I am the Drummer's girl.... Final and completed

It was 1989, my thoughts were short, my hair was long FINAL VERSION

I moved out of my parents' house when I was around 17. I know that, looking back at it all, that I was still very young, but I don't regret it for one single second. And my parents? I guess they didn't mind. To them I had always been a nuissance anyway. I was too loud,  obnoxious, not cute enough, a brat, spoiled, sucking out the energy, too lazy, not fun to be with. I was even called ugly by my mum, multiple times. I even started to believe her at some point. 

I know what you are thinking - What parent would treat a child that way? Unfortunately, this was for me a daily thing. I sometimes wondered why my parents even bothered to have children at all, but I guess it was the "normal thing" to do back in the days. Get married, have kids. It didn't really matter if you actually liked children, you just had them and somehow, you learned to deal with them. Or, in my case, somewhat tolerate them. I also think it didn't help both my parents came from families where domestic violence was a common thing. You would think that they would go out of there way to not let history repeat itself, but unfortunately, they never learned how to truly love a child, and this also meant they never learned how to love me. Instead, they turned to voilence.

It might sound harsh, but to be honest, I have come to a point where I don't really care anymore. I used to, Oh boy, how I used to! I cared so much about what my parents would think, and say, that I was constantly on my toes in order just to please them. But once I grew up, and saw that their behaviour wasn't normal, but toxic up to a level where it was genuinly harming me, I decided that I had enough. It was probably one of the best decisions I have ever made in my entire life, and I am still tremendously proud of myself, that I was brave enough to stand up to them. After all, it takes courage to break free from your parents. Leaving home isn't easy, never. I can tell you that.

Was it all that bad? No, perhaps it wasn't, and I'm not saying that my parents are the worst in the whole world, but they definitely didn't deserve a prize when it comes to good parenting skills. There were times when things were ok-ish I guess, but mainly because I wasn't putting up a fight, and basically was acting "non-existent". 

So yes, sometimes it's best when you just don't live together anymore. See it as getting a divorce - you're better off without each other, but it doesn't mean that you didn't share some good times together. Right? Even though I have the hardest time thinking about the good times I had with my parents. Somehow they always seemed to disapprove of my choices in life, and it didn't matter what they were. They disapproved of everything. My clothes, my music taste, my friends... To make a long story short - whatever I did, it was never right as far as they were concerned. And if you're being criticised most of the time, it eats you alive. It leaves scars on your soul. 

My dad was very good at ignoring me most of the time. People always think that ignoring someone is mean, and it is very stressful, but I didn't mind. At least he wasn't yelling at me or telling me how much of a waste of oxygen I was. That I was disappointing him. Nope, I can safely say that by ignoring me, he did me a favour. I didn't have to worry about making smalltalk, instead I just sat there in silence. This "treatment" of his could last weeks, months even, depending on what I did "wrong", I am not joking! People ask me "But how?" And my answer is simply "That's the way he rolled".  The longest he and I didn't talk to each other - I kid you not - is three months. I was fourteen at the time, and it was because I asked him if it was OK to have a sleepover at a friend's house. Yes, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. The audacity! I now can laugh about it when I think back, but I can assure you it wasn't a laughing matter at the time. Still, it could be worse.....

My mother, on the other, she was the mean one. She could make you feel very small with just one look or one single sentence. Like I said - she called me ugly- multiple times, and was very good at humiliating me. I still remember her telling me that she was ever so popular in school, that all the boys fancied her. She then added, with a smug grin "Not that you would know. No one would fancy a cow like yourself" And she would giggle like the mean woman she was. She took pride in her appearance, and she was contantly telling me that "When I was your age, I was so much more beautiful than you". She was constantly showing off as well, showing me pictures of her as a teenager. Yes, she used to be very pretty, she still was, and I looked nothing like her (I inherited my father's features) but her character made her ugly. She was vile at times, and I honestly believe she took joy in humiliating me. It took me years to believe it wasn't me, it was her.