My mother is loud, controlling, and angry. My dad is quiet, controlling, and persistent.

I plan to fly on my own as soon as possible.

It ranges from o.k. to unpleasant. It depends on my moms mood. When she's in a good mood, she's not a bad person, but when she's in bad mood like today...she frightens me

my father is taking practically everything i do "wrong" as a personal offense,everything i fuck up is interpreted by him as an underlying massage to criticize him personally, like i only yawn in the morning in order to annoy him (ok, i admit im am excessive yawner but still), etc. he just wont realize that my problems have nothing to do with his up-bringing, he blames himself for me being recluse and coverts this in anger, which results with me feeling worse about myself than i already do etc etc. recently,the nagging from him gets worse and worse on daily bases . his view on the world is very bland, he generally a very simple person.

well my mother told me to go and die today and i havn't spoken to my father in eleven years so you can pretty much guess

I've known soooo many people whose parents were absolute dirtbags in so many different ways.
My heart goes out to those of you on here who have lived through those bad situations, as well as my faith that you will persevere in spite of it...

My parents once hired a private investigator to monitor my sister's boyfriend when they were suspicious of him. Though their suspicions were justifiable, it has nonetheless instilled in me a very heightened sense of guardedness (i hate the term paranoid because it sounds delusional .). So i'm very guarded, and they PRY and pry and pry. Particularly mum. Too many damn questions. She was rather overprotective which I think has a lot to do with my hiki tendencies today... Father is nice person, but have to spend A LOT of time with him and it's quite draining as he is extremely gluttonous and a conservative glued to Fox news ughghgh.
I think they generally have a low opinion of me because I'm no longer very social and have done my fair share of recreational drugs. Maybe if i were a boring average sheep person like my sister they'd like me more.

My father is obsessed with money, very much. I think he really not care for me, I do not like him. This is especially evident when he comes home after drinking well. It makes my life very much to me will never allow me to live as I want, it irritates me. With him I always had, and I have a lot of problems. He has a nursling my brother. Mom too religious outlook on life has standard, to have complete control over me. Like something from me wants special. I want to live apart, in my case it is not real. Create some extra problems that I can not give advice. Whatever it was that simple, settled anywhere and live there myself. I have a bad relationship with my father, a little better with my mother. I do not trust them, and my distrust proved justified.

My relationship with my parents is basically very good.

My father and i have had our problems on and off, and there have been lots of times when I have felt that he isn’t there for me, wouldn’t spend time with me etc. He was there in body only, while his mind seemed disinterested, and in my childhood, that hurt me TBH.
At times strained, at times almost indifferent, at this point we get along okay, and have for a while.

My mother and I on the other hand have always gotten along really well, and she has always felt more like a friend than a mother. She (and my grandfather) are the only 2 people I have truly loved in my life, and they are the ones I would confide in throughout the years. We’d play and talk for as long as I can remember, and we still do.

That doesn’t mean we don’t fight like every one else, of course we do, but for the vast majority of time, we get along very well, and we always return to speaking terms after some housr/days/weeks (depending on how big the fight was).

It also helps that all 3 of us have some of the same takes on things: We all love animals, none of us are very social, none of us are religious at all, and we all have a somewhat open mind.

Bad.

Here's the romantic story of How My Parents Met:

My father was addicted to heroin, and my mother dealt with it.
Says it all, really.

My mother left us when I was 2 (because she wanted to fuck some other guy, and my father didn't like that). I remember her showing up for my third birthday, but never again after that.

I went to see her once when I was 16.
My father was with me then and she mostly talked to him, they argued about money and then she threw us out after 3 minutes.
She didn't remember my name.
(That fucking hurt like nothing else before. I got drunk, with my father for 3 days after that. I don't remember those days, because I was either blacked out, vomiting or drinking.)

I have three half siblings, but I don't think I'll ever meet them again (my mother didn't tell them who I was when they saw me and send them away). Sometimes I wonder who they are and wish I could save them from that heartless bitch.


My stepmother was a heartless bitch aswell. She beat me regularly abused me and humiliated me. Then she stole my fathers money and practically everything we owned when they divorced. She blamed the fact that their marriage failed on me and my sister.

My father never really grew up. He is like a child, he loves me and my sister in a way, but is too self-centered to do much for us or even show it (for example when my sister tried to commit suicide the first time he seriously thought she'd done that just to piss him off.)

He used to make fun of me when I was smaller, and didn't care that I was bullied at school or that my stepmother was abusing me because ''what doesn't kill us, only makes us stronger''.
Later he used to always tell me about all his ''troubles'' (srsly? What is an 11 year old supposed to do about them?) because I was his only friend. Then he started telling me that he'd probably commit suicide and offered me and my sister a 'family-suicide' several times.
I always took care of him instead of the other way round, and I really resent the fact that I was never allowed to be a 'carefree child'

The only substitude for a father I've had was a child care worker at a protectory. We became friends (even outside the protectory) and I did love him like a father, but he died in a car crash after a few years.

Now that I've learnt not to regard my biological father as a 'parent' and not to have any expectations of him (which was hard. It sounds easy, but it took years of effort to emotionally distance myself from him for real.) our relationship is okay.

This is an insightful --- and extremely generous --- observation. Like, a lot of people would've probably just said, "my father is an emotionally abusive asshole." Seems like you've grown up, at least.

I've had the same kind of thoughts about mine, but it was nowhere near your story.

I cannot call them bad.

But all they believe in is god, marriage and family, politics, following society's trends to the letter and socializing.

And having a kid who does not believe in god, who had no interest in dating.marriage/family nor socializing, and who thinks that putting any human in power over another is ludicrous given human history, they felt they had to force me into those things. And when I rebelled by either running away or doing something to get kicked out, I got whipped and punished.

My parents are ok - I have no major complaints. I'm not emotionally close to them, or anyone really but yeah. they often accuse me of being hostile or quiet. I can live with that; I like it that way even.

"unpleasant, they make things worse for me. " - basically not bad people, but their ways of expressing it might not have been as good as their original intentions.

My father has always been like a rootless stalk of grass, because of his own past and struck with the obsession to make everyone around him avoid his own mistakes. He always wanted the best for everyone, however was rather hardheaded when it came to define what this would be and sought to make his best general reality, even when it had to be done by force.
My mother always was a rather dependent and guilt-ridden individual, because of her circumstances, as she had MS for already 12 years we she got pregnant and couldn't therefor care as much as she wanted.

In regard to the matter of much my relation to them influenced my current way of living, I'm unsure.
I've always been a rather unusual child and also their first, so didn't really know how to handle me. They however quickly noticed that I always was pretty cautious and observant of my surroundings and also good at learning things on my own, so they merely adapted to it.
By the time my mother fell into depression, my father escaped into alcohol and my sister was born, I came to be in charge of her, what taught me how to care for people and how to "get things done".

The last time I heard anything about my father is over 6 years ago and the phone calls from my mother that I receive every now and then are burdened with her feelings of guilt; therefor I'm personally better off without contact.
If it got something to do with my "hiki tendencies" or not, maybe it didn't lead me to this way of life, however in the first place it enabled me to do so.

My father was forced into having another child he didn't want. (second marriage) He was already an old man. He never took any interest in me, always treated me with indifference and some hate. The way i see it, and feel it, i was merely a problem in an old man's ending life. I spent 20 something years with the shadow of my fathers demise hanging over me, when he finally died (from old age basically) i was an extreme relieved. It was over, at last.

My mother threatened my father she would kill herself if he didn't want a child. She had a nasty past, her growing years where filled with abuse, misery and very short minded country idiots. They feared god enough to pray and attend church but not enough to stop drinking, and physically abuse their children. Death threats at the dinner table were considered a normal day. Some days my grandfather would actually try to make them real.

So as a scarred person, she was not even a mother. She is a horrible person, she tried to destroy every few sparks of life that came my way. So all my life i was verbally abused, beaten, threatened, humiliated, pushed down, locked, restrained, controlled... and if that wasn't enough they also decided to come up with lies to spread around to every person i knew, and also everyone they knew... friends, family or complete strangers, it would not matter. Sure they gave me food, and clothes, and toys, and shit, and even if they fucked me on the eduction bit, they did half tried. What about love, friendship? The least stability or happiness?

Ever met a kid that is like a saint? That was me, i've done nothing wrong all my life, mostly in fear of their reaction. No drugs, no booze, no girls, no bad friends, no getting home late, no bars or clubs, no problems with anyone at all. School and home, that was me.

There is so, so, so much more... but bottom line:

I've completely cut relations with her, it's been years the last time i laid eyes on her. But i want her dead. Not as revenge, but as relief, i hope she disappears from the face of the fucking planet, alone and in pain for all she did, not only to me but to those around her. It sounds like revenge, but i would finally feel free. I'm not going to pretend i forgive her, that i'm an adult, that i understand her problems. Fuck her, she's just a crazy bitch that spat me out. She is not my mother.

Long text is long. Sad story is sad. Monster NotYou is monster.

My relationship with my parents is complicated. I've been told many times that we're more like siblings than parent and child, especially when it comes to myself. But for some reason, even when I'd get angry as a little kid, I never once thought that I disliked them. There are some things that I'm bitter and angry about when it comes to my mother, but hell, they've tried their best. I see them as being very human and very fragile. And perhaps it's because of that that I love them so much.

My step-father is another story, however. I hope he rots.