seven

    Pearl gates will never open
    these skies with hinges broken
    No candlelight that once gave
    the vestige from this empty grave

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's pride
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    I've tried to give up and not let go
    the seeds that I could never sow
    Footprints in the sand wash away
    even on their way to Sunday

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's crimes
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    Written by Stuart Lanning Jr. (2010, All Rights Reserved)


    there was a forum topic about this song I think.
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    Mar 09, 2011 2:26 AM GMT
    ....it sucked....bad.... :i
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    Mar 09, 2011 2:27 AM GMT
    pretty good until I realized I was gay.....then it was a daily struggle......keithicon_neutral.gif
  • needleninja

    Posts: 713

    Mar 09, 2011 2:32 AM GMT
    i got picked on and i never really caught on to it being a real big deal. so yeah.... :^
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    Mar 09, 2011 2:34 AM GMT
    35467-mommie_dearest.jpg
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    Mar 09, 2011 2:49 AM GMT
    Up until 6 it was pure magic. A transitional period of 7, 8, 9. There was no magic at 10 and on.
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    Mar 09, 2011 3:36 AM GMT
    Ariodante saidUp until 6 it was pure magic. A transitional period of 7, 8, 9. There was no magic at 10 and on.


    there will alway be magic in those brows.
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    Mar 09, 2011 3:42 AM GMT
    Oh man it was horrible! Well taken care of, but way over medicated, lonely, and over sheltered.
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    Mar 09, 2011 4:28 AM GMT
    dekiruman said
    UPRYTE saidHere's a song I wrote on the subject written on Skid Row Los Angeles:

    Seven

    Pearl gates will never open
    these skies with hinges broken
    No candlelight that once gave
    the vestige from this empty grave

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's pride
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    I've tried to give up and not let go
    the seeds that I could never sow
    Footprints in the sand wash away
    even on their way to Sunday

    No statue like the one left bleeding
    If God should strike the lies I’m reading

    I've known since the age of seven
    it's not my Mother's darker side
    Raven fell from heaven
    for this spirit that never died

    I've known since the age of seven
    I can't blame my Father's crimes
    Sand dollar bills cost me brethren
    But, I was too young to decide

    Written by Stuart Lanning Jr. (2010, All Rights Reserved)


    there was a forum topic about this song I think.


    Yeah, I posted a topic in the Arts section on my lyrics... I've been writing since I was eight years old.
  • needleninja

    Posts: 713

    Mar 09, 2011 4:32 AM GMT
    SexyN3rd saidOh man it was horrible! Well taken care of, but way over medicated, lonely, and over sheltered.


    yeah i can kinda relate to that. :^
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    Mar 09, 2011 5:37 AM GMT
    Hmmm...

    My dad was replacing my baby bottle with his cock at an early age. I don't have any recollection of this (from memory), but when I was 6 with my mouth gagged, and my hands & feet tied up in the closet of a motel room as my dad was getting paid to allow another man to have sex with me, I overheard him saying "Jake's been sucking my dick since the time he was sucking his thumb". That comment has always stuck with me.

    Then when I was 8 my dad sent me to a military boarding school, but it was not your ordinary military school. The main objective of this school was "let's find these kids pain threshold(breaking point) by torturing them, so we can see what they're really made of". I just remember crazy things going on, like being put in this isolation chamber upside down for hours at a time until I felt like blood was going to explode out of my eyeballs and my brain was going to fall out of my head. I remember being put in this underwater tank, and not being allowed to come back up for different lengths of time. I remember passing out all the time and waking up not remembering what happened before I passed out. I remember being able to do amazing feats right after being tortured, such as making things move with my thoughts/focus, and being able to fly out of my body and meet other kids in the military school in this world outside of my body. I mostly just remember being abused though and studied by the white lab coats.

  • needleninja

    Posts: 713

    Mar 09, 2011 5:44 AM GMT
    JakeByTheLake saidHmmm...

    My dad was replacing my baby bottle with his cock at an early age. I don't have any recollection of this (from memory), but when I was 6 with my mouth gagged, and my hands & feet tied up in the closet of a motel room as my dad was getting paid to allow another man to have sex with me, I overheard him saying "Jake's been sucking my dick since the time he was sucking his thumb". That comment has always stuck with me.

    Then when I was 8 my dad sent me to a military boarding school, but it was not your ordinary military school. The main objective of this school was "let's find these kids pain threshold(breaking point) by torturing them, so we can see what they're really made of". I just remember crazy things going on, like being put in this isolation chamber upside down for hours at a time until I felt like blood was going to explode out of my eyeballs and my brain was going to fall out of my head. I remember being put in this underwater tank, and not being allowed to come back up for different lengths of time. I remember passing out all the time and waking up not remembering what happened before I passed out. I remember being able to do amazing feats right after being tortured, such as making things move with my thoughts/focus, and being able to fly out of my body and meet other kids in the military school in this world outside of my body. I mostly just remember being abused though and studied by the white lab coats.



    ......yeah i got nothing on this one.....
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    Mar 09, 2011 5:53 AM GMT
    Generally:
    Adopted at birth, never had a problem with it.
    Parents divorced when I was 6, never had a problem with it.

    Diagnosed with ADHD and tourettes early on in elementary school. I got stuck in the class for developmentally challenged kids. I was also overemotional which made me an easy target for bullies. I never had many friends, I don't speak to anyone that I knew in elementary school and very few (if any) people from high school.

    Came out at 14 (beginning of high school), never had a problem with it.
    Maybe the occassional homophobic comment, but nothing too serious.

    I was diagnosed with clinical depression around the time of my coming out. The depression has been my most difficult struggle by far, and continues to be most days.


    Family:
    My parents have always been fabulous, loving and caring. I realize now that I was a bit of a spoiled brat when I was young, but luckily I grew out of it and learned to appreciate what I've been blessed with. I tell my parents that I love them every time we say goodbye on the phone.

    My older brother and I fought for my whole childhood. He eventually moved in with my dad, went to a different high school, and went off to college. I didn't speak to him much after I was 13 because he distanced himself especially from me and eventually from my parents. He's come back around though and is now living with my mom again, and trying his best to be part of the family.