if my parents weren’t my parents, i wouldn’t like them. and if i wasn’t their son, they wouldn’t like me. it’s a strange mix. they’ll keep praying for me and hope that i convert to their religion. im a disappointment to them probably.
i would feel the same about dad as i feel about his tuesday morning prayer meeting friends. a bunch of guys wanting power and influence and praying for it.
i don’t even like talking to these guys, who would just air my business to strangers if i told them anything.
You can’t choose your parents.
Family are there to look after each other though.
I almost got sucked into a “religious vortex,” for lack of a better term. Pray the sz away basically. Meds = Satan to them. I got the fark away from them real quick and made it clear they were not welcome in my presence any longer.
it’s probably because Jesus healed the sick,
performed miracles. well, yes, I believe in miracles,
but I also believe in modern medicine.
the history of mental illness treatment is not good.
It’s funny you say this now. I have just spent the last few days realizing the same thing. My mom and I just didn’t like each other. We were two completely different people, with different personalities, and completely different value systems.
But… I know she cared about me. And I care about her too
I have gone through periods of despising my parents…
throughout every moment of it… I could ever imagine having any different ones.
They are obviously the only two people that I myself could come from. That both scientifically and philosophically correct… but emotionally… I’ve never wanted different ones.
Sure my mom is a little shallow… and yeah my dad is a burnt sociopath narcissist on one side… but Like I’d want to be introduced to different problems then I already have.
They are just people. Life was whole lot different circa 1960…
I love them. I do what I gotta do to keep them out of my way. They are unfortunately outdated and their opinions are as difficult as they are trite… but, oh well oh well. I just hope that they enjoy everything they can in life.
you should read my poem, “The White Shirt”
I think it brought the house down when I read it to all in attendance.
spoke to my generation, about our fathers.
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