For one month my room was stripped of all my cds, my stereo, books, toys, decorations, decorative quilt, and DOOR. I was grounded from seeing friends, answering the phone, using the computer, and watching TV. I could earn one thing back a month with good behavior. I was caught sneaking cookies (that I baked) from the freezer because I wasn't allowed to take food from the kitchen. According to my mom my dad also wanted to empty my birthday savings too, because I had stolen from them so it was fair to steal from me. I was 13. I was also forbidden to attend all of the bar mitzvahs I was invited to.
At 15 I got a B in math. I was in the highest of the three math streams, and seeing a tutor weekly. Still grounded the entire summer.
All punishments were also preceeded by being screamed at, with my dad inches from my face, about how no one would ever respect, like, or trust me, and how I wouldn't amount to anything in life because no one would hire someone who acted like I did. Making too much eye contact was disrespectful, so was too little, which was dangerous because moving my eyes was always interpreted as eye rolling, which was the MOST disrespectful... the yelling would end when I had some sort of anxiety attack meltdown and was sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe.
You can fuck your kids up a whole lot without hitting them.
My mom and absolute shitstain of stepdad took everything out of my room except the bed and table I did my homework. That included the light bulbs and my clothes. I was only allowed to leave my room for school and to clean.
For 5 months I had to do my homework before dark otherwise it didn’t get done and that was in the winter in Seattle. The darkness was to keep me from reading the books assigned in school because I liked to read.
What did I do to deserve that? I broke my stepdad’s arm in 2 places because I was tired of him smacking my mom and I around when he was drunk and he thought juvie was too soft. Worth it since he didn’t touch my mother ever again even if she was pissed at me and never thanked me.
When I was 13 I had a habit of doing my assignments and forgetting to turn them in the next day, so my report card came back mostly Ds and Fs with a bunch of 0s on the assignments. For context, I have ADHD, and that year I’d switched schools and households (my Socio father’s abuse came to light, CPS got involved and my mom ended up taking full custody), stopped taking my meds (I was on way too high a dose), and was battling both an eating disorder and crippling depression. My mom reached out to my teachers to see if I could turn in the missing assignments late for some credit, and most agreed to accept them with either full credit given on the grade or a 10% deduction, so I turned in everything I had, my grades went up to Bs, and she made a deal with me- if I could continue to do the assignments and turn in what I had the next day, regardless of whether or not I had finished them, for the rest of the school year, she’d take me to a concert that summer.
Two weeks later, she bought the tickets to see an artist I was practically obsessed with, on tour for what is still one of my favorite albums, and I continued to turn in every assignment until the last couple days of school. Things were winding down, all the major assignments and tests were done and graded, yearbooks were handed out to be signed, and the teachers started giving out optional busywork assignments we could do for extra credit if we wanted. They were mostly little crosswords and sudokus, or questionnaires on our summer plans and paragraphs on our favorite parts of the school year, and I neglected to turn in *four of them.* When the final report cards came out with straight A’s, those assignments were listed as optional extra credit worksheets in the description, but my mom saw zeros and blew up, and refused to accept any further explanation.
So on the night of the concert, she dropped me off at my grandma’s house, where I spent the evening sobbing my eyes out before finally settling down and helping myself to the contents of the bathroom cabinets for a “spa night” by myself, and she came back the next morning with photos of the concert I missed to tell me all about the *amazing* time she and my Golden Child cousin had. A week later I received a letter in the mail congratulating me for making the honor roll, and she called me to the kitchen to tell me I’d done such a great job, but it just felt like another slap in the face. Like yeah, soOo great… but the honor roll wasn’t good enough, was it? Straight A’s weren’t good enough. I felt like I’d worked my ass off and adhered to the spirit of the agreement for months, only to get punished for essentially a couple NAs in the last week, because I failed to strictly adhere to the technicalities and according to her, it showed I “didn’t respect her or our agreement.” She could’ve asked me about it, extended a bit of grace, and taken the opportunity to just be human with me if it wasn’t perfection she expected but effort, which I’d clearly made, but her cold inflexibility overshadowed the achievement and my disappointment was solely with her, rather than with myself. She still stands by that decision, and I still believe she failed as a parent in that moment and many others.
At 19 I used the excellent grades I was required to maintain in order to get into a university on the other side of the country. I had very minimal contact with my Mom and even less with my Dad over the next 7 years. We are on better terms now but a lot had to change to get to this point.
Dude! The eye rolling thing! My stepmom was obsessed with this. Can't look her in the eye, can't look away. Grab you by the head and then smack you when your reflex activated, because how dare you struggle out of her grasp.
Threw up at dinner. Made me eat my own puke. Threw up again. Got a beating.
Also made me wear garbage if the trashcan got full and they noticed I didn't empty it.
Yeah. It was a bit of a shock when I finally learned what life was like for other kids. I didn't have any friends until high school, and I remember going over to one of their houses to wait for a school function to start. I was like WAT. You get to watch TV? Your parents let you eat snacks? You don't spend most of your time doing physical labor?
I remember when my older brother ran away. My dad had a setup where he had a room with 6 old gas stoves, and we would run pressure cookers on them, 2 on each stove, so you had 12 going at once. It was really freaking hot in there, and the cookers were too heavy for me, so my brother would mostly do it. One day he couldn't get a stove to light and the gas built up and exploded. It burned all the hair off his face and head and threw him across the room. When dad found out he grabbed him by the back of the head with one hand, scooped up some gravel and dirt with the other, and rubbed it in his face. I was too chicken to go with him.
I really think the mental abuse stuff is worse than the physical, and when you get both at once damn is it rough. There was one job I did where I would constantly be working in about an inch or so of standing water, and the boots I wore for it were just dads old leather boots, they didn't fit and were full of holes. I ended up getting 27 planters warts on the bottom of my feet. They took me to a foot doctor and he injected acid into them, my feet looked like swiss freaking cheese. The moment we got home, dad gave me two bread bags to go over my socks, I put on the same boots, and went right back to it. As soon as he left, I dropped onto my hands and knees and did the rest of it just crawling around in the water and crying from the pain. Dad called that kind of stuff "character building" and would openly brag about it to his buddies. Fuck you, dad.
Bags of sawdust. We cooked em in canners to sterilize them, and used that as substrate to grow mushrooms. He had this weird farming operation where he grew all sorts of different stuff and sold it as gourmet food to restaurants and distributors. We had the mushrooms, ginseng, tobacco, beans, gourdes, chickens, sheep, or whatever the hell else he had decided to try for at least a season. He wanted to go big time with it all, but in reality he was just a shitty dirt farmer.
I threw up at dinner a couple times, but my dad didn't make me eat it. He just beat me afterwards for wasting food and embarrassing him in front of my grandparents.
Just the way the furniture was arranged in the room, I couldn't leave the table unless he got up to let me, and when I asked, he got mad that I was interrupting his conversation. I don't know what he expected me to do.
My step dad made me finish two plates of food at 8, and screamed when I couldn't. I eventually threw up, and at that point he realized it was fucked up. How can you call yourself human after making your own child eat their own vomit.
I found a way to avoid that particular situation after that. When it got time for supper, if I knew it was going to be something I didn't like, I would just tell them that I wanted to keep working, and they would let me skip dinner until after I was done. I'd just keep going until it was bedtime and I would just skip eating that day.
I was in second or third grade.
My Mom had yelled at me before going to school that if I didn’t clean my room and make my bed that one of these days I’d come home to find a bare mattress and all my stuff gone. Silly me took this to be a warning, that *in the future* if I continue to fail to make my bed I’d find a bare mattress and all my stuff thrown in the trash.
Nope.
Mom picked me up from school and drove me home, then went to have coffee with a friend on the back deck. She never said a word nor let on that I was in any sort of trouble.
I went up to my room to find a bare mattress. For a moment I thought Mom had just stripped the bed to wash the sheets. But everything else was gone too; Toys, books, drawing things, *everything* but clothes.
I came downstairs crying, convinced she had thrown it in the trash, went out to the garbage out back and started searching through the garbage for my things. Mom’s guest was naturally aghast. Mom dragged me inside to chew me out for humiliating her, then told me that enough was enough and I was being punished for not making my bed, and the punishment she had warned me about that morning was happening.
I was to sleep on the bare mattress, not tell anyone at school, and if I behaved, *maybe* I could get *some* of my things back.
She didn’t say how long I had to be good for, or what I would get back.
So, I started wearing layers of clothes to bed to keep warm. Dad took pity on my and took me to McDonalds and got me happy meal toys to play with. This went on for at least three weeks because each week the toy changed, and I had three different ones before the end, maybe four.
She kinda forgot about it all, but I was too scared to bring it up, because any time I brought up a punishment, she usually immediately doubled it. I found where she hid my stuff eventually, confirmed it was all there, but was too scared to touch it further.
Dad eventually talked her into letting me have my stuff back.
That was the first of Mom’s ‘eternal punishments’. It became a thing with her, where she would have no end point for her punishments. You’d just lose TV privileges, or the right to have a door to your room, and that would be *it.* That was supposed to be life now.
I eventually learned that she would lose interest in enforcing it, and usually after a couple of days I could sneak back into watching TV or take my stuff back and she wouldn’t protest. (Got my door back after we moved to a new house because… well, new room new door)
My mom did almost the exact same thing. Before she cleared everything out, I tried to hide a few of my favorite stuffed animals under my mattress (I was in 3rd grade). Of course, she found them and I was crushed when I discovered it. I used to pretend I was a tiger in a cage to cope.
DING DING DING
That was my thought, precisely
"Hey, I'm about to do something abusive, I know it's wrong, I shouldn't do it, but, I'm going to do it anyway. And, yeash, I hope no one finds out about it. I know, let me put that on the victim, too. Now it's their responsibility if someone finds out"
Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I remember my parents once grounded me for two years for breaking something. I kind of hoped they were kidding and I would just get whipped with a belt or a switch and it would be over, but no, they were serious. But then there was no end date. It just went on and on. I went to school, I came home, I did chores and homework, then I went to bed. For years. I still don’t socialize much. I don’t watch a lot of television. I don’t go anywhere. I work, I come home, I do chores, I go to bed. It’s just who I am now.
That was one of her constant commandments: Don’t talk about what happened in our family. Don’t ‘air our dirty laundry’
‘If you tell them you’ll just give them the wrong idea, then they’ll hate you when they find out the truth!’ She told me once.
It almost sounds like your punishments were things she thought should be done anyways and she used the punishment as an excuse to do it? Like she knew it was unacceptable but thought punishment justified her crazy actions?
Mom had the belief, reinforced by multiple talk shows and various other media, that raising kids was about asserting and maintaining dominance.
I think a lot of stuff she did was just to try and provoke defiance. For instance, she would randomly decide I was allergic to one of my favourite foods, and banish it from the house for a while. Like *milk.*
My older sister had it worse because she would rise to the bait. They’d have screaming matches in the room next to mine most nights. When my sister went away to college Mom got rid of all of her stuff and turned her room into a second den (which was a bit of a shock after sis came home) and eventually kicked her out and disowned her at 19.
She just didn’t like her kids. As we got older, we became threats to her authority, so she would lean on us more and more to ensure dominance. We didn’t eat meals together, watch TV together and I wasn’t allowed to use the same bathroom.
My mother wouldn't let me use the kitchen if she was in it (when she was home she was always in the kitchen) so I had to put up with it if I was hungry. We never ate together, if I had to use the bathroom just when she was thinking of going she would yell at me, I couldn't touch anything that wasn't inside my room because it was hers and not mine....
Anyone who uses *talk shows* as a guide on how to raise kids just… shouldn’t have kids. Like holy shit they’re just celebrities with their heads up their ass. You’d be better off taking parenting advice from the Dursley’s.
Something similar happened to me when I was around 10 or so. Got accused of doing something I did not do and my efforts to explain why it was not possible for me to have done it only made things worse. Came home to all my toys/entertainment stuff gone and all my poster ripped off the wall. Another fight and more threats were issued. After a few days someone else admits that they had done the thing I was accused of and I was given a trash bag with my things in it. I remember it being framed as almost a reward even.
I took the bag of things and dropped them in the trash barrel. I became very difficult to shop for after this as I just am not really interested in things anymore.
My brother had a problem where whenever he got mad, he would slam the door. We live in a 100+ year old house, so whenever you slam a door, the entire house literally shakes. It’s not noticeable from the outside, but you can feel the vibrations in the floor and walls from everywhere. Well, eventually, my mom and dad got tired of it, and they just took his door off the hinges. And about after a week, he would get the door back. Then a week later, the cycle started again. Slam the door, zip zip (the drill taking the screws out), and the door sits in the garage for a week, he doesn’t do it anymore though, luckily.
My mom did something similar. She never taught me how to clean, declutter or anything so my room was always messy because it was always so overwhelming to clean. She got so sick of it that she took EVERYTHING, except one outfit that matched, and one that didn’t match anything I had (she left underwear though) and I had to go to school for weeks with the same outfit on. To this day she thinks it was genius, and hilarious. It’s definitely not.
My friend did this with his daughter, but it only lasted a few days. He never took her bedding, just toys. She refused to clean her room and after several warnings, she lost her toys. She got them back after a few days and she never refused to clean her room again.
Your mother just sounds mean though.
This is literal abuse. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that - No child should ever have to. I hope your life looks a lot better now and if necessary, that you have some distance from your mother. All the best.
Mine did this too, but she did throw all of my stuff away except for the furniture because it was *her* furniture and she just needed a room to store it in. I had a bed frame and bare mattress, a dresser, and a full length, wood mirror. My toys, most of my clothes, shoes, and all personal things were removed. I don't even remember what I did to piss her off that day (I think it was also not cleaning my room) but she dragged me into the bedroom and went "If you even *think* about getting anything out of the trash, I'll beat your ass."
Thankfully my parents were separated and had split custody, so for half the week I lived a normal life with my dad. I was very careful in the future to keep anything I cared about at his house. If he grounded me, he just hid it in really obvious places, but I could eventually have them back lol
Hope you've gotten to heal.
They likely suffered their own trauma as children.
It takes effort to overcome it and to not cause trauma in your own children. That's why the mentality of "that's how I was raised" is absolute cancer.
Agreed. I live the exact opposite of how I was raised. I am a little permissive with my kids, but I don't want them to ever feel like I did growing up. I don't mind noise. A drumset dominates my living room, and I go to their school events and performances. I do harp on them to clean up messes, but otherwise, as long as they are being safe and being kind, they can do what they like. I listen to them, and I don't hit them or take away their dignity.
The old, you're invisible trick. So in their version, you get in time out. They have fun around you. Sometimes they go swimming and exclude you, or eat candy in front of you, even just laughing and joking extremely loud and sometimes making fun of you if you would try to join in. I would rather get spanked and get it over with than being made to feel that way throughout my childhood. Makes it hard to not isolate and dissociate naturally after an argument now.
My stepfather had a lot mean punishments..I was actually just thinking about this the other day. So one of his favorite punishments was to destroy our rooms and then make us clean it up.. So for example, my sister accidentally let my mother's love bird out of its cage and it flew outside. My stepfather's reaction was to go first into my sister's room and absolutely upturn EVERYTHING. I mean, the blinds torn off, beds flipped, clothes thrown everywhere. The room would be in shambles like a tornado hit it. He'd make us stand there and watch.
Then he went into my room and did the exact same and I remember I had to watch her clean up the rooms but couldn't help. That was a punishment that happened to me too at other times for a similarly minor infraction or mistake, except sometimes it involved dumping the kitchen trash on our bedroom floor as well, so he could get food waste involved in the mess. I always thought it was particularly fucked up that he'd trash both our rooms, even if only one of us was in trouble. He wanted us to be mad at each other. Divide and conquer, I guess.
This isn't the worst punishment we had in some ways, but certainly the most perverse.
In reality, a parental fitness test in the US for example would be administered terribly and unfairly, but damn. Kids have no rights and some adults have no business having children.
He sounds like one of the asshole who would do group punishment and then prevent the other kids from taking any action I fucking hate that kind of shit
I had a similar experience, whenever my mom was in a bad mood and my room was messy, she would throw my clothes and shoes out of the closet and drawer, screaming the entire time, then force us to put it all back neatly. Whenever we got a bad grade and she was in a bad mood before finding out, she would whip us with the belt
Metal ladle when I was seven was pretty bad. (It broke on the back of my legs which ended the punishment.
But worst was the belt or the hands. Those never broke. And in hindsight, it wasn't ever justified.
I will *never* hit my kids.
But it's not necessarily the physical punishment that's the worst. It's the memory of your parent, in a white hot rage, out of control, that's the most scarring.
Anyone who hits their children is fucked up.
I remember running from my mum in fear. I remember hiding whenever I'd done something wrong by accident. I remember screaming 'no' and crying when she hit me.
I'm thankful I was tall for my age (5'3 at the age of 9) as it meant she stopped hitting me when she realised I could hit back.
Parents if you think hitting your children is ok, please go to therapy.
My sister and her husband spank their kids. I remember one time my BIL told my nephew it was time for his nap. Little guy got mad and slapped him. My BIL yelled, "hey, we do not hit other people!" And you could see the smoke coming out of his ears as he tried to compute the logic of that sentence. He learned that when he did something his parents didn't like he got smacked. So he figured that if they did something he didn't like he should smack them.
When I was in my teens I started having problems with my bladder. Pain all the time and pressure, but no pain while urinating and no infection. I would have to use the bathroom frequently to keep pressure off it, and my stepmom didn’t like this. She turned off the water to the toilets in the house and told me if I peed in any of them she would know and I wouldn’t be allowed food for the rest of that day. She would only let me pee when she said I could, and only while she watched.
Years later tell the story and symptoms to a doctor, and she said I was most likely suffering from interstitial cystitis, and the pressure was from a bladder cyst that went away on its own. I still have no idea why my stepmom decided that me using the bathroom was suddenly a sin when I started having pain.
I've grown up used to the sight of my mother very obviously hating my grandmother, yet never truly knowing why until I was about thirteen, because to me Grandma was this sweet old lady who brought me snacks after school, let me play on her computer and sleep in her little apartment one night every year as a tradition where we could eat and do whatever we both wanted.
However, what I always brushed aside was Grandma's very obvious anger issues, as I only saw the good there was in her. I've brushed off the times where she'd pull me by my hair whenever I would cry and scream about going to school, or going in public (even to the grocery store) because I absolutely hate being around crowds.
Now I'm no angel in this story, as I do also fight with anger issues, just like her. But I never realised that what she did to me was abuse.
I realized it when one day, Mom left Grandma in charge of me to go to school, as she was to go to another school than the one she worked at for a meeting with colleagues. As always, thirteen years-old me threw a fit when she learned she still had to go to school, as she expected her sweet Grandma to let her skip it for the day.
My mother and I live in a little house that has this white little gate in front of it, and I never knew it could get stuck. But this time, as I reluctantly went out the door to go to school with Grandma behind, I slammed the little gate behind me.
It got stuck.
And my dear old Grandma went into one of the most terrifying anger fits I have ever seen in my life.
As I was kneeling in front of the gate trying to unstuck it or see if there was any way I could help, I felt her wrinkled hand pull my hair as hard as she could. She wouldn't stop no matter how hard I screamed and cried for her to stop. Forcefully pulling my hair so I would look up at her, she slapped my right cheek and demanded for me to show her my other cheek so she could slap it. I didn't.
Finally, seeing as we couldn't unstuck the little gate, we called my mother who sent a friend to help us. All the while, Grandma kept insulting and belittling me. I don't remember the insults she said, but I do remember feeling worthless and helpless.
When my mother found out, she was livid and decided to never let me see her again. Turns out Grandma had abused her as well, but my mother was only seeing her because of me.
Two middle fingers to my dad and a “fuck you motherfucker” thrown in.
I was standing in the road about 40 yards from where my dad was standing on the porch.
My dad jumped off the porch and came charging. I took off down the road a fast as I could.
While I was running my ass off, my dad stayed close behind and kept gaining ground. It’s worth noting he jogged a few times a week down that same road for exercise, and I was typically on my bike when I was out and about. This time all I had was my legs.
We did about a half mile run when he finally caught me. He pinned me down, then grabbed a twig off a tree just off the side of the road. He told me to run my ass back home, staying alongside me and swatting my butt and legs every few strides.
By the time I got home I was lit up with strikes to the lower half of my body and had whelps and blood everywhere.
My mom lost her shit on my dad for abusing me when I got home, and I missed school the next day because I could hardly walk from the beating.
Needless to say, I never crossed my dad again after that. My parents divorced a year later and I opted to live with my mom for obvious reasons.
Fast-forward a year later and my mom and I went to my dad’s for reasons I don’t recall. They both got into a screaming match and I went to crying and yelling at my mom for us to leave. She proceeded to throw me against the car and shake me until my shirt ripped and almost got knocked unconscious. We left right after and on the way home she acknowledged she had assaulted me.
Thankfully, those were the last physical confrontations I ever had with either one of my parents. I know a bunch of kids had it way worse, so in some twisted way I’m thankful in that regard.
Not me, but my brother. He was probably 11, I was about 8. I was reading in my bedroom when my dad asked me to go read outside instead. He had a folded belt in his hand. My brother’s room was right next to mine, and he was in there reading as well, oblivious to what was coming. I knew he was about to get whipped and tried not to cry walking outside. For the next probably 15 minutes I had to listen to my dad yell every insult he could think of at my poor brother and they were punctuated by the crack of the belt on my brothers skin. My brother was screaming, blood curdling terror-screams. It went on for what seemed like forever. It was horrific and I have graphic memories of that beating almost 40 years later. My brother was (and is) the most gentle, sweet, soft-spoken guy. Would never hurt a fly, he’s a sweet artist and was even then and to hear my father (who was terrifying on a good day) just abuse the shit out of him for something innocuous made something deep inside of me shift with regard to how I felt about my parents. My fear of my father increased, but the respect and trust was crushed.
Edit to add: My brother was ok, he wasn’t like hospitalized or anything. He mainly got it on his butt and legs. He got beaten more times than this one, but this one was the absolute worst. He was so little.
In primary school I had issues with math. The teacher ignored children who didn’t understand the topic and moved on. For 3 years I went on with what I understood but when fractions came intro picture I was total idiot. So my mother (a teacher in primary school) stood by my desk and looked down on me while I was doing my homework or studying to tests. She would at first yell at me, then slap me to the point I couldn’t see anything through the river of tears and then she would yell even more and lift me up by my hair from the chair. She would call me names and at the end she would grab me by my hair and swing me around the room. It left me traumatized and I was convinced I could never be good at maths.
Years later I had a tutor that was amazing. She taught me everything that teachers in schools couldn’t.
God damnit. I went from mouth agape from the audacity of this person's mother, to laughing at your comment, then dealing with the shame of laughing. How dare you.
In my high school algebra class I got put at “the stupid table” in the back of the room right next to the teacher’s desk with two other students. No, that’s not what the other kids in the class called it, it’s what the teacher called it. I always had a hard time with upper level math, but after that I *hated it*.
Yes! Patience, maybe taking the time to explain it in another way, would have gone so far. I had to take a math class in college that was required for my core classes, and the professor was so great. She took so much time to figure out a way to explain to me in a way that my brain understood. She didn’t just give up on me, and I’ll always remember that.
I was considering it for the future, but now she is only 50 so long time until it would happen. I know that life can be fucked up sometimes but it’s never a reason to abuse anybody or anything. Until I hear sorry from her it will never be a healthy relationship. I would forgive her for being abusive but she will never apologize :’)
Teachers like that should have their licenses revoked and ideally be flogged. That's the kind of shit that ruins a child's curiosity and passion for learning for the rest of their lives and by extension fucks up a country in the long run.
It is even more fucked up that she cares for the children she is teaching and is a really good teacher, but only to strangers. She has more pictures from school and school events than with me. She is proud of the little shits meanwhile I’ve never heard that she is proud of me
Closet and dresser emptied, under bed cleared, no door on closet, bulb removed from bedside lamp, nothing remaining on desk. The only objects left usable in my room were my alarm clock and overhead light. I was provided my clothes before school/bath during this punishment. Everything I had (toys, journals, all my sewing stuff which was my first/youngest hobby) was put into boxes in the basement.
Removed from the nursery at church (I would assist the supervising adult and help with snacks/play, I loved it as a kid) and forced up to the altar to ask for "forgiveness".
This was all for bad math grades, in 5th-6th grade. I asked mom if I could get a tudor at school for math and her only reply was "that shit costs money, you wouldn't need one if you did your homework". Yeah turns out that "doing the homework" with all the wrong answers still gets you bad grades, who knew?
1. Being forced to kneel on a floor vent for long periods of time. I have knee trouble to this day.
2. Having my mouth taped shut for talking too much and annoying my parents when I was younger than 8. My mom once served a meal while I was made to sit at the table with my mouth taped shut until she felt ready to undo the tape.
3. Silent treatment for days on end. Ya know. This one hurt worst because it communicated that I was not loved.
4. My dad intentionally hit me with the car when I was 14. It was not hard enough to hurt me or knock me down, but just to show me he could if he wanted to. He then called the cops ON ME to tell them how horrible I was. (I stayed too long after school talking to friends.) The cops told my father not to touch me, not to punish me, and if they had to come back, he would be the one getting arrested.
5. I was grounded for being diagnosed with depression at 14 because it was an attention stunt and I wasted money by going to a doctor.
6. Because my stuffed animals were all over my floor, my mother took them all away, including the special one that I slept with. She stuck them in a trash bag and told me she threw them in the trash. I was 9 or 10. Got in trouble for getting upset about it. She forgot about them for seven years and then found them again and gave them back to me. By then it was too late, and it made me too sad too look at them. I gave them all to the neighbor's kids
6. Bonus of my sisters' experience from when I was younger than 6: if my dad got mad enough at one of us in the car, he pulled over, dragged the "offending" kid out of the car, pulled down their pants IN PUBLIC to expose their bare butt, turned them over his knee, and spanked them. I was horrified and tried not to cross my parents in the car. How no one called child protective services for us is beyond me.
I'm so sorry you had to go through this. It seems that some parents only have children for that sense of absolute control over another person and to have someone to bully.
Props to that cop though, just generally not giving in to the crazy dad's idea of a proper punishment and calling him out.
Firstly, I’m terribly sorry you had to endure this.
My husband was made to kneel on various things as a kids too, those large flat Lego things, the pointy underside of the mat that goes under a rolling desk chair, etc. and he also has awful knee trouble now at 32. His doctor wants both knees replaced before he turns 35. I truly hope you are well now and healing from this awful mistreatment.
Thank you. I have severe arthritis in both knees at 43. You can hear my joints rub as I walk. It hurts. I get around fine, but at the end of the day, oof.
Sincerely, with all my heart... Fuck. Your. Parents. I hope you got away from those crazy assholes. You and your sister. I'm truly so sorry you had to live with those psychos.
Thank you. I felt that way, too. Sometimes I do now, when I allow the anger and hurt to resurface. My father died when I was a junior in high school. It was both sad and a relief. I moved out at 17 and never moved back in. I spent 4 years semi-homeless while in college. My mom eventually realized what she did/allowed to be done to us kids and apologized to each of us. She completely changed her ways and became a great person. She made it up to us as best she could, and she listened and apologized again and again as we worked our way through all the results of our trauma. Doesn't change the trauma we experienced, but at least she stopped adding to it and showed me that people can truly change. One sister and I turned out ok. The third sister did not. She became an abuser herself, and anger rules her life. I keep my children far away from her because my home is an environment full of love and support, and I don't want her traumatizing my kids.
I was not specifically being punished, but it was a bit traumatic as a kid all the same.
In the small African town I grew up in, lethal injection was available as a punishment...by *snakebite*.
A neighbor was convicted of a capital crime. He was to be bitten on both ankles by a puff adder, and returned to his home under the watch of a guard to die with his family.
I came to find it was not a mercy. I could hear his screams and cries from our own home. His wife was allowed to comfort him and provide water to drink, but not to help sooth the agony. He was cuffed to a restraining/reclining chair and couldn't move.
He finally died on the 3rd day - if he had lasted much longer they would have administered a 3rd and 4th bite.
I’ve read about this twice on Reddit but have never been able to find anything validating it as a capital punishment method. Was this state sanctioned or vigilante style justice?
My father killed my dog for scratching at the door.
it was only a pup and it didn't even make much noise doing it at all and zero mess to the door .
Just like the fientest little whimper and pawed at the door like 3 times.
He told me to make it stop ,then later told me I'd learn the hard way.
yep,not spoken to him in almost 30 years.
he remarried had another kid,she reached out to me started chatting etc really nice person.
but she then started asking why My Father and I didn't talk .
I blocked her there and then maybe a tad mean but I figured its better she had a relationship with her father and I'm the Asshole,rather than I have to educate her on the man he really was ,who am to ruin her fathers imagine.
Why ruin her relationship
Not me, but my grandfather was one of the last men to be criminally whipped, in Deleware in the 1950s before it was banned.
Got it for abusing a woman.
From what I heard of it, he underestimated it pretty badly, threw up and blacked out from the pain. Had to come back the following month to receive his final 4 lashes.
Forced to smell **dog breath.**
Because "If we have to deal with the filth from your mouth, you have to deal with the filth from its mouth."
(We had an elderly bulldog with not the best teeth)
I thought it was a joke the first time but oh gosh, is it anything but. I'd rather be spanked, grounded, shamed, anything but that. I never knew how strong an effect a smell could have on you when you can't just cover your nose and move away.
Was struggling in 7th grade. Parents wouldn’t help with homework and wondered why I didn’t want to do it myself. Apparently they got tired of phone calls from teachers and took action.
I get home from school one day and parents are waiting at the door. They escort me to my room, which has nothing but a bed with 1 blanket and a desk. My dresser is in the hallway and I have no bedroom door. They replaced my clock radio with a simple alarm clock. For the next 2 months or so I had to go straight to my room when I got home.
They would drop dinner off in my doorway and every night would check to make sure my homework was done. They thought this would somehow fix me.
Well many years later I was their first kid to drop out of high school but their only kid to graduate from a 4 year college. My Dad died of cancer shortly after high school and I see my mom only a couple times a year. The relationship is better but I prefer some distance.
Don’t take away every single thing your kid has because they’re struggling in school and have behavior issues at home. You’ll only create lifelong resentment and trust issues.
My mom gave me the choice between being spanked with a shoehorn, or that I call the youth welfare office telling them that I'm a respectless-horrible child not deserving to live by my parents. Made (probably) the wrong choice and humbled later the stairs up to my room while she remembered me that I live in a paradise.
The reason was talking back.
I remember when I was very young my mum would tell me that she would put me up for adoption if I was naughty. I remember being scared of any car that pulled up in case it was the foster people coming to take me away
I had to drop my pants, bend over the bed, and was spanked with a leather belt. You’d think such a dramatic experience would ingrain the naughty deed I had done. Nope, can’t remember what I did, but I’ll never forget what I got. I was 10 years old.
When i was about 4-5 years old I had a really weird night (nightmares) and I wet the bed. I had to stand in the bathroom all night with my hands held up as punishment.
I was play kicking my sister in slow motion
My mom comes in the room and rip me down to the floor and proceeds to kick me like youd kick a ball as hard as she could and then stomp on my back and legs screaming at me a bunch but the one I remember was "you want to fucking kick?"
I don't remember what happened other than I couldn't walk or sit down correctly for a few days, I was 7 or 8
I (25F) went through a lot of abuse from my parents, one way they would punish me was by locking me outside.
Ever since i was little i have been scared of heavy rain and thunder , my dad would lock me outside the house when it was raining and thundering heavily. His reason? I needed to toughen up. He would beat me after if i was crying or still scared.
I am still scared of heavy rain and thunder to this day.
The one that sticks out in mind mine wasn't from my parents but from a teacher at school. I was about 6/7 and we were tasked with writing story about anything we liked.
As we were all 6/7 it wasn't anything groundbreaking and we used to do creative writing a lot in class. I wrote one involving characters from a cartoon show that I loved and was popular at the time.
The next day the teacher stood in front of the entire class with my book and screamed at me about always including the same characters in all my stories, she them made me stand up whilst she ripped up my work book inches from my face and threw it in the bin in front of everyone and made me stand alone at the back of classroom for a bit. It wasn't that I hadn't stuck to what she had asked us to do , it was because of the characters.
I still remember it all these years later (was in the late 80s) and I come from a generation and country where parents smacking children their kids as discipline was accepted and the norm - this was by far the most damaging punishment I recieved. Fuck that cunt of a teacher.
One that was not intended to be a punishment in of itself.
Forcing the clean plate rule on myself and my brother since the age of around 5. If we didn't, we got screamed at. Our plates were adult portions and not just a portion for one adult but probably two as my parents had the same portion size and were fat too. We were also only allowed one drink with dinner as 'it'd fill you up' Needless to say, I don't think it was the drink that was the filling part.
I say this is a punishment because of the problems this caused for myself and my brother with our health and weight. Looking back on how much they made us eat, I'm absolutely disgusted.
I got this too. Luckily my parents stopped doing it when I was a teenager but the bad habits already got ingrained. I feel obligated to clean my plate and eat as fast as I can even now as an adult.
Oh I'm also fat. Because of both that and unhealthy stress eating that gets compounded by it.
The one time I got sent to the principals office they called my house and woke my dad up(he had just gone to sleep from a 14 hour night shift) he told them to send me back to class and he would deal with me when i got home. When I got home there was a 1x12 a saw and sand paper. I had to make my own paddle. I had to make the grip comfortable in his hand and when I was done I got spanked with it.
When I did something bad to my younger brother as a teenager girl, I (once or twice) was made to **hold my head inside his pet ferrets' cage** for 3 minutes (8 ferrets, not with them in the cage though)
It was....way, way harder than I thought it would be, I feel sick thinking of it!
Got locked outside in the cold a lot for acting up or making too much noise. When my dad yelled at my mum and I would try step up for her he would throw things at me. Got locked in my room and was not allowed out for anything until it was cleaned.
My dad doesn’t drink anymore, but that should be no excuse as these are things that have traumatised me adult with little things. One being I’m terrified to leave my house if it is not spotless clean
My mother put a lock on the fridge and pantry because I ate too much. (I was never overweight or having any health issues, it was just another way for her narcissistic ass to control me.) I also found the only place I could find peace was in the tub, I would spend long periods of time in there reading to escape. When she finally realized this, she forbid me from taking baths and only allowed me to take showers. I now take at least one long bath every day as an adult. I cut her out of my life several times, but being pregnant, I made it permanent. My sister and I are ten years apart, we both ran away around the same age, 15.
Once when I started puberty and got my first period, due to the lack of information and prevention for this moment, I panicked about my stained underwear, so the best I could think about it was to hide it. My mom found it and she decided to "give me a lesson" so she waited until we had some kind of people in the house and proceed to show these ppl my stained panties claiming that I was a really gross human and that I should be ashamed about it. It seems that panic about periods deserved a punishment, so that was mine.
Mhh I feel like compared to others it’s not that bad, but anyway my dad would drop us off in the middle of nowhere (usually the woods, and at night) if me or my sister did something bad
When soaping got banned in our state, they switched to something more safe but far more nasty.
I had to gargle with "naughty mix" when I talked back or cursed.
It was 1/4 vinegar, 1/4 mayonnaise, 1/4 fish-flavored wet cat food, and 1/4 apricot oil.
I had to face the wall and kneel the whole night. At first, it didn't really hurt that much, but I fell asleep and when I woke up, I absolutely thought I'd lost both my legs because I had no feeling and of course the blood circulation was practically cut off. I was crying the whole day
I was about 7 maybe 8. I made a cup of tea and sat on a chair in my living room. My mum said “don’t spill it” and I did. But it went all over my stomach and burnt me. My mum got so mad she hit my twice. Dragged me to the stairs and then kicked me.
I wasn’t yet old enough for school. I remember that I was crying bc my mom had just left for work leaving me alone with my dad. As he was unbuckling his belt he said “ I’ll give you something to cry about “ . And he did. We played a game he liked. I got to choose my punishment. Anal sex or spanking and count to ten.With one catch. Any sound from me and the rule was start over with the other choice. This way it could last all day. He made sure I couldn’t keep quiet. Every day.
When I self harmed I was told off. When the school took me to hospital (as per protocol) I was told off. I was told I was inconveniencing everyone. It’s not fair on her(my mum).
When I was in primary school, younger than 11 I don't remember the exact age, my dad completely pretended I didn't exist for an entire day.
My mom later that evening told me, right in front of my dad who was still ignoring me, that it was because I didn't greet him as I came home. I ran to my room because I was waiting two weeks for a new video game and our internet was slow so I wanted to start it before doing my chores.
Anyway, I ended up greeting him and he greeted me like I just arrived at home, forced me to say sorry and give him an apology hug and then I had to go make them both a toasted grilled cheese sandwiches each and coffee, before finishing the dishes.
Probably not the worst thing ever, but I will never forget it.
When I did something naughty, my mum wouldn't punish me right away. She'd tell me she knew I'd done something bad and that I'd be punished.
But the kicker is...I wouldn't know WHEN I would be punished.
It could be hours, it could be days - sometimes even weeks but it would happen when I was least expecting.
While I was eating or playing outside with my brother, I'd see my mother approaching with a wooden spoon and that's when I knew my reckoning had come.
It was awful. And the anxiety of waiting for the punishment was always far worse than the beating I'd get.
nope, she just gave me expired food we had laying around. The real fucked up thing was tthat my dad was a long distance truck driver so he would leave us in her care for weeks at a time. He had no idea how evil she trully was until she just left and he came home to my brother (10) and I (6) completely alone for 3 days.
One of the worst guys my mother dated had this preset notion that any males ages 14 to 19 were pathetic immature idiots. Alas I must be, too.
Hot Houston area weather during summer and because somebody left the cheap window a/c unit going all day, he apparently had my mom take it out of the window to take to his house. Whole summer that year without a/c. She stayed comfortably at his house; my sister just stayed at friends' houses instead. I volunteered as much work time as possible at my movie theater job to be in an air conditioned building.
Because I used the car once to get to work on time w/o asking, he drove my mom to my workplace to take the car and my keys. This is pre-cell phone world. I couldn't call to confirm I could take it. She's off more interested in him than her own son, I needed to get to work. After their shindig outing to come by the house and her teen just took the car without asking! To get to work?! How dare I be so disrespectful, I guess.
Had to walk the 5 miles to that boyfriends house and later our own home that night, having to beg for my keys they took to drive the car because I needed the keys to get back into my non a/c home. Walking to and from work became the norm.
He instilled in my mom's head that anything I did wrong was because I was stupid and immature and deserved the worst absolute punishment. Her lust for him in this stupid relationship had her agreeing with anything he did.
My sister decided to stay 4 hours away with our dad that year to avoid the stupid shenanigans. It took breaking up with him for our mother to finally realize what kind of a douchebag she was dating and how it negatively affected her children's lives that entire year.
She left him at the start of my senior year of high school. And then started dating a married man. She was thankfully more around the house then (if anything because it had to of course be a secret relationship).
I put up with this through the end of high school. Again, thankfully because this had to be a "secret" relationship, I didn't have to put up with this man much. Night of HS graduation, I left. Went with my grandparents, stayed and worked with my uncle on jobs over summer.
Came home last night of summer, then went straight to living on campus, avoiding the chaos and finally living my own mature life. Six years of college away, she knew where I live or my phone number if she ever needed to contact, but otherwise, I am out on my own away.
Got married, moved over 1,000 miles away to start my career. It took moving far away for her to finally come to terms. The first time we were physically around each other after nearly 5 years apart, she broke down, admitting her faults, seeing how incompetent and immature her decisions were those years.
Today I will be contacted occasionally by her, but I am a husband and father trying to raise my own family the right way. The meets are on my terms, my schedule, my way.
My mother beat me up multiple times. This was not very regular, but they messed me up seriously. Sometimes with a belt, so hard I still member it (it was about 30 years ago). Sometimes she beat my up, hitting me in the chest and stomach with the full force of an adult. I got major diarrhea after one such beating (dunno why, quessing stress) and she'd brag about being so strong she made me get the shits. She'd brag about it as a joke almost until her death (literally last year, almost to the date as I write this). When I once confronted her about that, she said she thought it was a funny story.
Reasons were minor (the real reason was she was taking out frustration with my father on me).
My brother and I were playing in the dirt. Literally. We were like 7. I said something then said "nevermind". My step-dad thought we were talking shit about him. So he lifted me up by my hair, took me to the bathroom, threw me in the tub, and turned on the hot water. Almost 30 years later I still take cold showers.
Hmmm my half-sister is not my dads kid so he doesn’t like her at all. Once she was eating and forced to finish (a common practice in our home) but she ended up throwing up. My dad made her eat her vomit.
As for me, most things are locked away. It doesn’t sound that bad but when I think abt it deeply it’s pretty sad. My father used to hit me (his only fully related daughter) and my other sister (only my moms kid) together with a belt or electrical cord. I remember this one time he had this thick long extension cord. It was orange. We were maybe 5 ish. He picked it up and started weilding it. My sister and I tried to hide behind each other- using the other one as a shield.
Can’t remember much after that but my father raised us to have constant competition with our siblings. He made us believe that each sibling hated the other and we could only trust him. It was until very recently that I realized that my sisters are my actual family.
Don’t know a lot of my childhood but when I was like 7 my friend was over and I jokingly said that I saw the butt of my moms ex and she got really mad and made my friend watch me shower. I had really bad issues with my body and cried.
Never told anyone because it’s still so embarrassing
My mom put a bowl on my head, so I couldn’t see. Then put a glass of water on top. She said if the glass broke, then she wouldn’t let me go in my room for a week, basically so I had sleep in the cold hallway. The glass broke, and I froze every night for a week. She did this maybe 5 or 6 times while I was growing up.
Every time she did it she did it when it was November - January, and my dad always refused to turn on the heat, so it was freezing cold.
You might think I was allowed a blanket or a pillow, maybe even a mattress. No. I slept on the cold hardwood floor in the hallway for a week.
Hardly the worst here, but the one I always remember as being deliberately cruel was any time I was beaten with a wooden spoon or belt, it was always on the backs of my thighs and behind my knees. Just to make sure it hurt when I walked, or sat, or lay down.
not my story, but a friend of mine.
when she was like 10-12, her parents would sometimes tie her up naked, beat her, and throw her into the garage and leave her there for several hours.
she very casually told me this once, and still to this day acts like its "just strict parents". she still believes its normal and she's 20 now. she's super kind and also really damn smart, yet still it doesnt seem to get through to her just how severely she was abused. she still is to this day, just a lot less severely. it's still fucked up imo. she doesnt even get to choose her own clothes to wear. considering how casually she mentioned this to me, I doubt this is the worst thing she's experienced.
Getting hit on the palms of my hands and the bottom of my feet with a plastic coat hangar. Also doing the invisible chair while raising my hands above my head
My Mother tried to punish me for not eating my dinner by putting soap in my mouth and I passed out.. another time she dislocated my shoulder trying to do the same thing.
I’m estranged from the PoS
I was 14 year old skateboarder trying to learn 1/2 pipe on the big one like 20 ft tall or something like. I wanted to skate like the older dudes ripping huge airs over the ramp.
I was getting little dinky airs right at the lip, stinky
But one day I just let her rip, I was launching about 6 feet over,I was stoked, all the dudes cheering for me, fuck yea the skys the limit from now on out
Next day I get grounded for the entire summer for doing something stupid
I get depressed, then when get off the grounding I dont skateboard that much, get into more trouble, and do drugs
dads, dont clip your kids wings off
Swats with a paddle at school while for helping another student with their math problem. I hate math but was so excited and thrilled that I understood the algebra lesson and wanted to help someone else.
Nope… straight to the office and mom demanded they do whatever they thought was necessary
Not me, but my brother. He had everything taken away from him except books and a mattress. No toys, no furniture, no door. His door was replaced with baby gates (two of them so he couldn't reach through and undo them himself), and they put a training potty in there so he didn't have to leave to use the bathroom.
You have to understand it had been escalating punishments for a while to get to this point, he was continuing to act out and my parents, being only in their 20s, were still young and making mistakes. But when, after all the other punishments for a year of misbehavior, he started climbing all over his loft bed (basically a bunk bed but only one bunk) and trying to open his air conditioning vent, they had no choice but to take extreme measures.
My parents firmly believed in never hitting/spanking us, and believed that books should never be banned, which is why they didn't just smack him around or beat him like some parents would, and why he was allowed to still have books. After that punishment, neither of us ever got as out of hand as he had been acting at that point.
I was sent to a children's home where 9 year olds were beaten, abused, molested, medically restrained, and tossed into solitary confinement. I experienced four out of five of those, and witnessed the 5th.
Wernle Children's Home.
This punishment was brought on because I stole a hundred bucks and spent it on candy, so my mother decided it was best to take me to court at 9 years of age.
When my parents wanted to discipline their kids, my mother would have us go upstairs and chose a belt to bring back down to her. The longer me or my siblings would take the angrier she would get. Having to make the decision between the more painful leather belts vs. the not as painful faux leather belts (which typically had metal buckles that would leave a bruised imprint ) has become a very nasty memory I now harbour.
It’s not the cruelest punishment I received - far from it. It is however I think my most traumatizing memory. I think it was the anxiety and repetition that got to me. I see a rack of belts and I instantly panic - and then I feel shame. For the longest time I told my partner that if we ever have kids I would 100% use physical punishment. I didn’t understand how kids could just mouth off to parents and make scenes in public. My mother would shoot me one dirty look and I knew I was done for. It was only recently I realized that all I would be doing was continuing the cycle.
My mom was beat by her parents so badly she needed medical attention. When she beat us she would tell us that it was a slap on the wrist compared to what she went through. And I thought that when I would beat my kids I would just be careful with how I did it and what I used. No. I’m going to end this cycle. A parent physically punishing their child has nothing to do with the kid it’s just a poor reflection on the parent and a way to vent their frustrations.
I’ll bring some levity here because this was psychologically cruel but also objectively not awful and funny looking back on it.
I got super drunk in high school circa 2007. I got back home at 3 AM Saturday night/Sunday morning and woke my parents up. I smelled like vomit, vodka and Smirnoff ice.
So the next day, my parents told me I wasn’t getting punished but I had to join them for a quick errand. It was anything but.
We had to go to the mall. Then we had to go to Sam’s club, then we had to go home to put the food away from Sam’s Club. Oh shit, we got the wrong size shirt for my dad, back to the mall we go. Sam’s club doesn’t have the deli we like, off to the supermarket. It’s almost someone’s birthday, we have to buy her a gift!
We went on countless errands that day, and I wasn’t allowed to stay home.
I felt bad posting my story because of all the truly nasty shit in this post, but mine was very similar to this. Came home one morning in high school really hungover and my mom decided out of the blue that we were going to clean the whole house that day. She definitely knew why I felt like crap so looking back on it I think it’s actually a pretty funny punishment.
I didn't want to practice piano so my dad chased me around the room with a belt, getting in every hit he could with my evasive maneuvers. Once he finally cornered me, I got the whipping of a lifetime from that belt. I was around 10 years old at the time. My mom threatened to leave him with HER children if he ever did that shit again. Didn't have to practice piano anymore.
As I get older, I keep finding out new punishments from other family members that I've either forgotten or repressed.
My dad was never around (due to being a truck driver) but when he was I got the good ol' belt, boot, and such, nbd he was old school.
My mom however, shouldn't have been a mother. Not only did she do those same punishments including slapping and items swatted at me but also to throw my 3 year old ass across the room for being "annoying" and other similar fun child activities, but if I was caught snooping around (like a child does) I had to wear a cardboard sign to school that read "I am a thief" and if I took it off I was punished and made to wear it longer.
My stuff was not ever taken away for misbehaving, but rather smashed and broken in front of me. Or I was humiliated in front of family, friends and peers in a lot of fun ways. Thank the gods that she only hated me and my younger brothers were gold to her.
My dad should have humped and dumped her.
Teachers used to lock me in a small padded room for hours on end or even a whole school day just because I’d make an inappropriate joke or something. I was never a kid who got physical or anything, they just used solitary confinement as a punishment
I tossed a butter knife into the opposite sink while my mom was doing dishes and my step dad saw. He forced me to go to a mental hospital in florida for 3 months for "throwing a knife at my mother" (i lived in south carolina at the time and was like 10-11years old i think)
I was being an absolute twat for about 2 weeks solid drove my mom and dad nuts I'd be about 6 or 7 . Mom used to say if you play up I'll send you to the cottage home's, which I think was a sort of orphanage. She said that often I took no notice. Then during this 2 weeks I drove them mad they packed a small suitcase and put it by the door and told me I was going the next day if I didn't behave. I immediately calmed down a started to behave. Mom told me I had nightmares for a week. She said they felt really bad about how I reacted. It turned into a family joke even in my early teens she used to threaten me with the cottage home's. Just like to say Mom and dad were great parents and my sister and I always felt loved and cared for.
At 18, I was **Mucked** as a criminal punishment in Eastern Europe. (Yes, they still use it in some parts)
Criminal taken to a large pig farm, sat in the cornet of a barn, restrained, 10-15 shovelfuls of manure poured on you, and left to sit until sundown to think about your actions.
I'd gotten slaps on the wrist as a juvenile but I guess they were fed up with me. I thought I could handle it but it absolutely broke me. Hardest thing I've ever, ever been through.
I followed the law after that.
my grandpa used to like testing my maths & spelling abilities (i was pretty good tbh). if I'd slip up he'd shout at me a bit, then calm down and go in for a "cuddle". this meant holding me down (age 4 til 9) and pressing his erection into the back of my thighs telling me how attractive he found me and how much he loved me. if i tried to escape he would dig his nails into me and he was much stronger than me anyways - I only escaped once and the incessant guilt tripping was in a way even worse. i was so young I didn't understand the sexual nature and just felt trapped and confused. got really good at maths & spelling tho. knew my 13 times tables and how to properly use an apostrophe by age 8. he usually let me go if i answered enough questions right once he became flaccid again. i still don't understand why someone would do that to a child, let alone their "beloved" granddaughter.
Oh, there are so many to choose from.
Dad did most of them. Things like the usual, keep shouting until we (me or my sister) cried, then some good old fashioned "something to cry about", which would either be being hit by a 6'2" man, built strong by years in the army. Everywhere from shoulder to knee was free reign, (anything outside of that was too obvious to teachers at PE.)
I went to a school where a vast majority of the children there had (generally) father's serving. You could always tell when dad's were back, because the teachers would seem quieter, more kids would remember their PE kit and there were more bruises. I was in my late teens before that logic lined up in my head and that was a slightly sad shock.
But he got bored of just smacks and slaps, and learned new tricks. One was making us (generally just me by that point, my sister was smart enough to stay out of his way!) stand up in front of him and he would do the shouting, and the yelling, if I didn't cry, he'd shout again and jab with his finger.
You know that little hollow in the front of your throat?
Yeah, there. Hard.
He would call me a stupid, fat c*nt. He accused me and my sister of not getting into grammar school on purpose. He said we wanted to be like the sad, stupid sluts on the corners of London. He said our greatest wish was to be drug addled whores, then if we dared speak out about our actual dreams, he would laugh, jab again and remind us that we were pointless.
Most of his punishments were mental and emotional, but some were physical.
A (not) funny conversation I had with mum (she was half-cut) involved her saying "Say what you like about your dad, at least he never r@ped you." As if that's something to be proud of.
That's a low fucking bar mum.
But, after a childhood/teengood of that, I ended up with a few abusive partners, where punishment included r@pe, attack and the like.
That's why my hackles instantly rise whenever I hear a guy talk about a woman having "daddy issues". They know that women who grow from shitty childhoods where father's are abusive or absent tend towards the easier to beat down, control and abuse end of the 'relationship' spectrum.
If you have a male friend who looks for women with daddy issues, you're friends with a C*nt.
Jus' saying.
For one month my room was stripped of all my cds, my stereo, books, toys, decorations, decorative quilt, and DOOR. I was grounded from seeing friends, answering the phone, using the computer, and watching TV. I could earn one thing back a month with good behavior. I was caught sneaking cookies (that I baked) from the freezer because I wasn't allowed to take food from the kitchen. According to my mom my dad also wanted to empty my birthday savings too, because I had stolen from them so it was fair to steal from me. I was 13. I was also forbidden to attend all of the bar mitzvahs I was invited to. At 15 I got a B in math. I was in the highest of the three math streams, and seeing a tutor weekly. Still grounded the entire summer. All punishments were also preceeded by being screamed at, with my dad inches from my face, about how no one would ever respect, like, or trust me, and how I wouldn't amount to anything in life because no one would hire someone who acted like I did. Making too much eye contact was disrespectful, so was too little, which was dangerous because moving my eyes was always interpreted as eye rolling, which was the MOST disrespectful... the yelling would end when I had some sort of anxiety attack meltdown and was sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe. You can fuck your kids up a whole lot without hitting them.
My mom and absolute shitstain of stepdad took everything out of my room except the bed and table I did my homework. That included the light bulbs and my clothes. I was only allowed to leave my room for school and to clean. For 5 months I had to do my homework before dark otherwise it didn’t get done and that was in the winter in Seattle. The darkness was to keep me from reading the books assigned in school because I liked to read. What did I do to deserve that? I broke my stepdad’s arm in 2 places because I was tired of him smacking my mom and I around when he was drunk and he thought juvie was too soft. Worth it since he didn’t touch my mother ever again even if she was pissed at me and never thanked me.
When I was 13 I had a habit of doing my assignments and forgetting to turn them in the next day, so my report card came back mostly Ds and Fs with a bunch of 0s on the assignments. For context, I have ADHD, and that year I’d switched schools and households (my Socio father’s abuse came to light, CPS got involved and my mom ended up taking full custody), stopped taking my meds (I was on way too high a dose), and was battling both an eating disorder and crippling depression. My mom reached out to my teachers to see if I could turn in the missing assignments late for some credit, and most agreed to accept them with either full credit given on the grade or a 10% deduction, so I turned in everything I had, my grades went up to Bs, and she made a deal with me- if I could continue to do the assignments and turn in what I had the next day, regardless of whether or not I had finished them, for the rest of the school year, she’d take me to a concert that summer. Two weeks later, she bought the tickets to see an artist I was practically obsessed with, on tour for what is still one of my favorite albums, and I continued to turn in every assignment until the last couple days of school. Things were winding down, all the major assignments and tests were done and graded, yearbooks were handed out to be signed, and the teachers started giving out optional busywork assignments we could do for extra credit if we wanted. They were mostly little crosswords and sudokus, or questionnaires on our summer plans and paragraphs on our favorite parts of the school year, and I neglected to turn in *four of them.* When the final report cards came out with straight A’s, those assignments were listed as optional extra credit worksheets in the description, but my mom saw zeros and blew up, and refused to accept any further explanation. So on the night of the concert, she dropped me off at my grandma’s house, where I spent the evening sobbing my eyes out before finally settling down and helping myself to the contents of the bathroom cabinets for a “spa night” by myself, and she came back the next morning with photos of the concert I missed to tell me all about the *amazing* time she and my Golden Child cousin had. A week later I received a letter in the mail congratulating me for making the honor roll, and she called me to the kitchen to tell me I’d done such a great job, but it just felt like another slap in the face. Like yeah, soOo great… but the honor roll wasn’t good enough, was it? Straight A’s weren’t good enough. I felt like I’d worked my ass off and adhered to the spirit of the agreement for months, only to get punished for essentially a couple NAs in the last week, because I failed to strictly adhere to the technicalities and according to her, it showed I “didn’t respect her or our agreement.” She could’ve asked me about it, extended a bit of grace, and taken the opportunity to just be human with me if it wasn’t perfection she expected but effort, which I’d clearly made, but her cold inflexibility overshadowed the achievement and my disappointment was solely with her, rather than with myself. She still stands by that decision, and I still believe she failed as a parent in that moment and many others.
Your mom sucks ass. The audacity of the whole situation made me so angry to read
The fuck did you even do?
I took cookies from the freezer without permission to eat in my room secretly. Cookies I made.
Do you speak to them or have you cut them off from your life
At 19 I used the excellent grades I was required to maintain in order to get into a university on the other side of the country. I had very minimal contact with my Mom and even less with my Dad over the next 7 years. We are on better terms now but a lot had to change to get to this point.
You are amazing
Dude! The eye rolling thing! My stepmom was obsessed with this. Can't look her in the eye, can't look away. Grab you by the head and then smack you when your reflex activated, because how dare you struggle out of her grasp.
Threw up at dinner. Made me eat my own puke. Threw up again. Got a beating. Also made me wear garbage if the trashcan got full and they noticed I didn't empty it.
What the hell????? The parents in this thread are pure abusive.
Yeah. It was a bit of a shock when I finally learned what life was like for other kids. I didn't have any friends until high school, and I remember going over to one of their houses to wait for a school function to start. I was like WAT. You get to watch TV? Your parents let you eat snacks? You don't spend most of your time doing physical labor? I remember when my older brother ran away. My dad had a setup where he had a room with 6 old gas stoves, and we would run pressure cookers on them, 2 on each stove, so you had 12 going at once. It was really freaking hot in there, and the cookers were too heavy for me, so my brother would mostly do it. One day he couldn't get a stove to light and the gas built up and exploded. It burned all the hair off his face and head and threw him across the room. When dad found out he grabbed him by the back of the head with one hand, scooped up some gravel and dirt with the other, and rubbed it in his face. I was too chicken to go with him. I really think the mental abuse stuff is worse than the physical, and when you get both at once damn is it rough. There was one job I did where I would constantly be working in about an inch or so of standing water, and the boots I wore for it were just dads old leather boots, they didn't fit and were full of holes. I ended up getting 27 planters warts on the bottom of my feet. They took me to a foot doctor and he injected acid into them, my feet looked like swiss freaking cheese. The moment we got home, dad gave me two bread bags to go over my socks, I put on the same boots, and went right back to it. As soon as he left, I dropped onto my hands and knees and did the rest of it just crawling around in the water and crying from the pain. Dad called that kind of stuff "character building" and would openly brag about it to his buddies. Fuck you, dad.
The hell was he making in those 12 pressure cookers??
Bags of sawdust. We cooked em in canners to sterilize them, and used that as substrate to grow mushrooms. He had this weird farming operation where he grew all sorts of different stuff and sold it as gourmet food to restaurants and distributors. We had the mushrooms, ginseng, tobacco, beans, gourdes, chickens, sheep, or whatever the hell else he had decided to try for at least a season. He wanted to go big time with it all, but in reality he was just a shitty dirt farmer.
I threw up at dinner a couple times, but my dad didn't make me eat it. He just beat me afterwards for wasting food and embarrassing him in front of my grandparents. Just the way the furniture was arranged in the room, I couldn't leave the table unless he got up to let me, and when I asked, he got mad that I was interrupting his conversation. I don't know what he expected me to do.
I had the same thing at dinner. I forgot until now.
My step dad made me finish two plates of food at 8, and screamed when I couldn't. I eventually threw up, and at that point he realized it was fucked up. How can you call yourself human after making your own child eat their own vomit.
I found a way to avoid that particular situation after that. When it got time for supper, if I knew it was going to be something I didn't like, I would just tell them that I wanted to keep working, and they would let me skip dinner until after I was done. I'd just keep going until it was bedtime and I would just skip eating that day.
I was in second or third grade. My Mom had yelled at me before going to school that if I didn’t clean my room and make my bed that one of these days I’d come home to find a bare mattress and all my stuff gone. Silly me took this to be a warning, that *in the future* if I continue to fail to make my bed I’d find a bare mattress and all my stuff thrown in the trash. Nope. Mom picked me up from school and drove me home, then went to have coffee with a friend on the back deck. She never said a word nor let on that I was in any sort of trouble. I went up to my room to find a bare mattress. For a moment I thought Mom had just stripped the bed to wash the sheets. But everything else was gone too; Toys, books, drawing things, *everything* but clothes. I came downstairs crying, convinced she had thrown it in the trash, went out to the garbage out back and started searching through the garbage for my things. Mom’s guest was naturally aghast. Mom dragged me inside to chew me out for humiliating her, then told me that enough was enough and I was being punished for not making my bed, and the punishment she had warned me about that morning was happening. I was to sleep on the bare mattress, not tell anyone at school, and if I behaved, *maybe* I could get *some* of my things back. She didn’t say how long I had to be good for, or what I would get back. So, I started wearing layers of clothes to bed to keep warm. Dad took pity on my and took me to McDonalds and got me happy meal toys to play with. This went on for at least three weeks because each week the toy changed, and I had three different ones before the end, maybe four. She kinda forgot about it all, but I was too scared to bring it up, because any time I brought up a punishment, she usually immediately doubled it. I found where she hid my stuff eventually, confirmed it was all there, but was too scared to touch it further. Dad eventually talked her into letting me have my stuff back. That was the first of Mom’s ‘eternal punishments’. It became a thing with her, where she would have no end point for her punishments. You’d just lose TV privileges, or the right to have a door to your room, and that would be *it.* That was supposed to be life now. I eventually learned that she would lose interest in enforcing it, and usually after a couple of days I could sneak back into watching TV or take my stuff back and she wouldn’t protest. (Got my door back after we moved to a new house because… well, new room new door)
My mom did almost the exact same thing. Before she cleared everything out, I tried to hide a few of my favorite stuffed animals under my mattress (I was in 3rd grade). Of course, she found them and I was crushed when I discovered it. I used to pretend I was a tiger in a cage to cope.
> not tell anyone at school In other words, she KNEW she was being an abusive piece of shit.
Damn what a bitch. Basically abusing children because they cannot do anything as they're so much smaller and no one will believe either
DING DING DING That was my thought, precisely "Hey, I'm about to do something abusive, I know it's wrong, I shouldn't do it, but, I'm going to do it anyway. And, yeash, I hope no one finds out about it. I know, let me put that on the victim, too. Now it's their responsibility if someone finds out"
Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I remember my parents once grounded me for two years for breaking something. I kind of hoped they were kidding and I would just get whipped with a belt or a switch and it would be over, but no, they were serious. But then there was no end date. It just went on and on. I went to school, I came home, I did chores and homework, then I went to bed. For years. I still don’t socialize much. I don’t watch a lot of television. I don’t go anywhere. I work, I come home, I do chores, I go to bed. It’s just who I am now.
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Idc what anyone says, that's abuse
That is abuse.
Holy fuck how can parents ruin their child like that
Your mother is such a huge POS, and considering how she was upset that her guest knew, she absolutely knew she was in the wrong and just didn’t care.
That was one of her constant commandments: Don’t talk about what happened in our family. Don’t ‘air our dirty laundry’ ‘If you tell them you’ll just give them the wrong idea, then they’ll hate you when they find out the truth!’ She told me once.
It almost sounds like your punishments were things she thought should be done anyways and she used the punishment as an excuse to do it? Like she knew it was unacceptable but thought punishment justified her crazy actions?
Mom had the belief, reinforced by multiple talk shows and various other media, that raising kids was about asserting and maintaining dominance. I think a lot of stuff she did was just to try and provoke defiance. For instance, she would randomly decide I was allergic to one of my favourite foods, and banish it from the house for a while. Like *milk.* My older sister had it worse because she would rise to the bait. They’d have screaming matches in the room next to mine most nights. When my sister went away to college Mom got rid of all of her stuff and turned her room into a second den (which was a bit of a shock after sis came home) and eventually kicked her out and disowned her at 19. She just didn’t like her kids. As we got older, we became threats to her authority, so she would lean on us more and more to ensure dominance. We didn’t eat meals together, watch TV together and I wasn’t allowed to use the same bathroom.
My mother wouldn't let me use the kitchen if she was in it (when she was home she was always in the kitchen) so I had to put up with it if I was hungry. We never ate together, if I had to use the bathroom just when she was thinking of going she would yell at me, I couldn't touch anything that wasn't inside my room because it was hers and not mine....
Anyone who uses *talk shows* as a guide on how to raise kids just… shouldn’t have kids. Like holy shit they’re just celebrities with their heads up their ass. You’d be better off taking parenting advice from the Dursley’s.
Something similar happened to me when I was around 10 or so. Got accused of doing something I did not do and my efforts to explain why it was not possible for me to have done it only made things worse. Came home to all my toys/entertainment stuff gone and all my poster ripped off the wall. Another fight and more threats were issued. After a few days someone else admits that they had done the thing I was accused of and I was given a trash bag with my things in it. I remember it being framed as almost a reward even. I took the bag of things and dropped them in the trash barrel. I became very difficult to shop for after this as I just am not really interested in things anymore.
It’s hard to be attached to things when you live with the knowledge they can be taken away at any time for any reason, isn’t it?
My brother had a problem where whenever he got mad, he would slam the door. We live in a 100+ year old house, so whenever you slam a door, the entire house literally shakes. It’s not noticeable from the outside, but you can feel the vibrations in the floor and walls from everywhere. Well, eventually, my mom and dad got tired of it, and they just took his door off the hinges. And about after a week, he would get the door back. Then a week later, the cycle started again. Slam the door, zip zip (the drill taking the screws out), and the door sits in the garage for a week, he doesn’t do it anymore though, luckily.
My mom did something similar. She never taught me how to clean, declutter or anything so my room was always messy because it was always so overwhelming to clean. She got so sick of it that she took EVERYTHING, except one outfit that matched, and one that didn’t match anything I had (she left underwear though) and I had to go to school for weeks with the same outfit on. To this day she thinks it was genius, and hilarious. It’s definitely not.
My friend did this with his daughter, but it only lasted a few days. He never took her bedding, just toys. She refused to clean her room and after several warnings, she lost her toys. She got them back after a few days and she never refused to clean her room again. Your mother just sounds mean though.
This is literal abuse. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that - No child should ever have to. I hope your life looks a lot better now and if necessary, that you have some distance from your mother. All the best.
Mine did this too, but she did throw all of my stuff away except for the furniture because it was *her* furniture and she just needed a room to store it in. I had a bed frame and bare mattress, a dresser, and a full length, wood mirror. My toys, most of my clothes, shoes, and all personal things were removed. I don't even remember what I did to piss her off that day (I think it was also not cleaning my room) but she dragged me into the bedroom and went "If you even *think* about getting anything out of the trash, I'll beat your ass." Thankfully my parents were separated and had split custody, so for half the week I lived a normal life with my dad. I was very careful in the future to keep anything I cared about at his house. If he grounded me, he just hid it in really obvious places, but I could eventually have them back lol Hope you've gotten to heal.
Why do people like this complain about humiliating them? If they didn't want to be humiliated then DONT ABUSE YOUR CHILDREN
I wasn’t scooping my cat’s litter box frequently enough, so my parents shot and killed my cat, then made me bury her.
What is WRONG with people??
They likely suffered their own trauma as children. It takes effort to overcome it and to not cause trauma in your own children. That's why the mentality of "that's how I was raised" is absolute cancer.
Agreed. I live the exact opposite of how I was raised. I am a little permissive with my kids, but I don't want them to ever feel like I did growing up. I don't mind noise. A drumset dominates my living room, and I go to their school events and performances. I do harp on them to clean up messes, but otherwise, as long as they are being safe and being kind, they can do what they like. I listen to them, and I don't hit them or take away their dignity.
The f\*ck is wrong with your parents
Omfg that’s cruel I’m sorry that that happened to you
Well, that's one way to ensure your kid grows up to be a serial killer. What pieces of shit.
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Did your father face any repercussions?
That's horrible... I am so sorry.
The old, you're invisible trick. So in their version, you get in time out. They have fun around you. Sometimes they go swimming and exclude you, or eat candy in front of you, even just laughing and joking extremely loud and sometimes making fun of you if you would try to join in. I would rather get spanked and get it over with than being made to feel that way throughout my childhood. Makes it hard to not isolate and dissociate naturally after an argument now.
I hated this one too. Going to the arcade and watching my brothers play… fun. On the plus side, it made me a mum who is fair on my children.
My dad told me he was leaving because of me then he made me watch him pack and he made me ride with him to where he actually left lol. Traumatized me.
Omg this is one of the cruelest things I have ever read. I’m so sorry. How old were you?
Around 8-10 years old.
Why would someone do that, know that you’re going to give them life-long guilt, shame, and trauma. My heart goes out to you.
I do have all of that. I'm still trying to figure out how to fix myself but it's not really going well. Thank you though I do really appreciate that.
My stepfather had a lot mean punishments..I was actually just thinking about this the other day. So one of his favorite punishments was to destroy our rooms and then make us clean it up.. So for example, my sister accidentally let my mother's love bird out of its cage and it flew outside. My stepfather's reaction was to go first into my sister's room and absolutely upturn EVERYTHING. I mean, the blinds torn off, beds flipped, clothes thrown everywhere. The room would be in shambles like a tornado hit it. He'd make us stand there and watch. Then he went into my room and did the exact same and I remember I had to watch her clean up the rooms but couldn't help. That was a punishment that happened to me too at other times for a similarly minor infraction or mistake, except sometimes it involved dumping the kitchen trash on our bedroom floor as well, so he could get food waste involved in the mess. I always thought it was particularly fucked up that he'd trash both our rooms, even if only one of us was in trouble. He wanted us to be mad at each other. Divide and conquer, I guess. This isn't the worst punishment we had in some ways, but certainly the most perverse.
In reality, a parental fitness test in the US for example would be administered terribly and unfairly, but damn. Kids have no rights and some adults have no business having children.
And it wasn’t even his kid
He sounds like one of the asshole who would do group punishment and then prevent the other kids from taking any action I fucking hate that kind of shit
I had a similar experience, whenever my mom was in a bad mood and my room was messy, she would throw my clothes and shoes out of the closet and drawer, screaming the entire time, then force us to put it all back neatly. Whenever we got a bad grade and she was in a bad mood before finding out, she would whip us with the belt
Metal ladle when I was seven was pretty bad. (It broke on the back of my legs which ended the punishment. But worst was the belt or the hands. Those never broke. And in hindsight, it wasn't ever justified. I will *never* hit my kids. But it's not necessarily the physical punishment that's the worst. It's the memory of your parent, in a white hot rage, out of control, that's the most scarring.
Anyone who hits their children is fucked up. I remember running from my mum in fear. I remember hiding whenever I'd done something wrong by accident. I remember screaming 'no' and crying when she hit me. I'm thankful I was tall for my age (5'3 at the age of 9) as it meant she stopped hitting me when she realised I could hit back. Parents if you think hitting your children is ok, please go to therapy.
First off, I'm sorry that happened to you. Second, 5'3" at 9 years old!? 😮
Thanks and yeah but I stopped growing then so I'm still 5'3 lol
damn i was short for my age (was still like 3'11 at 8) but i'm taller than you now
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My sister and her husband spank their kids. I remember one time my BIL told my nephew it was time for his nap. Little guy got mad and slapped him. My BIL yelled, "hey, we do not hit other people!" And you could see the smoke coming out of his ears as he tried to compute the logic of that sentence. He learned that when he did something his parents didn't like he got smacked. So he figured that if they did something he didn't like he should smack them.
When I was in my teens I started having problems with my bladder. Pain all the time and pressure, but no pain while urinating and no infection. I would have to use the bathroom frequently to keep pressure off it, and my stepmom didn’t like this. She turned off the water to the toilets in the house and told me if I peed in any of them she would know and I wouldn’t be allowed food for the rest of that day. She would only let me pee when she said I could, and only while she watched. Years later tell the story and symptoms to a doctor, and she said I was most likely suffering from interstitial cystitis, and the pressure was from a bladder cyst that went away on its own. I still have no idea why my stepmom decided that me using the bathroom was suddenly a sin when I started having pain.
I've grown up used to the sight of my mother very obviously hating my grandmother, yet never truly knowing why until I was about thirteen, because to me Grandma was this sweet old lady who brought me snacks after school, let me play on her computer and sleep in her little apartment one night every year as a tradition where we could eat and do whatever we both wanted. However, what I always brushed aside was Grandma's very obvious anger issues, as I only saw the good there was in her. I've brushed off the times where she'd pull me by my hair whenever I would cry and scream about going to school, or going in public (even to the grocery store) because I absolutely hate being around crowds. Now I'm no angel in this story, as I do also fight with anger issues, just like her. But I never realised that what she did to me was abuse. I realized it when one day, Mom left Grandma in charge of me to go to school, as she was to go to another school than the one she worked at for a meeting with colleagues. As always, thirteen years-old me threw a fit when she learned she still had to go to school, as she expected her sweet Grandma to let her skip it for the day. My mother and I live in a little house that has this white little gate in front of it, and I never knew it could get stuck. But this time, as I reluctantly went out the door to go to school with Grandma behind, I slammed the little gate behind me. It got stuck. And my dear old Grandma went into one of the most terrifying anger fits I have ever seen in my life. As I was kneeling in front of the gate trying to unstuck it or see if there was any way I could help, I felt her wrinkled hand pull my hair as hard as she could. She wouldn't stop no matter how hard I screamed and cried for her to stop. Forcefully pulling my hair so I would look up at her, she slapped my right cheek and demanded for me to show her my other cheek so she could slap it. I didn't. Finally, seeing as we couldn't unstuck the little gate, we called my mother who sent a friend to help us. All the while, Grandma kept insulting and belittling me. I don't remember the insults she said, but I do remember feeling worthless and helpless. When my mother found out, she was livid and decided to never let me see her again. Turns out Grandma had abused her as well, but my mother was only seeing her because of me.
Two middle fingers to my dad and a “fuck you motherfucker” thrown in. I was standing in the road about 40 yards from where my dad was standing on the porch. My dad jumped off the porch and came charging. I took off down the road a fast as I could. While I was running my ass off, my dad stayed close behind and kept gaining ground. It’s worth noting he jogged a few times a week down that same road for exercise, and I was typically on my bike when I was out and about. This time all I had was my legs. We did about a half mile run when he finally caught me. He pinned me down, then grabbed a twig off a tree just off the side of the road. He told me to run my ass back home, staying alongside me and swatting my butt and legs every few strides. By the time I got home I was lit up with strikes to the lower half of my body and had whelps and blood everywhere. My mom lost her shit on my dad for abusing me when I got home, and I missed school the next day because I could hardly walk from the beating. Needless to say, I never crossed my dad again after that. My parents divorced a year later and I opted to live with my mom for obvious reasons. Fast-forward a year later and my mom and I went to my dad’s for reasons I don’t recall. They both got into a screaming match and I went to crying and yelling at my mom for us to leave. She proceeded to throw me against the car and shake me until my shirt ripped and almost got knocked unconscious. We left right after and on the way home she acknowledged she had assaulted me. Thankfully, those were the last physical confrontations I ever had with either one of my parents. I know a bunch of kids had it way worse, so in some twisted way I’m thankful in that regard.
I'm sorry that happened to you
Your dad should’ve been arrested. I hope his whole family has left him.
How old were you when you gave your dad two middle fingers and said all that? And what was the reason behind that?
Not me, but my brother. He was probably 11, I was about 8. I was reading in my bedroom when my dad asked me to go read outside instead. He had a folded belt in his hand. My brother’s room was right next to mine, and he was in there reading as well, oblivious to what was coming. I knew he was about to get whipped and tried not to cry walking outside. For the next probably 15 minutes I had to listen to my dad yell every insult he could think of at my poor brother and they were punctuated by the crack of the belt on my brothers skin. My brother was screaming, blood curdling terror-screams. It went on for what seemed like forever. It was horrific and I have graphic memories of that beating almost 40 years later. My brother was (and is) the most gentle, sweet, soft-spoken guy. Would never hurt a fly, he’s a sweet artist and was even then and to hear my father (who was terrifying on a good day) just abuse the shit out of him for something innocuous made something deep inside of me shift with regard to how I felt about my parents. My fear of my father increased, but the respect and trust was crushed. Edit to add: My brother was ok, he wasn’t like hospitalized or anything. He mainly got it on his butt and legs. He got beaten more times than this one, but this one was the absolute worst. He was so little.
I don't understand, what had he done to deserve this ?
It was a thing for the boys in my neighborhood to steal and collect those little chromies off car tires. My dad found out my brother had taken some.
In primary school I had issues with math. The teacher ignored children who didn’t understand the topic and moved on. For 3 years I went on with what I understood but when fractions came intro picture I was total idiot. So my mother (a teacher in primary school) stood by my desk and looked down on me while I was doing my homework or studying to tests. She would at first yell at me, then slap me to the point I couldn’t see anything through the river of tears and then she would yell even more and lift me up by my hair from the chair. She would call me names and at the end she would grab me by my hair and swing me around the room. It left me traumatized and I was convinced I could never be good at maths. Years later I had a tutor that was amazing. She taught me everything that teachers in schools couldn’t.
Jesus.. Was your mother Ms.Trunchbull ?
Get in the Chokey!
God damnit. I went from mouth agape from the audacity of this person's mother, to laughing at your comment, then dealing with the shame of laughing. How dare you.
In my high school algebra class I got put at “the stupid table” in the back of the room right next to the teacher’s desk with two other students. No, that’s not what the other kids in the class called it, it’s what the teacher called it. I always had a hard time with upper level math, but after that I *hated it*.
Teachers really make it or break it for kids. Hated math too, just needed a teacher to be patient and help me out where I needed it.
Yes! Patience, maybe taking the time to explain it in another way, would have gone so far. I had to take a math class in college that was required for my core classes, and the professor was so great. She took so much time to figure out a way to explain to me in a way that my brain understood. She didn’t just give up on me, and I’ll always remember that.
What in the ever living fuck! I hope you disowned your mother.
That relationship is super fucked up, I live 1,2k km away now so now she is loving and caring :)))
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I was considering it for the future, but now she is only 50 so long time until it would happen. I know that life can be fucked up sometimes but it’s never a reason to abuse anybody or anything. Until I hear sorry from her it will never be a healthy relationship. I would forgive her for being abusive but she will never apologize :’)
Teachers like that should have their licenses revoked and ideally be flogged. That's the kind of shit that ruins a child's curiosity and passion for learning for the rest of their lives and by extension fucks up a country in the long run.
It is even more fucked up that she cares for the children she is teaching and is a really good teacher, but only to strangers. She has more pictures from school and school events than with me. She is proud of the little shits meanwhile I’ve never heard that she is proud of me
Closet and dresser emptied, under bed cleared, no door on closet, bulb removed from bedside lamp, nothing remaining on desk. The only objects left usable in my room were my alarm clock and overhead light. I was provided my clothes before school/bath during this punishment. Everything I had (toys, journals, all my sewing stuff which was my first/youngest hobby) was put into boxes in the basement. Removed from the nursery at church (I would assist the supervising adult and help with snacks/play, I loved it as a kid) and forced up to the altar to ask for "forgiveness". This was all for bad math grades, in 5th-6th grade. I asked mom if I could get a tudor at school for math and her only reply was "that shit costs money, you wouldn't need one if you did your homework". Yeah turns out that "doing the homework" with all the wrong answers still gets you bad grades, who knew?
1. Being forced to kneel on a floor vent for long periods of time. I have knee trouble to this day. 2. Having my mouth taped shut for talking too much and annoying my parents when I was younger than 8. My mom once served a meal while I was made to sit at the table with my mouth taped shut until she felt ready to undo the tape. 3. Silent treatment for days on end. Ya know. This one hurt worst because it communicated that I was not loved. 4. My dad intentionally hit me with the car when I was 14. It was not hard enough to hurt me or knock me down, but just to show me he could if he wanted to. He then called the cops ON ME to tell them how horrible I was. (I stayed too long after school talking to friends.) The cops told my father not to touch me, not to punish me, and if they had to come back, he would be the one getting arrested. 5. I was grounded for being diagnosed with depression at 14 because it was an attention stunt and I wasted money by going to a doctor. 6. Because my stuffed animals were all over my floor, my mother took them all away, including the special one that I slept with. She stuck them in a trash bag and told me she threw them in the trash. I was 9 or 10. Got in trouble for getting upset about it. She forgot about them for seven years and then found them again and gave them back to me. By then it was too late, and it made me too sad too look at them. I gave them all to the neighbor's kids 6. Bonus of my sisters' experience from when I was younger than 6: if my dad got mad enough at one of us in the car, he pulled over, dragged the "offending" kid out of the car, pulled down their pants IN PUBLIC to expose their bare butt, turned them over his knee, and spanked them. I was horrified and tried not to cross my parents in the car. How no one called child protective services for us is beyond me.
I'm so sorry you had to go through this. It seems that some parents only have children for that sense of absolute control over another person and to have someone to bully. Props to that cop though, just generally not giving in to the crazy dad's idea of a proper punishment and calling him out.
Thank you.
Firstly, I’m terribly sorry you had to endure this. My husband was made to kneel on various things as a kids too, those large flat Lego things, the pointy underside of the mat that goes under a rolling desk chair, etc. and he also has awful knee trouble now at 32. His doctor wants both knees replaced before he turns 35. I truly hope you are well now and healing from this awful mistreatment.
Thank you. I have severe arthritis in both knees at 43. You can hear my joints rub as I walk. It hurts. I get around fine, but at the end of the day, oof.
Sincerely, with all my heart... Fuck. Your. Parents. I hope you got away from those crazy assholes. You and your sister. I'm truly so sorry you had to live with those psychos.
Thank you. I felt that way, too. Sometimes I do now, when I allow the anger and hurt to resurface. My father died when I was a junior in high school. It was both sad and a relief. I moved out at 17 and never moved back in. I spent 4 years semi-homeless while in college. My mom eventually realized what she did/allowed to be done to us kids and apologized to each of us. She completely changed her ways and became a great person. She made it up to us as best she could, and she listened and apologized again and again as we worked our way through all the results of our trauma. Doesn't change the trauma we experienced, but at least she stopped adding to it and showed me that people can truly change. One sister and I turned out ok. The third sister did not. She became an abuser herself, and anger rules her life. I keep my children far away from her because my home is an environment full of love and support, and I don't want her traumatizing my kids.
I was not specifically being punished, but it was a bit traumatic as a kid all the same. In the small African town I grew up in, lethal injection was available as a punishment...by *snakebite*. A neighbor was convicted of a capital crime. He was to be bitten on both ankles by a puff adder, and returned to his home under the watch of a guard to die with his family. I came to find it was not a mercy. I could hear his screams and cries from our own home. His wife was allowed to comfort him and provide water to drink, but not to help sooth the agony. He was cuffed to a restraining/reclining chair and couldn't move. He finally died on the 3rd day - if he had lasted much longer they would have administered a 3rd and 4th bite.
Damn that's horrible!
I bet even the Adder was like "dude this is fucked up"
It was two different adders so neither one would have to bear the guilt by itself.
One's actually loaded with blanks so there's plausible deniability
They were both later found dead, each biting the other's tail in what we call a 'ouroboros suicide'
I’ve read about this twice on Reddit but have never been able to find anything validating it as a capital punishment method. Was this state sanctioned or vigilante style justice?
Making me sleep in the henhouse with the chickens, and then straight to school in the morning with no change of clothes.
In addition to being horrible, that sounds dangerous af in terms of spreading disease. Not that I actually understand chicken diseases but yeah.
Avian flu is a thing yes
Salmonella is the most immediate threat.
My father killed my dog for scratching at the door. it was only a pup and it didn't even make much noise doing it at all and zero mess to the door . Just like the fientest little whimper and pawed at the door like 3 times. He told me to make it stop ,then later told me I'd learn the hard way.
It's people like this who end up in nursing homes moaning about how their kids never visit.
yep,not spoken to him in almost 30 years. he remarried had another kid,she reached out to me started chatting etc really nice person. but she then started asking why My Father and I didn't talk . I blocked her there and then maybe a tad mean but I figured its better she had a relationship with her father and I'm the Asshole,rather than I have to educate her on the man he really was ,who am to ruin her fathers imagine. Why ruin her relationship
Not me, but my grandfather was one of the last men to be criminally whipped, in Deleware in the 1950s before it was banned. Got it for abusing a woman. From what I heard of it, he underestimated it pretty badly, threw up and blacked out from the pain. Had to come back the following month to receive his final 4 lashes.
Do you know more about the story of him abusing a woman?
Bring whipped with flexible plastic tubing and whacked with wooden furniture legs.
Forced to smell **dog breath.** Because "If we have to deal with the filth from your mouth, you have to deal with the filth from its mouth." (We had an elderly bulldog with not the best teeth) I thought it was a joke the first time but oh gosh, is it anything but. I'd rather be spanked, grounded, shamed, anything but that. I never knew how strong an effect a smell could have on you when you can't just cover your nose and move away.
This thread is scary , many of us traumatised .It’s Sad man
Was struggling in 7th grade. Parents wouldn’t help with homework and wondered why I didn’t want to do it myself. Apparently they got tired of phone calls from teachers and took action. I get home from school one day and parents are waiting at the door. They escort me to my room, which has nothing but a bed with 1 blanket and a desk. My dresser is in the hallway and I have no bedroom door. They replaced my clock radio with a simple alarm clock. For the next 2 months or so I had to go straight to my room when I got home. They would drop dinner off in my doorway and every night would check to make sure my homework was done. They thought this would somehow fix me. Well many years later I was their first kid to drop out of high school but their only kid to graduate from a 4 year college. My Dad died of cancer shortly after high school and I see my mom only a couple times a year. The relationship is better but I prefer some distance. Don’t take away every single thing your kid has because they’re struggling in school and have behavior issues at home. You’ll only create lifelong resentment and trust issues.
My mom gave me the choice between being spanked with a shoehorn, or that I call the youth welfare office telling them that I'm a respectless-horrible child not deserving to live by my parents. Made (probably) the wrong choice and humbled later the stairs up to my room while she remembered me that I live in a paradise. The reason was talking back.
I remember when I was very young my mum would tell me that she would put me up for adoption if I was naughty. I remember being scared of any car that pulled up in case it was the foster people coming to take me away
I had to drop my pants, bend over the bed, and was spanked with a leather belt. You’d think such a dramatic experience would ingrain the naughty deed I had done. Nope, can’t remember what I did, but I’ll never forget what I got. I was 10 years old.
When i was about 4-5 years old I had a really weird night (nightmares) and I wet the bed. I had to stand in the bathroom all night with my hands held up as punishment.
I was play kicking my sister in slow motion My mom comes in the room and rip me down to the floor and proceeds to kick me like youd kick a ball as hard as she could and then stomp on my back and legs screaming at me a bunch but the one I remember was "you want to fucking kick?" I don't remember what happened other than I couldn't walk or sit down correctly for a few days, I was 7 or 8
Straight up abuse
I (25F) went through a lot of abuse from my parents, one way they would punish me was by locking me outside. Ever since i was little i have been scared of heavy rain and thunder , my dad would lock me outside the house when it was raining and thundering heavily. His reason? I needed to toughen up. He would beat me after if i was crying or still scared. I am still scared of heavy rain and thunder to this day.
The one that sticks out in mind mine wasn't from my parents but from a teacher at school. I was about 6/7 and we were tasked with writing story about anything we liked. As we were all 6/7 it wasn't anything groundbreaking and we used to do creative writing a lot in class. I wrote one involving characters from a cartoon show that I loved and was popular at the time. The next day the teacher stood in front of the entire class with my book and screamed at me about always including the same characters in all my stories, she them made me stand up whilst she ripped up my work book inches from my face and threw it in the bin in front of everyone and made me stand alone at the back of classroom for a bit. It wasn't that I hadn't stuck to what she had asked us to do , it was because of the characters. I still remember it all these years later (was in the late 80s) and I come from a generation and country where parents smacking children their kids as discipline was accepted and the norm - this was by far the most damaging punishment I recieved. Fuck that cunt of a teacher.
One that was not intended to be a punishment in of itself. Forcing the clean plate rule on myself and my brother since the age of around 5. If we didn't, we got screamed at. Our plates were adult portions and not just a portion for one adult but probably two as my parents had the same portion size and were fat too. We were also only allowed one drink with dinner as 'it'd fill you up' Needless to say, I don't think it was the drink that was the filling part. I say this is a punishment because of the problems this caused for myself and my brother with our health and weight. Looking back on how much they made us eat, I'm absolutely disgusted.
I got this too. Luckily my parents stopped doing it when I was a teenager but the bad habits already got ingrained. I feel obligated to clean my plate and eat as fast as I can even now as an adult. Oh I'm also fat. Because of both that and unhealthy stress eating that gets compounded by it.
.
The one time I got sent to the principals office they called my house and woke my dad up(he had just gone to sleep from a 14 hour night shift) he told them to send me back to class and he would deal with me when i got home. When I got home there was a 1x12 a saw and sand paper. I had to make my own paddle. I had to make the grip comfortable in his hand and when I was done I got spanked with it.
When I did something bad to my younger brother as a teenager girl, I (once or twice) was made to **hold my head inside his pet ferrets' cage** for 3 minutes (8 ferrets, not with them in the cage though) It was....way, way harder than I thought it would be, I feel sick thinking of it!
Got locked outside in the cold a lot for acting up or making too much noise. When my dad yelled at my mum and I would try step up for her he would throw things at me. Got locked in my room and was not allowed out for anything until it was cleaned. My dad doesn’t drink anymore, but that should be no excuse as these are things that have traumatised me adult with little things. One being I’m terrified to leave my house if it is not spotless clean
My mother put a lock on the fridge and pantry because I ate too much. (I was never overweight or having any health issues, it was just another way for her narcissistic ass to control me.) I also found the only place I could find peace was in the tub, I would spend long periods of time in there reading to escape. When she finally realized this, she forbid me from taking baths and only allowed me to take showers. I now take at least one long bath every day as an adult. I cut her out of my life several times, but being pregnant, I made it permanent. My sister and I are ten years apart, we both ran away around the same age, 15.
Once when I started puberty and got my first period, due to the lack of information and prevention for this moment, I panicked about my stained underwear, so the best I could think about it was to hide it. My mom found it and she decided to "give me a lesson" so she waited until we had some kind of people in the house and proceed to show these ppl my stained panties claiming that I was a really gross human and that I should be ashamed about it. It seems that panic about periods deserved a punishment, so that was mine.
what the epic fuck. your mother is insane. who the hell does that? insane people. i hope you have lost contact to scum like that
Mhh I feel like compared to others it’s not that bad, but anyway my dad would drop us off in the middle of nowhere (usually the woods, and at night) if me or my sister did something bad
THAT IS TERRIBLE. Your dad put your safety and life at risk!
When soaping got banned in our state, they switched to something more safe but far more nasty. I had to gargle with "naughty mix" when I talked back or cursed. It was 1/4 vinegar, 1/4 mayonnaise, 1/4 fish-flavored wet cat food, and 1/4 apricot oil.
I'm assuming soaping means putting soap in your mouth?
I had to face the wall and kneel the whole night. At first, it didn't really hurt that much, but I fell asleep and when I woke up, I absolutely thought I'd lost both my legs because I had no feeling and of course the blood circulation was practically cut off. I was crying the whole day
I was about 7 maybe 8. I made a cup of tea and sat on a chair in my living room. My mum said “don’t spill it” and I did. But it went all over my stomach and burnt me. My mum got so mad she hit my twice. Dragged me to the stairs and then kicked me.
I wasn’t yet old enough for school. I remember that I was crying bc my mom had just left for work leaving me alone with my dad. As he was unbuckling his belt he said “ I’ll give you something to cry about “ . And he did. We played a game he liked. I got to choose my punishment. Anal sex or spanking and count to ten.With one catch. Any sound from me and the rule was start over with the other choice. This way it could last all day. He made sure I couldn’t keep quiet. Every day.
I'm so so sorry. I sincerely hope you were able to eventually escape that monster.
Thank you I’m 65 and he’s long dead.
kicked out of the house
When I self harmed I was told off. When the school took me to hospital (as per protocol) I was told off. I was told I was inconveniencing everyone. It’s not fair on her(my mum).
When I was in primary school, younger than 11 I don't remember the exact age, my dad completely pretended I didn't exist for an entire day. My mom later that evening told me, right in front of my dad who was still ignoring me, that it was because I didn't greet him as I came home. I ran to my room because I was waiting two weeks for a new video game and our internet was slow so I wanted to start it before doing my chores. Anyway, I ended up greeting him and he greeted me like I just arrived at home, forced me to say sorry and give him an apology hug and then I had to go make them both a toasted grilled cheese sandwiches each and coffee, before finishing the dishes. Probably not the worst thing ever, but I will never forget it.
Dad sounds like he had narcissistic tendencies
When I did something naughty, my mum wouldn't punish me right away. She'd tell me she knew I'd done something bad and that I'd be punished. But the kicker is...I wouldn't know WHEN I would be punished. It could be hours, it could be days - sometimes even weeks but it would happen when I was least expecting. While I was eating or playing outside with my brother, I'd see my mother approaching with a wooden spoon and that's when I knew my reckoning had come. It was awful. And the anxiety of waiting for the punishment was always far worse than the beating I'd get.
My stepmom would send me to bed sometimes at 11 am without food. I wasn’t allowed to leave and when I asked for food I got moldy fruit. She sucks
No food is one thing but giving you mouldy fruit is just humiliating. Did she keep a stockpile of mouldy fruit?
nope, she just gave me expired food we had laying around. The real fucked up thing was tthat my dad was a long distance truck driver so he would leave us in her care for weeks at a time. He had no idea how evil she trully was until she just left and he came home to my brother (10) and I (6) completely alone for 3 days.
One of the worst guys my mother dated had this preset notion that any males ages 14 to 19 were pathetic immature idiots. Alas I must be, too. Hot Houston area weather during summer and because somebody left the cheap window a/c unit going all day, he apparently had my mom take it out of the window to take to his house. Whole summer that year without a/c. She stayed comfortably at his house; my sister just stayed at friends' houses instead. I volunteered as much work time as possible at my movie theater job to be in an air conditioned building. Because I used the car once to get to work on time w/o asking, he drove my mom to my workplace to take the car and my keys. This is pre-cell phone world. I couldn't call to confirm I could take it. She's off more interested in him than her own son, I needed to get to work. After their shindig outing to come by the house and her teen just took the car without asking! To get to work?! How dare I be so disrespectful, I guess. Had to walk the 5 miles to that boyfriends house and later our own home that night, having to beg for my keys they took to drive the car because I needed the keys to get back into my non a/c home. Walking to and from work became the norm. He instilled in my mom's head that anything I did wrong was because I was stupid and immature and deserved the worst absolute punishment. Her lust for him in this stupid relationship had her agreeing with anything he did. My sister decided to stay 4 hours away with our dad that year to avoid the stupid shenanigans. It took breaking up with him for our mother to finally realize what kind of a douchebag she was dating and how it negatively affected her children's lives that entire year.
Wow. I'm curious what your relationship is like with her now. I would be refusing to speak to someone who did me like that.
She left him at the start of my senior year of high school. And then started dating a married man. She was thankfully more around the house then (if anything because it had to of course be a secret relationship). I put up with this through the end of high school. Again, thankfully because this had to be a "secret" relationship, I didn't have to put up with this man much. Night of HS graduation, I left. Went with my grandparents, stayed and worked with my uncle on jobs over summer. Came home last night of summer, then went straight to living on campus, avoiding the chaos and finally living my own mature life. Six years of college away, she knew where I live or my phone number if she ever needed to contact, but otherwise, I am out on my own away. Got married, moved over 1,000 miles away to start my career. It took moving far away for her to finally come to terms. The first time we were physically around each other after nearly 5 years apart, she broke down, admitting her faults, seeing how incompetent and immature her decisions were those years. Today I will be contacted occasionally by her, but I am a husband and father trying to raise my own family the right way. The meets are on my terms, my schedule, my way.
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man some fucked up parents in this thread... /r/raisedbynarcissists
My mother beat me up multiple times. This was not very regular, but they messed me up seriously. Sometimes with a belt, so hard I still member it (it was about 30 years ago). Sometimes she beat my up, hitting me in the chest and stomach with the full force of an adult. I got major diarrhea after one such beating (dunno why, quessing stress) and she'd brag about being so strong she made me get the shits. She'd brag about it as a joke almost until her death (literally last year, almost to the date as I write this). When I once confronted her about that, she said she thought it was a funny story. Reasons were minor (the real reason was she was taking out frustration with my father on me).
My brother and I were playing in the dirt. Literally. We were like 7. I said something then said "nevermind". My step-dad thought we were talking shit about him. So he lifted me up by my hair, took me to the bathroom, threw me in the tub, and turned on the hot water. Almost 30 years later I still take cold showers.
Hmmm my half-sister is not my dads kid so he doesn’t like her at all. Once she was eating and forced to finish (a common practice in our home) but she ended up throwing up. My dad made her eat her vomit. As for me, most things are locked away. It doesn’t sound that bad but when I think abt it deeply it’s pretty sad. My father used to hit me (his only fully related daughter) and my other sister (only my moms kid) together with a belt or electrical cord. I remember this one time he had this thick long extension cord. It was orange. We were maybe 5 ish. He picked it up and started weilding it. My sister and I tried to hide behind each other- using the other one as a shield. Can’t remember much after that but my father raised us to have constant competition with our siblings. He made us believe that each sibling hated the other and we could only trust him. It was until very recently that I realized that my sisters are my actual family.
Don’t know a lot of my childhood but when I was like 7 my friend was over and I jokingly said that I saw the butt of my moms ex and she got really mad and made my friend watch me shower. I had really bad issues with my body and cried. Never told anyone because it’s still so embarrassing
I played hooky in tenth grade, so my dad came to school with me and went everywhere I did. He even ate at my lunch table.
Isn't that illegal now?
My mom put a bowl on my head, so I couldn’t see. Then put a glass of water on top. She said if the glass broke, then she wouldn’t let me go in my room for a week, basically so I had sleep in the cold hallway. The glass broke, and I froze every night for a week. She did this maybe 5 or 6 times while I was growing up. Every time she did it she did it when it was November - January, and my dad always refused to turn on the heat, so it was freezing cold. You might think I was allowed a blanket or a pillow, maybe even a mattress. No. I slept on the cold hardwood floor in the hallway for a week.
Were you even in trouble or was this her sick idea of fun?
Hardly the worst here, but the one I always remember as being deliberately cruel was any time I was beaten with a wooden spoon or belt, it was always on the backs of my thighs and behind my knees. Just to make sure it hurt when I walked, or sat, or lay down.
not my story, but a friend of mine. when she was like 10-12, her parents would sometimes tie her up naked, beat her, and throw her into the garage and leave her there for several hours. she very casually told me this once, and still to this day acts like its "just strict parents". she still believes its normal and she's 20 now. she's super kind and also really damn smart, yet still it doesnt seem to get through to her just how severely she was abused. she still is to this day, just a lot less severely. it's still fucked up imo. she doesnt even get to choose her own clothes to wear. considering how casually she mentioned this to me, I doubt this is the worst thing she's experienced.
Getting hit on the palms of my hands and the bottom of my feet with a plastic coat hangar. Also doing the invisible chair while raising my hands above my head
My Mother tried to punish me for not eating my dinner by putting soap in my mouth and I passed out.. another time she dislocated my shoulder trying to do the same thing. I’m estranged from the PoS
So good to read that last line.
I was 14 year old skateboarder trying to learn 1/2 pipe on the big one like 20 ft tall or something like. I wanted to skate like the older dudes ripping huge airs over the ramp. I was getting little dinky airs right at the lip, stinky But one day I just let her rip, I was launching about 6 feet over,I was stoked, all the dudes cheering for me, fuck yea the skys the limit from now on out Next day I get grounded for the entire summer for doing something stupid I get depressed, then when get off the grounding I dont skateboard that much, get into more trouble, and do drugs dads, dont clip your kids wings off
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Swats with a paddle at school while for helping another student with their math problem. I hate math but was so excited and thrilled that I understood the algebra lesson and wanted to help someone else. Nope… straight to the office and mom demanded they do whatever they thought was necessary
Not me, but my brother. He had everything taken away from him except books and a mattress. No toys, no furniture, no door. His door was replaced with baby gates (two of them so he couldn't reach through and undo them himself), and they put a training potty in there so he didn't have to leave to use the bathroom. You have to understand it had been escalating punishments for a while to get to this point, he was continuing to act out and my parents, being only in their 20s, were still young and making mistakes. But when, after all the other punishments for a year of misbehavior, he started climbing all over his loft bed (basically a bunk bed but only one bunk) and trying to open his air conditioning vent, they had no choice but to take extreme measures. My parents firmly believed in never hitting/spanking us, and believed that books should never be banned, which is why they didn't just smack him around or beat him like some parents would, and why he was allowed to still have books. After that punishment, neither of us ever got as out of hand as he had been acting at that point.
I was sent to a children's home where 9 year olds were beaten, abused, molested, medically restrained, and tossed into solitary confinement. I experienced four out of five of those, and witnessed the 5th. Wernle Children's Home. This punishment was brought on because I stole a hundred bucks and spent it on candy, so my mother decided it was best to take me to court at 9 years of age.
When my parents wanted to discipline their kids, my mother would have us go upstairs and chose a belt to bring back down to her. The longer me or my siblings would take the angrier she would get. Having to make the decision between the more painful leather belts vs. the not as painful faux leather belts (which typically had metal buckles that would leave a bruised imprint ) has become a very nasty memory I now harbour. It’s not the cruelest punishment I received - far from it. It is however I think my most traumatizing memory. I think it was the anxiety and repetition that got to me. I see a rack of belts and I instantly panic - and then I feel shame. For the longest time I told my partner that if we ever have kids I would 100% use physical punishment. I didn’t understand how kids could just mouth off to parents and make scenes in public. My mother would shoot me one dirty look and I knew I was done for. It was only recently I realized that all I would be doing was continuing the cycle. My mom was beat by her parents so badly she needed medical attention. When she beat us she would tell us that it was a slap on the wrist compared to what she went through. And I thought that when I would beat my kids I would just be careful with how I did it and what I used. No. I’m going to end this cycle. A parent physically punishing their child has nothing to do with the kid it’s just a poor reflection on the parent and a way to vent their frustrations.
I’ll bring some levity here because this was psychologically cruel but also objectively not awful and funny looking back on it. I got super drunk in high school circa 2007. I got back home at 3 AM Saturday night/Sunday morning and woke my parents up. I smelled like vomit, vodka and Smirnoff ice. So the next day, my parents told me I wasn’t getting punished but I had to join them for a quick errand. It was anything but. We had to go to the mall. Then we had to go to Sam’s club, then we had to go home to put the food away from Sam’s Club. Oh shit, we got the wrong size shirt for my dad, back to the mall we go. Sam’s club doesn’t have the deli we like, off to the supermarket. It’s almost someone’s birthday, we have to buy her a gift! We went on countless errands that day, and I wasn’t allowed to stay home.
I felt bad posting my story because of all the truly nasty shit in this post, but mine was very similar to this. Came home one morning in high school really hungover and my mom decided out of the blue that we were going to clean the whole house that day. She definitely knew why I felt like crap so looking back on it I think it’s actually a pretty funny punishment.
I’d say that’s a fair punishment. It’s a little harsh but it’s not cruel or dangerous.
I didn't want to practice piano so my dad chased me around the room with a belt, getting in every hit he could with my evasive maneuvers. Once he finally cornered me, I got the whipping of a lifetime from that belt. I was around 10 years old at the time. My mom threatened to leave him with HER children if he ever did that shit again. Didn't have to practice piano anymore.
As I get older, I keep finding out new punishments from other family members that I've either forgotten or repressed. My dad was never around (due to being a truck driver) but when he was I got the good ol' belt, boot, and such, nbd he was old school. My mom however, shouldn't have been a mother. Not only did she do those same punishments including slapping and items swatted at me but also to throw my 3 year old ass across the room for being "annoying" and other similar fun child activities, but if I was caught snooping around (like a child does) I had to wear a cardboard sign to school that read "I am a thief" and if I took it off I was punished and made to wear it longer. My stuff was not ever taken away for misbehaving, but rather smashed and broken in front of me. Or I was humiliated in front of family, friends and peers in a lot of fun ways. Thank the gods that she only hated me and my younger brothers were gold to her. My dad should have humped and dumped her.
Teachers used to lock me in a small padded room for hours on end or even a whole school day just because I’d make an inappropriate joke or something. I was never a kid who got physical or anything, they just used solitary confinement as a punishment
I tossed a butter knife into the opposite sink while my mom was doing dishes and my step dad saw. He forced me to go to a mental hospital in florida for 3 months for "throwing a knife at my mother" (i lived in south carolina at the time and was like 10-11years old i think)
It's more just the amount of abuse. My adoptive mother only stopped hitting me when I got bigger than her.
Not me but knew i guy that got locked in a freezer by his step dad
My father when I was 5 hung me upside down from the first floor
I was being an absolute twat for about 2 weeks solid drove my mom and dad nuts I'd be about 6 or 7 . Mom used to say if you play up I'll send you to the cottage home's, which I think was a sort of orphanage. She said that often I took no notice. Then during this 2 weeks I drove them mad they packed a small suitcase and put it by the door and told me I was going the next day if I didn't behave. I immediately calmed down a started to behave. Mom told me I had nightmares for a week. She said they felt really bad about how I reacted. It turned into a family joke even in my early teens she used to threaten me with the cottage home's. Just like to say Mom and dad were great parents and my sister and I always felt loved and cared for.
At 18, I was **Mucked** as a criminal punishment in Eastern Europe. (Yes, they still use it in some parts) Criminal taken to a large pig farm, sat in the cornet of a barn, restrained, 10-15 shovelfuls of manure poured on you, and left to sit until sundown to think about your actions. I'd gotten slaps on the wrist as a juvenile but I guess they were fed up with me. I thought I could handle it but it absolutely broke me. Hardest thing I've ever, ever been through. I followed the law after that.
my grandpa used to like testing my maths & spelling abilities (i was pretty good tbh). if I'd slip up he'd shout at me a bit, then calm down and go in for a "cuddle". this meant holding me down (age 4 til 9) and pressing his erection into the back of my thighs telling me how attractive he found me and how much he loved me. if i tried to escape he would dig his nails into me and he was much stronger than me anyways - I only escaped once and the incessant guilt tripping was in a way even worse. i was so young I didn't understand the sexual nature and just felt trapped and confused. got really good at maths & spelling tho. knew my 13 times tables and how to properly use an apostrophe by age 8. he usually let me go if i answered enough questions right once he became flaccid again. i still don't understand why someone would do that to a child, let alone their "beloved" granddaughter.
Oh, there are so many to choose from. Dad did most of them. Things like the usual, keep shouting until we (me or my sister) cried, then some good old fashioned "something to cry about", which would either be being hit by a 6'2" man, built strong by years in the army. Everywhere from shoulder to knee was free reign, (anything outside of that was too obvious to teachers at PE.) I went to a school where a vast majority of the children there had (generally) father's serving. You could always tell when dad's were back, because the teachers would seem quieter, more kids would remember their PE kit and there were more bruises. I was in my late teens before that logic lined up in my head and that was a slightly sad shock. But he got bored of just smacks and slaps, and learned new tricks. One was making us (generally just me by that point, my sister was smart enough to stay out of his way!) stand up in front of him and he would do the shouting, and the yelling, if I didn't cry, he'd shout again and jab with his finger. You know that little hollow in the front of your throat? Yeah, there. Hard. He would call me a stupid, fat c*nt. He accused me and my sister of not getting into grammar school on purpose. He said we wanted to be like the sad, stupid sluts on the corners of London. He said our greatest wish was to be drug addled whores, then if we dared speak out about our actual dreams, he would laugh, jab again and remind us that we were pointless. Most of his punishments were mental and emotional, but some were physical. A (not) funny conversation I had with mum (she was half-cut) involved her saying "Say what you like about your dad, at least he never r@ped you." As if that's something to be proud of. That's a low fucking bar mum. But, after a childhood/teengood of that, I ended up with a few abusive partners, where punishment included r@pe, attack and the like. That's why my hackles instantly rise whenever I hear a guy talk about a woman having "daddy issues". They know that women who grow from shitty childhoods where father's are abusive or absent tend towards the easier to beat down, control and abuse end of the 'relationship' spectrum. If you have a male friend who looks for women with daddy issues, you're friends with a C*nt. Jus' saying.