I was born and raised in the shitwad redneck hoods ( literal hoods in Kentucky) of Kentucky. FML
My shitface dickwad fucktard dad was a redneck cousin fucking drug dealing junkie. FML
My dumbass mom was stupid enough to allow this mother fucker to impregnate her at the age of 19 while she had college and everything else going for, following becoming pregnant with four more children across my father and two other men. FML
My childhood and teens consisted of dealing with douchebag dad shit like, being restrained to a couch while he farted on my face, threats of breaking my neck if I crossed his parental boundaries, smoking pot in the house throughout my entire life, disappearing from my life like he was fucking David copperfield( which was great becuase I didn't have to deal with his shit), and dealing drugs and making me and my mom and siblings a target for other douchbag drug dealing junkies like himself to pick on. FML
Yes, I was born and raised in the hoods of Kentucky, where one of my family members was eventually pinned in the slammer for seven years for cooking crystal, on a multi million dollar Kingpin level. FML
But you know what, I honestly couldn't bring myself to give any fucks anymore, that's all nearly two decades in the past, and, despite my ranting, it no longer affects me.
My question for the forum is where did you grow up and what was your period of growth like, as in your childhood,teens, and even beyond that if you are still growing.

Well that was... colourful. My life is boring in comparison.

Yeah... the NY suburbs in the 50's and 60's were nothing like that.

My life is the exact opposite from yours. I grew up in the lake shores of Lake Erie in Cleveland Ohio in a gated community I was very sheltered as a child. I've always been small and delicate for my age. Born at 26 weeks premature, I was my mother's pride and joy. I was kept inside most of my life I really wasn't allowed to go outside and play much, I had severe asthma and weakened very easily. So when my mother worked at night I usually snuck out during the day. It mostly consisted of me climbing out of the window. Something that would not have been possible if we did not have that old Victorian support by pillars and a wrap around porch. I never did make it far either because my cousin Patricia would rat on me or because somebody would notice that I was missing and they'd find me out of breath in the garden.

my father who never believed I was his because of my red hair and freckles left my mother for a younger woman when I was about six. which is odd since my father's family is from Cuba and he's mixed himself even though he's very dark-skinned. We've had sporadic contact over the years, each meeting with a new stepmother. Occasionally he fakes having cancer for attention I'm not sure what that's about. The last time he remarried he actually be married a wonderful woman named Aurelia. They had adopted two girls named Leah and Kayla and I adore them. She left him about three years ago and now he supposed to be in Texas with his cousin Lois.

My mother remarried when I was nine, well my stepfather adored me he did have a gambling problem which caused us to lose our house. And not be able to pay all my medical bills when it was found out that I had hydrocephalus. My mother got upset and came to stay here with my aunt could move here a few years back when she had her first baby. My aunt move back to Ohio but we stayed here.
I never had very good vision but after my surgeries when I was 13 it was discovered that my vision was going downhill. I started out as legally blind, with stronger and stronger prescriptions for glasses along with slant boards and magnifiers. until I was about 16 1/2 and I started losing colors. They all sort of muddied together. Just after my 17th birthday I was able to recognize day from night, but that's about it.

My mother spent the first few years of my blindness panicking and trying to find surgeries for me to try. Not of which any of my doctors advised. So it 19 I started cane training. Then I finally went to college, only to be told I needed to take a break to learn Braille for a math course. I'm still not very proficient in braille yet I have the reading levels about oh I'd say a first grader. So I won't be able to go back to school for another few years until I finish Braille.

I couldn't imagine losing my eyesight, but there are more modes of experiencing the world that just may reopen your eyes and the worlds if you choose to share your experiences down the road. My brother has frequent hearing loss and usually gets surgeries on his eardrums every couple of years, but he learns to roll with the punches quite well.

(December 30, 2013 at 9:30 pm)Belac Enrobso Wrote: I couldn't imagine losing my eyesight, but there are more modes of experiencing the world that just may reopen your eyes and the worlds if you choose to share your experiences down the road. My brother has frequent hearing loss and usually gets surgeries on his eardrums every couple of years, but he learns to roll with the punches quite well.

I could try but usually the deaf in the blind don't rub together very well. Mostly because of communication reasons. But blind culture and deaf culture have two very very different agendas. The deaf and hearing-impaired usually strive for exceptionalism and to set themselves apart from the rest of both the disabled community and those without disability. We in the blind community to get tend to try to include everyone, most in the deaf community think that we are trying to hard to get acceptance that isn't going to happen. But I believe in trying to bridge the gap so I say why not. If your brother ever wants to communicate with me you can go ahead and give him my email. [email protected]

(December 30, 2013 at 8:38 pm)Belac Enrobso Wrote: I was born and raised in the shitwad redneck hoods ( literal hoods in Kentucky) of Kentucky. FML
My shitface dickwad fucktard dad was a redneck cousin fucking drug dealing junkie. FML
My dumbass mom was stupid enough to allow this mother fucker to impregnate her at the age of 19 while she had college and everything else going for, following becoming pregnant with four more children across my father and two other men. FML
My childhood and teens consisted of dealing with douchebag dad shit like, being restrained to a couch while he farted on my face, threats of breaking my neck if I crossed his parental boundaries, smoking pot in the house throughout my entire life, disappearing from my life like he was fucking David copperfield( which was great becuase I didn't have to deal with his shit), and dealing drugs and making me and my mom and siblings a target for other douchbag drug dealing junkies like himself to pick on. FML
Yes, I was born and raised in the hoods of Kentucky, where one of my family members was eventually pinned in the slammer for seven years for cooking crystal, on a multi million dollar Kingpin level. FML
But you know what, I honestly couldn't bring myself to give any fucks anymore, that's all nearly two decades in the past, and, despite my ranting, it no longer affects me.
My question for the forum is where did you grow up and what was your period of growth like, as in your childhood,teens, and even beyond that if you are still growing.

I was born, and mostly grew up, in my current municipality, San Diego. My biological father suferred a stroke related to Agent Orange exposure in 1982, and died in 1990. My mother, during those years, was the only one raising me. As well, he was trying to take care of my father. At times, we had his hospital bed in our house. At other times, he was in convalescent homes. My mother did her best, but was overtaxed, and his parents were of no help.

My mother remarried in 1990, and our family moved to Tampa Bay shortly thereafter. This was very shortlived. Under 2 years. We all had problems down there. Me, the religious nuts (Baptist), them, just homesickness, I think. So, at the end of that time, they moved back to San Diego County, and I finished up high school in Arizona, near Phoenix and Scottsdale. This was my fourth of four high schools. There were valid reasons for all this change, but in retrospect, I'd probably just raise my kids to go public. One, larger, school throughout high school.

Not sure what else you are curious about, but I have lived in 7 locales in 6 states, having moved back to where I started from the northern suburbs of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

My father beat me or threatened to beat me with a belt for just about anything. We got along better when I was young, but later on he got more and more abusive because I wasn't as smart or hard working as he wanted me to be.

We do not get along much at all nowadays. Friends and family will remind me that he loves me, but just the fact that anyone needs to remind me that my asshole dad loves me means something is a little wrong.

I wish he'd drop dead sometimes. Or at least mellow out by a large factor. My grandmother doesn't like him either, but my mom does, and he loves my mom. Not that he doesn't yell at her from time to time. Friction between them usually happens when she wants him to do something, but he insists on doing something else.

My upbringing was odd, at best. I lived in seven states by the age of ten. My dad had been diagnosed with lupus before I was five. My parents got divorced when I was twelve. My dad had his first stroke when I was fifteen. We moved states away from my dad when I was sixteen. My dad got divorced from my stepmother the following year. By seventeen, I had turned into the parent; my dad, the kid.

My parents barely communicated after the divorce, but my sister and I were expected to be at his house, an hour away from home, every weekend.

When my mom told my dad she wanted to move us to a better environment, my dad basically said, "fine. Move 'em. Just don't expect any kind of support." I was sixteen, and began to support myself, including paying some rent at my mom's. I didn't really have a choice, as my dad made it clear we weren't welcome to live with him.

Despite it all, every time my dad had a stroke (about six major ones, five alarming ones, and countless mini-strokes [we'd be on the phone, and he'd just cut out]), I jumped-to and, within hours, no matter where I was in the world (even when I was living in Oz), made my way to him to take care of business.

All of this was undercut by religion, racism, homophobia, and crappy influences. I remember, when Jackie Hill asked me to homecoming when I was a sophomore, my dad asked to see his picture in the yearbook. I happily complied, thinking, "he's so handsome! I can't wait to show him to daddy!" when my dad looked at me in the eyes and said, "you are not going anywhere with this boy." I don't know why I knew, but I knew immediately why I wouldn't be allowed to go out with Jackie Hill. It was because he was black, and my mom let me go to the dance anyway.

I actually have a lot more to say about all that and more, but it's probably not in my best interest. My upbringing was what it was, and it was pretty awful for the most part. For years, I've been striving for forward motion, and dwelling, for me, doesn't help. I do think everyone's stories are great, though

G golly I felt like the typical spoiled rich kid next to the rest of you guys