DaddySatyr
Posts: 9381
Joined: 8/29/2011 From: Pittston, Pennsyltucky Status: offline
|
I can speak to this issue (sort of) from both sides. I was involved with a lady whose son was diagnosed as ODD. ODD, in particular, is a nasty business that really is a bad thing in that it is a made-up diagnosis. The APA wouldn't allow persons under 18 to be diagnosed as sociopathic so "ODD" was born. These children are dangerous to themselves (the child to whom I refer was determined to put his hands through my glass coffee table), others (he hit his mom and me, on a few occasions, when in a rage), and are emotionally self-destructive. My heart went out to this kid and I did everything I could but, eventually, he had to be treated and that meant a hospital. From the other side (this could get long): My mother attempted suicide twice, in her teens. She was my grandmother's "problem child". When she was 21, she married a man who was 16 years her senior and had been married 3 times, before. According to her(it's not like mom never lied), he was physically, emotionally and sexually (to her) abusive and he was a drunk. Dad was 6' 5". he was half Cherokee and half German-Irish. What this meant was: he liked to drink (Irish). He couldn't hold his liquor (Cherokee) and he didn't like anyone that wasn't exactly like him (German). When mom re-married, she married another drunk (I was 5). This guy never wanted me around. I was part of a "package deal" and he was looking to go "a la carte". My mother allowed him to be physically abusive to me (she was glad he wasn't beating her) and they both shipped me off to live with different relatives for years. When I was accepted to a very prestigious high school in NYC (Mom and step-dad lived in NJ, at the time), it would have required my living with my uncle (who really is my "father" and male role model). It was at that time that mom and step-dad decided that I needed to live with them, full-time (which effectively meant that I couldn't attend NYCHSPA). I was 14. A short time before my seventeenth birthday, mom and step-dad made life impossible. I was paying $100 per week as "room and board" (it was 1981). I worked full time, went to school, full time, and was the only child (out of three) that ever had any chores to do. I worked 1500-2300 and by the time all the end-of-shift duties were performed, I couldn't get home until almost 0000. They decided that if I wasn't in the house by 2315, the door would be locked. I was not given a key. When I said that I would just give up my job, their reaction was: "How are you going to pay your room and board?". Three weeks before my 17th birthday, I moved into my own place. They were pissed. They reported me as a runaway because they heard that I was doing alright. The cops would bring me to their house and I would promptly leave, again. When I was older and married, I was home on leave and visiting mom and "dad". Dad was ill (He died of COPD). My youngest (then, about 3 or 4) was coming off a little sideways and mom slapped his face. I asked her to come into the living room with me and I told her that if she ever hit any of my sons again, I'd see her ass in jail. My younger half sister who was the youngest female cop ever in the state of NJ, assaulted me and pulled her weapon on me. We were having a heated discussion but she was the one that got physical. My mother called the cops on me (to protect her little princess). When my step-dad died, mom was dating a new guy within two months. The first thing this guy did was to advise me that corporal punishment was much better for my son than reasoning with him ... opinion dismissed. Sorry but I like to tell this story. My youngest (my third) was almost 10 and "Bill" was going on about how boys need a little ass-whoopin'. I asked "Bill" why he thought this way and he related that his first wife's son was ... I said: "Wait! Her son?" He told me that it was her son from her first marriage. I asked how old this boy was when they'd married and he said that the boy was 16. I thanked him for his expert opinion on dealing with pre-pubescent misbehavior but said that I would continue with my child rearing in my own fashion. The last straw was when my uncle (mom's brother, whom I referenced before) brokered a "sit-down" for my mom and me. We went to her house and I listened for 90 minutes while she set out a list of greivances (Manhattan glass in hand at 0930). When it was my turn to speak she shrieked over me so that nothing I said could be heard. I walked out and my uncle left with me. I looked at him and said: "What just happened there?" My uncle is fiercely loyal to his family. He taught me the true meaning of the word. He looked at me and could only manage a shrug. That was the last contact I ever had with my mother. It was 08 DEC 2000. Is my life better? Well, actually, while there's no way to know for sure, I can't imagine that it isn't. Today, my "family" consists of people that I choose to have in my life. I like to have as little drama as possible. While drama can never be completely avoided, it can be lessened. Sure, there are people in my "family" that have their own issues and there are some little bits of drama going on but on the whole, all of it exists built on a foundation of love and mutual respect. Yes. No family is better than a toxic family. I have the T-shirt.
< Message edited by DaddySatyr -- 9/22/2013 8:18:39 AM >
_____________________________
A Stone in My Shoe Screen captures (and pissing on shadows) still RULE! Ya feel me? "For that which I love, I will do horrible things"
|