My Parents Make Me Pay For My Room
- Published on: Monday, November 18, 2019
- Hello, I’m Bruce. Right now I’m 21 years old and I’m happy, but just a few years ago I was broke, alone, and homeless. And all of it was because of my Mother…
Since I could remember, my mom didn’t really care about me. We always had some food at home, but that was it... she never talked to me or asked me any questions unless she needed something. She would also berate me if I broke something or talked too loudly.
Once she was supposed to pick me up from school in the middle of winter, but she forgot and I had to walk all the way home because I had no money. I was wet and cold and got sick for several weeks, and she did buy me medicine, but then forced me to go to school because it was too big of a hassle for her if I stayed at home.
t was confusing and painful to me when I was a kid, but I had gotten used to it by the time I got older.
When I became a teenager, I was rarely at home - I was always hanging out with my friends, sometimes for the whole night, because, well, nobody cared if I was at home or not, so I could do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t create any problems for my mom. I was bad at school but I was doing barely enough so that my teachers wouldn’t call her.
I wasn’t hanging out outside all the time, because I wanted to - pretty often, it was because I didn’t feel like I had a home. My Mom always had men in her life, and they would come and go every few years - so it felt like I was just the tenant in a house of two strangers. With my ‘stepfathers” it was like they were literally strangers, but with my Mom it just felt like it.
Well, I was at least thankful to them for not messing with me and for leaving me alone. But this all changed when I was 17 and she started to date an ex-military man, and boy was he strict. He had all these RULES, like specific times I had to come home and that I suddenly had chores to do at home. He was constantly telling me how he would make a MAN out of me and how spoiled I was. I hated him and I ignored his rules.
One day I came home pretty late, and he was WAITING for me, red with anger. I didn’t even get why... I mean, it wasn’t even his house! Anyway, he started to lecture me on how I should obey HIS rules because HE was the man of the house. He was so loud my Mother woke up. I rolled my eyes until he warned me that I would have to leave this house as soon as I turned 18. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at my Mother waiting for some kind of support, but she just went back to their room without saying anything.
He got so angry at me that he made me run laps in the middle of the night around our house, shouting at me at the same time. Mom came out again, but all she did was to ask us to be quieter because she wanted to sleep. Good thing that it was raining, cause nobody could see my tears.
The next few months I was afraid of both being in the house and being out of it. It was just constant anxiety and anger. I finally turned 18 and was waiting every day to be kicked out, but my “stepfather” was feeling “generous,” or to be more precise, my mother asked him to be a little softer. So the new deal was that if I wanted to stay longer I had to pay for my room. I agreed, because this was the only place I could afford right now, any other room I tried to find would cost more.
It was really hard to find a job - I worked at a fast food joint for a while, but I was so miserable with my situation at home that it was hard to talk with people, so eventually I started a job at a factory. It had terrible pay and a terrible schedule but I had no choice, so I continued to work there. It was better than being at home.
Every night I returned from work, my “stepfather” would continue to annoy me with his rules, and my mother would agree with him about how stupid and useless I was, only taking up space. I hated them with a passion and would have cried myself to sleep every night except I was too tired to feel anything.
One day I forgot my keys at home, and after I returned home from a 12-hour shift, I called my Mother to open the door for me, but she said she was out and that I had to wait. I was waiting on our front porch for a few hours and eventually fell asleep, exhausted from work. I was woken up by them returning and being angry at me for sleeping on the front porch, like I was homeless.
They were miserable together and decided to get a dog, because yeah, they needed someone to care about. How ironic that they treated this poor small dog better than me, and by better I mean that they screamed at it a little less often than they did at me...
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