My Lord Where did I Go Wrong

I grew up in average family, my father was a drunk, who loved to drink and then beat-up or humiliated my mother in front of everyone, then afterwards just rape her. He was that type of person who never admits he is wrong or says his feeling sorry. Bragging was his main feature due to high status of his family, even though his father was a bad man. My father also liked to humiliate me because I didn’t always agree with him. As a child I listened to everything he said, when I did something naughty he used to make me and my baby sister fall on our knees and stand for long time. He was lazy and very rarely worked or looked for a job to earn.. mostly he would borrow money from someone and only then to return it back he had to do something, then he borrowed it again, endless depths that’s all. He was very sarcastic and egotistical man.

My mother had a psychological disorders, she suffered from panic attacks, and often took it out on all of us. All the help we tried to provide she turned them all down, due to her narcissistic personality she blamed my father and us for everything. She didn’t believe in medical advice nor did she trusted a doctors. Sleepless nights and mornings continued in our house, she was a total tyrant, who loved to spend money on clothes rather then buying food. And mostly she quoted bible to justify her actions.

Not everything was that bad, like the saying goes: IT CANT RAIN ALL THE TIME

There was time when everyone were just happy and helping each other too, love and believe in God surrounded our family. All things we wanted parents bought them for us, financially and emotionally they were always there for us.

Now I’m 35 years old no wife, no family just my father and mother, who still continues to involve me in their drama. I pray to God every morning and night and daily asking questions and trying to reach to God — asking him, why he cursed me like this…. I know I’m not saint either, I said too many times bad and painful words in return, which put them both through suffering, I don’t think I was and am a good son…

This is story about my childhood friend Mark, who shared his thoughts and pain with me, who I supported as much as I could. May you rest in peace my dear brother and friend.