what kind of childhood did you have?

I'm just asking this question out of interest...

a violent one....

i had rather not remember mine, cuz i really didnt have one.

I can't remember much of mine, and judging from the few memories I have, that's just as well. So I wanted 'I can't remember'.

I voted Bad.... why??? I do not really want to get into it... I certainly am not seeking pity....

I had what I consider to be a good childhood but I really don't have a point of reference, maybe someone else woould have considered my childhood bad..

If you think you had a good childhood, stick to that. No point in creating msery.

That's what I think too, I can't remember much of it but of what I can remember none of it was bad.

i didn't create this poll to dish out pity...just if anyone wanted to discuss their own experiences to help others...

thanks everyone for replying, it's appreciated :p .

I was just clarifying as some people on this site tend to take things way out of context..... I know you did not start it for that reason.... I would share my little jaunt through childhood but I do not think anyone cares or gives half a shit... lets just say that it was comparable at times to the Christian version of Hell...

uuh...okay..don't mean to sound gooey or anything, but i do care. but it's your mind, so wether you want to share or not... :metalhead thats cool.

hehe.. gooey... gooey like bubble gum... or gooey like seeing your parents make-out??? hehehe...

Maybe.... I will..
I dunno how talking about my childhood would help anyone... beyond showing them perhaps why I think the way I do or act the way I do.. though a certain percentage of who I am is derived from my childhood a good bit of it comes from my illustrious Adult Life...

well...uh...it'd help me, cuz i'm still at the late childhood stages of life.

uuuh, i'll go with gooey like bubble gum...

hehe gooey like bubble gum... hehe...

Well let it be said that when we are Kids most usually what our elders tell us go in one ear and out the other.... we tend to like the texture of our own experience rather than the hearsay of another persons...

My family was dirt poor when I was growing up.... so I really never had the luxuries of todays youth.. computers, console games, cable television, or good Psychiatrists either...
I was the kid that was always the brunt of all the others jokes....
I had to learn how to fight just to defend myself from those that wished to pound those jokes into my head rather than speak them behind my back....
I was considered a Gifted Student when in grade school yet this did nothing to stop the teasing nor to give me any luxuries...
All I really had was writing.... than at the age of 12 I was raped by someone whom I trusted... this was wayyy before the illuminating times we live in today where every child knows what is good and what is bad.... I lived with that secret in my head till I was 18 and I had a girlfriend who wondered why I was so abhorred by Sex.... I have since gotten over this horror, or fear if you will... though I still find myself having issues with dominate sexual partners.... She was the first to ever hear my little secret...
at the age of 14 my Father died from a long and fruitless battle against Diabetes and kidney failure.... it was a double blow for me.. I became a hermit.... my High School years were very bad...
I began to cut classes left and right.... I valued the education but I hated the social stigma.... I still can taste the bitterness in my mouth from the berating I used to take at the hands of other cruel students..... people in general tend to be a cruel lot.... though this does not mean you have to be cruel... I knew this and just stopped going to school altogether.... I sacraficed my education for my well-being.... Noone ever knew either except for the school officials... I kept my Mom in the dark through a clever adress switch that left the school with no way to contact her... worked well....
At the age of 17 my Mom got sick of me... she felt that I had betrayed her trust when she found out that I had cut half of my sophomore year and all of the next one..... so she surprised me by sending me to my Real Father who I really did not know...
And let me tell you the ensuing six months were hell.....
I can talk to my Real Father now as we are good friends but back than... as soon as I got on that flight back to California from my Dads in Hawaii I vowed to never talk to him again as he was moving and was going to leave me on Oahu with NOTHING... just my clothes... abandon me pretty much.... so I lied cheated and stole till I had enough money to get a plane ticket back to Ca.
hehe My Mum was none to pleased to see me at her door at the age of 18 begging to be let back in.....
I did not speak to my Dad for seven years.... looong time... he would write me and I would just tear the letters up and toss them...
At 18 when i moved in one stipulation was getting a Job which i did.... three months later... June2,1986 My friend flipped his Karman Ghea with me as a passenger... he was going 110MPH into a 35MPH corner... I flew out after the first flip... after it was all said and done I had two compression fractures of the spine 75% of my back was road rash and evulsions..... concussion... and other very ouchie stuff....
For several years after I lived each day as if it was just an extension of that day.... not until than did I begin to wonder what the hell I was doing with my life... still have not figured it out at 33 but at least I am wondering... hehe

Ummmm.... yeah... there is more that I passed over I am sure...
But that is the basic context of it....
My advice to you...
Never lose your Will....
Do not allow others to mold you as they see fit...
And kill any motherfucker that tries to rape you...
Do not go gentle into that good night...

mine was pretty good i guess...
yupyup, that's my story and i stickin to it...

Mine was pretty good. My parents were divorced, and so we had very little money. Since we lived in a pretty 'well off' neighborhood (clothes were important) my school life was not the best. My parents however were/are great.

When I was 12 my mother remarried, which gave me a second father and a little sister. My own personal, live baby doll. Money problems weren't as bad, and we moved to a new neighborhood. Life was much better after that. No matter how bad things were as far as money went, however, I've always had the support of all three of my parents.

I was very lucky that way

Kat

Thanx very much dyshade. i appreciate you letting all that out. your advice will be taken strongly. Proud to say i've already beaten a mutherfucker who 'half-raped' me, shall we say,and have beaten up a dipshit who raped my friend...

People who commit that crime should be dragged through the streets and stoned to death... if only the christians would get it right... stone the rapists and not the Faithless... maybe one day...???

Bad, although better than some.