Does It Ever End?

I don't remember much of my childhood, pretty much 95% of what happened before I turned 13 has dissapeared.
My father was emotionally and occasionally physically abusive to me and my brother as well as my mother occasionally. He would degrade us, shame us, belittle us, you name it.
My brother and I grew up praying he would one day decide not to come home. I recall telling him a few times to please divorce my mother, because it was clear he didn't care about us.
He spent most of his days after work and on the weekends grabbing his fishing poles then heading off to the lake until dark...those were the good days. Most every other day we walked on egg shells to try and not provoke him into yelling at us or spanking us because we pissed him off.
He would manipulate my brother and I into going fishing with him, then he would just yell at us for making too much noise or lecture us the whole time about whatever he was unhappy with us over at the time.
We were terrified of my father. He would threaten dismemberment and a beating with the removed body part...if he was wasn't funny to an 8 yr old. It was serious...and up until after I moved out and got married, I was positive he would kill me and bury me in the desert if I messed up.
Me and my best friend were pretty much team abused by our fathers, we were both told we were ugly and needed to fix it by the others dad as well as our own. I spent many days as a teen scrubbing my face till it bled to try and get rid of the acne he was too cheap to get a dermatologist for. His advice was to use a scour pad to scrub harder...and I did. I even had thoughts of cutting the skin off my face in hopes that it would grow back perfect and pretty.
He forced me to have long hair (until I was 16 and my mom cut it out of sympathy for me), but he got angry if it didn't stay perfect. As a kid I had thin stringy hair, not easy for a kid to manage when it's long. It was always getting tangles and matts from playing. So he would insist he comb my hair after I showered until it dried. It was painful as he ripped the comb through my hair. He called it father/daughter time...I hated it.
He was always belittling the clothes I wore...which most of it my mom picked out for me to make sure he would like it (that didn't work out). When I was allowed to choose my own clothes it got worse. He was insistant that girls were supposed to wear dresses, especially on Sun. But I was always more comfortable in jeans. I was called a ***** and a **** for wearing anything he didn't like, even if it wasn't revealing.
My father is manic depressive and now that I'm older I see that that is what caused the whole thing. His lack of knowledge of his own problems and some bad doctoring from my best friends dad, who prescribed him anti-depressants on a whim, didn't help.
My father has since appologized for the way he treated me and now makes it a point to always tell me I am beautiful...but it hurts to hear those words...where were they when I needed them?  I don't need to hear him say it anymore...I don't care about his opinion of my physical appearance anymore. I am numb to feelings of love or hate to any extreme.

My mother was no help either, she was an enabler and pacifist. She would comfort me by saying to ignore it and move on. I only have memory of her standing up for me twice and she got hit for it. She taught me that it's just better to take the abuse and move on...which I still struggle with to this day. Both my parents taught my brother and myself that children dont have a voice, they are to be seen and not heard. If we back-talked (aka tried to explain ourselves), we got hit more.
My mother was never there for me to talk to, because no matter what my father would say, she would stand up for him and tell me to love him anyways. "He's just having a bad day.", was the usual excuse.
My mom was the only female figure I had to look up to...and I saw her as the most spineless and two-faced person I ever knew, still do. She was as useful to me as the appliances in the home...great to get something out of, but absolutely useless as a friend and confidant.
Now that I am older, I am seeing my mother in a much darker shadow. She is bitter, still two-faced, spiteful and full of despise towards anyone she sees herself to be above; which is pretty much everyone.
Just being near her, talking to her...any contact with her in fact, makes me sick to my stomach. She will use tears and manipulation freely to gain sympathy and her way. I have had to hold back from slapping the **** out of her for it on several occasions.
I spend most day's wishing she would just dissapear...horrible thing to think about one's own mother...but I can't take it anymore.

The biggest problem is that my parents still have a death grip on my obediance. My mother especially manipulates, is overly pushy and twists things to make me feel bad and force me to comply with her wishes.
I am almost 30, have been married for almost 8 years and have two kids. I should be free of them. It's not right that I am scared to not obey and comply, even when they can't touch me.

Thankfully I have a wonderful husband who pushes me to be strong and stand up for myself. I still haven't found my voice, but I am taking stands in other areas of my life.
BrokenOneX BrokenOneX
Jan 8, 2013