Fortunately, I was never physically abused as a kid. For my father, it was because his father was quick to resort to physical discipline at the slightest bit of perceived disrespect, but for my mother, she simply didn't want it to be weaponized against her later down the line, which tends to be her primary motivator for certain parenting methods.
In terms of physical neglect, they've always worked hard to provide clothes, food, a roof over my head, and even some luxuries (primarily toys and electronics) whenever possible. However, my mother had a very bad habit of neglecting me medically.
Growing up, I had congenital hypothyroidism (anyone who knows what that is is probably confused as to why I used 'had,' but I'll explain it in a bit), so I was required to visit an endocrinologist every 6 months to have my hormone levels checked, which would let the endocrinologist know if I needed to have my dosage of Levothyroxine raised or lowered. However, my mom often forgot to schedule these endocrinologist appointments—whether willfully or not, I'm not sure. It would get to the point where they would have to threaten to cut off my Levothyroxine supply if she didn't bring me in, which would result in me going to see the endocrinologist every 12 months (or more, if she somehow managed to convince them to not cut me off immediately). Not only that, but she also neglected to schedule dental visits for me throughout my childhood and adolescent years. In comparison to the mandatory endocrinologist visits, routine dental appointments are not that big of a deal, but the lack of attention on dental healthcare early on has resulted in me, now as an adult, finding that out that my gums are irreversibly damaged and most likely had been progressively getting damaged throughout my adolescent years.
The potential reason behind this medical neglect? My mom simply distrusts healthcare providers and sees them as money-grubbing psychopaths that seek to swindle every penny from helpless patients that don't know any better, which is only exacerbated by both her and my father's belief that the healthcare providers purposefully gave me my congenital hypothyroidism by putting me on medications at a young age. This belief is further confirmed(?) by the fact that, as of today, I don't have hypothyroidism anymore since my hormone levels were fine without the Levothyroxine last time they were checked. (My parents were unwilling to bring me back in to get checked again, and since I was both broke and freshly 18, I didn't do much to stop them.)
As for the emotional side of things, I am pretty sure I was, at worst, emotionally abused or, at best, emotionally neglected by both of my parents. Saying my father couldn't handle his own emotions would be an understatement. The slightest disobedience, disrespect, or even inability to live up to his standards would call him to loudly shout at you for hours, enough to make your ears ring afterwards. Furthermore, though he never physically disciplined me (which he is proud of), he was a frequent utilizer of the phrase: "If you want to cry so much, I'll give you a reason to cry." He also often demonized me whenever he was shouting at me, claiming I was some manipulator that seeks to deceive him for my own gratification.
However, the effects my father had on me pales in comparison to my mother's effects on me. For one, she was, and still is, filled with so much regret that she would frequently and unsubtly bring them up whenever I couldn't easily escape the conversation. Her regrets over marrying my father and conceiving children? They quickly turned into lessons about how love is only a stressful inconvenience that shouldn't be entertained and that having children is something I should never do since they're nothing but a nuisance. Granted, I more or less agree with these statements, especially her anti-natalist stance, but even as a kid, I could tell what she was actually trying to say; she was just dressing up this resentment as valuable life lessons. Actually, it is because of her that I wish to CTB. I've mentioned it once in a different thread, but my mother is passively suicidal, constantly yearning for the day God finally takes her away from this world via a car accident. Because of this, she taught me at an early age that being an independent adult is basically just a hellish existence where you work to make someone else richer while you get poorer. Of course, an optimist would think that her belief would cause her to educate herself on Marxism and things she could do to reduce the power of the bourgeoisie class, but the reality was that she taught me that just living is painful and full of suffering with little to no upsides to the point where death was a preferable, and even smart, choice. In a comedic sense, I was literally raised to CTB.
Additionally, despite claiming she never cared about how much money she spent raising me, she watched every change in her checking account and always made sure to remind me how much money she "wasted" on me. Remember those endocrine appointments I mentioned earlier? Well, she'd constantly remind me how expensive they were and how much money she'd have to spend on medication just to keep me alive. It's precisely because of this that I'm off my meds since, out of both frustration and a desire to die, I just stopped taking Levothyroxine in high school. Eventually, when I didn't die (after my parents took ages to realize I hadn't been taking my meds), I had to be brought in for my last appointment where they found out my hormone levels were completely normal. She'd even complain about money she'd have to spend on buying supplies needed for school despite how she wanted me to be at the top of my class. She also was a terrible person to confide in, which might've been obvious. She has her own trauma that causes her to think like this, but it still hurts to be blamed for the bullying I experienced as a kid because I "asked for it" by "not speaking up." There had been multiple instances in the past where someone would do wrong by me—break my things, say something rude, etc—and, when I'd tell my mother, she'd assert that I must've compelled them to do so because, in her words, "why are you the only one who gets bullied?"
Ultimately, my parents were there for me physically, but they either weren't there for me emotionally or just made things worse. I just wanted to rant about my childhood experiences.
