My mother not loving me and saying it to me outloud at an early age. It was a very heavy burden no child should ever carry. Also she would put on a show for other people going on and on about how much she loved her kids and how she loved being a mom while continuing the abuse behind closed doors. It was maddening.

Taking myself to therapy as a young adult so I could heal, saved my life.

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Nitpicked and poked fun at almost anything i watched/read/did/listened to, and anybody i interacted with, to the point that I sometimes struggle to find enjoyment in things, typically prefer to have a wall behind me and eyes on an entrance (they liked to sneak up and surprise me), almost exclusively use headphones for any form of audio, and struggle to form friendships with anyone.

Mom divorced my abusive alcoholic father and married a man from England. I was 14 but she figured I had the maturity to know it would be ok if I stayed with him instead of moving to England with her and my brother. I was angry at her because I was 14 and dumb. She left me in the US and gave me no end of guilt for making my choice once a grew up a bit and realized I made a mistake. Once she and her husband moved back to Oklahoma I took a position in California and now I’m guilted for that at the age of 42 because she can’t see my daughter whom she never bothered to spend anytime with anyway because of her constant depression about having married another different kind of abusive man.

My parents split up when I was in my 20s. They both moved out of the house I had grown up in. My girlfriend and I stayed and rented it from my dad, planning to buy it from him as soon as we were financially stable enough to get a loan.

Fast forward a few years to me having a well-paying job and my girlfriend almost being done with university. Things were looking really good. On my 30th birthday, my dad abd his new wife suddenly started pestering us about the house being too big, too expensive, too whatever for us to the point of ruining the whole evening. A week later I got a letter from him, telling me I had six months to get the money or get out, strongly suggesting the latter. Never even got a reason.

Public humiliation and forcing me to distribute my hard earned savings to people watching, because neighbourhood kid threw an apple at a rich persons house and I was nearby and didn’t do anything.

Edit: I was little vague, due to being in a hurry.

My father has a tendency to brown nose anyone with wealth or influence. The “rich person” in question recognised me and complained to my father, about me and my friends, even though the apple thrower wasn’t even part of my social group. My father decided please the neighbourhood with public demonstration of “taking responsibility”.

Everyone present was horrified and nobody took my money. That infuriated my father even more, but in the end he was satisfied that I was crying. Lesson learned. Matter was never discussed again.

That “lesson” wasn’t the only one, but that one stuck in my mind.

My parents weren’t bad parents. They did their absolute best to raise me coming from trauma themselves. They still don’t even know they suffer from it. Their trauma made me feel like I was not good enough. However, I will pass intrinsic value and compassion on to my kids.

Mom took the door off my room due to her not trusting me? Smoked a lot of weed but never ever in their sight or in the house. All I did was sit on my computer in my room. Absolutely horrible experience.

She ended up putting the washer and dryer in there with me too…

Birthed me. Then they had the audacity to celebrate it each year there after.

My mother passive aggressively bullied me regarding potential love interests to the point I was absolutely terrified of even mentioning boys from my class as dealing with her unfounded teasing was unbearable. This didn’t help at all with my romantic relationships, I was always lacking in support in the area as I turned the topic into a taboo during my adolescent years, at home in particular.

As for my father it’s not much what he did but what he didn’t do. He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met, he is good at managing his finances and networking yet he never gave me much support or pushed me to achieve anything in these areas - when he did it was briefly in the form of criticism. Again, this also snowballed into an adulthood problem I’m still grappling with.

Their struggles with alcoholism led to me becoming an alcoholic, which nearly killed me multiple times, and did end up killing my mom before she was 60.

Fortunately I got sober a year before she passed. I’d have almost certainly drank myself to death had I not.

Their utter disregard for me as a person, as demonstrated in particular by the sudden violent outbursts and beatings, was not a great time. Probably the worst, though, was when they disowned me. They apparently didn’t like what they had made.

I love my parents. We did what we could to get by. Sometimes thet means pushing the expiration dates on food. This lead me to associate meat with illness. I ended up becoming a vegetarian at a very young age; before I knew what that even was. Meat still grosses me out to this day.