Originally Posted by DJ_Duane
From early childhood, I was verbally and emotionally abused by my mother's boyfriend. He never missed an opportunity to insult me or to put me down in some way. He never did it in my mother's presence, only when she went out of the house for some reason.I could never do anything right. Nothing I did ever earned me any praise from him in even the slightest way. Even my accomplishments were criticised with comments that "You could have done better." or "You did this part wrong.". Even when my mother was around, he never spoke to me directly, preferring to talk about me as if I wasnt there, even when I was in the same room.
When I got a job as a strip club DJ in 1987 at a club called "The Classic Cat", I finally was earning enough money to support myself and was able to move out of my mother's home and live on my own. What prompted me to finally move out was an argument I had with him, in fact.
I came home from my day job and was getting ready to go to work at the club. As soon as I walked in the door, the insults started. I was lazy. I didnt clean my room. I was stupid. etc etc etc.
I decided, fo ronce to answer him back. Over the years, I had simply taken the insults and slights with silence as my response. That day was different. We actually had an argument, yelling at each other. Years of his BS with me as the silent victim were over and I let him know it. He finally said "Well, if you dont like it, why dont you move out?" and he slammed the door behind me as I left.
That night, I got a friend that I worked with to let me move in with him, since his current roommate was leaving Hawaii. When I got home, I told my mother I was moving out, though I didnt tell her why. I didnt tell her that it was going to come to blows between me and her boyfriend if the situation continued. I just figured that she would be happier with me gone and thay could live together more happily if I was out of the picture.
Between the time I moved out and my mother's death in 1992, I was my mother's primary means of financial support. I told her never to tell anyone - including her boyfriend - that I was giving her money. When she was on her deathbed, she revealed our secret to our entire family.
After her death, my sister told me that mom's boyfriend was asking about me evry so often. How I was. What I was doing. Would I be coming over from Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner to my sister's house. My sister got along with him okay and she even called him "dad", which my brother and I refused to do, and he would visit my sister often at her home. It seemed from what my siater said that he wanted to patch things up, especially in light of what everyone had found out about what I did for mom.
I was not interested. He had years - decades, in fact - to patch things up while my mom was alive and he never took the opportunity. Ever.
I never wanted to see him again or even speak to him. He didnt exist as far as I was concerned. I told my sister how I felt and why, so she would stop inviting me over to her house. When he was there, which was often, I would not be. I didnt even want to be there if there was the slightest chance he might show up, since I would immediately knock him on his ass.
Years later, I was awakened by a phone call from my brother's girlfriend, telling me that mom's boyfriend had died and asking me if I would like to attend the funeral. I told her that I was not interested in attending anything related to him.
From the day of my mother's funeral to the day of his own death, he and I never saw each other or spoke to each other, despite several pleas from my sister.
To this day, I still carry the emotional scars of his verbal and emotional abuse. I could never forgive the way he treated me and memories of him still stir-up feelings of deep hatred and bitterness.
Just getting this off my chest.