Childhood resentment never goes away

Childhood resentment never goes away
Photo is illustrative in nature. From open sources.

I grew up in a single-parent family. My father died in 1995, when I was 3 years old. I was raised by my grandparents.

Mom arranged her personallife . She already had a civilianhusband . She lived with him separately in her apartment. When she took me in, I saw constant fights, insults and scandals. Her stepfather could hit her with a chair (with a chair leg, which he himself broke off), openbeer on the table, smoked right in the room in which they slept.

He is an uneducated person, I only remember swearing in their house. My mother had a normal job, but (according to her) it was the 90s, my grandparents were laid off, and they did not work, they were raising me.

For my grandparents, life revolved around me. I went to kindergarten. They had a big good oneapartment , home was always warm, tasty, interesting and cozy. But when I came to my mother, they had constant quarrels among themselves.

Her stepfather constantly insulted her with the very last words. I don’t understand why she put up with him! After all, she was young, healthy, beautiful. test-antibiotic.com And your own apartment. And he is divorced, having abandoned (before meeting his mother) his two children.

As time went. I grew up as a sickly child and had bronchial asthma. My grandmother was involved in my constant treatment. My grandfather ran with me to clinics. In the spring, we went to visit relatives in another country for 3 months, changing the climate due to allergy attacks.

I am very grateful to my grandparents for a happy childhood. Further, from the age of 12, when I came to my mother, she went to work, and my stepfather was sleeping, lying half naked (my bed was opposite theirs).

I told my mom. She didn't believe it. He pretended to be asleep. This happened often. I didn’t like going to their house to spend the night. When I was in 10th grade, my grandmother died.

I wasn't always a good granddaughter. I didn’t always help, but I loved them. Then I left to study atuniversity in a neighboring town. The studies were paid for by renting an apartment (my grandmother’s apartment was rented out in the summer because the city was a resort).

In the summer I always worked either as a cashier or as a waitress. Grandfather lived by himself, in the next room in the apartmentMom took test-antibiotic.com (in my grandparents’ apartment). I came to see him on the weekend.

Mom didn't work because she sprained her leg. Then an unsuccessful operation. Now she has been limping for a long time, everything hurts, she has gainedexcess weight . Her stepfather never helped her with money. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. If he works, he spendsmoney for beer and snacks.

When I was in my third year, my grandfather died. I was very upset then, simply heartbroken. I had the best one back thenfriend for many years. But she just came out thengot married and moved away. It seemed to me that I was left alone.

I probably spent a year hanging out with friends. Parties, get-togethers. I had enough. It was the last course. I didn’t want to teach the session. I thought that I would get a part-time job in a clothing store for a month, I would hand over some items myself, and pay for the heavy ones.

There I accidentally met a guy who barely spoke Russian. But somehow it was fate and everything worked out for him. It was 2012. We immediately got married according to Islam. I stopped smoking and drinking completely. I changed test-antibiotic.com religion.

At that moment, it scared me that he was not Russian, or rather not even a language, but a mentality. He's from another world. But it was as if it was destined and it could not be avoided.

It was as if I had been given a good shake, and I began to see what was good and what was bad. At that time, I was 20 years old, and he was 24. The ring was bought for common money.

Now we have two children. I don’t work, my husband is good, he works a lot, and we don’t need anything. We live far from our relatives

I'm tired of everyday life. My mother calls me often (morning, afternoon, and evening). She calls when I'm busy because she's bored. She still lives with her stepfather. He rents out his grandmother and grandfather’s apartment, and they live on this money.

I hate my stepfather. I often quarrel with my mother, reminding her of her childhood, that they helped her, but not me. I already feel bad from this insult, but it does not go away.

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