I find a lot of stuff online about mothers being horrible to daughters. But I don't find a whole lot on the net about mothers and sons. I guess I want to just tell my story and see what everyone else's thoughts are. That's one way to heal I suppose.

I'm in my 30s and I would say my mother is one of the reasons for my distrust and inability to connect to women in my adulthood. She was a fat bitch. Very obese. She would later get gastric bypass and now she looks like a shell of a once fat person. She still doesn't look well. Growing up with her when my parents were still together, I didn't like her even then. She was always very angry. She complained a lot. She wanted more than what my father could provide. He was trying hard on his retail store salary to raise his two sons and to support his wife.

When my brother and I would act like normal boys. Such as roughhouse and play around inside. She would get extremely angry. Looking back it didn't make much sense to me. We weren't doing anything wrong. And it was always at times when my father was never around to see it. Many times she would use a wooden spatula on us. Just because we were too loud. There were times where she threw dishes at us. I remember hiding under things. One time she dragged my brother by the leg only to hurt him. This was nothing like just a spank on the behind.

One thing that constantly sticks out in my mind even today is when she destroyed my gameboy. It was a Christmas gift. I might have been 9 or 10 at the time. My brother and I were fighting over who got to play it next. So my mother angrily took it and threw it against the wall only to break it. Because of her, at a young age, I subconsciously learned that being loud or being slightly out of line meant someone was going to get angry at me and hurt me. My younger brother went a different route where he developed a temper just like my mother. It was later I visited her one time and she told me that she was arrested for abuse of my step-brother.

My mother would constantly complain about life and her supposed inability to change it. She blamed shadows for her problems. (This might have rubbed off onto me in my teens.) Since she couldn't drive because of her bad eyesight. She would use that as her reason for not being able to get in shape or feel good about herself. She desired a wealthy life despite there was no way my father could provide that. Later in adulthood, I learned that my mother wanted a third child. Probably because she wanted to feel needed. She was starting to lose interest in my brother and I because we were now starting to develop our own personalities. So, when I was 12, my mother slept with another man and got pregnant.

After my parents divorced I still met with my mom and her new husband and child. Looking back, I don't know why I was so accepting of it. After the initial shock, I felt like things returned to normal, but things were never normal. The whole thing stunted my growth. Being around my mother at that time, she would demonized my father and his parents. For a long time I hated my father. When I didn't have any reason to. I really loved my dad when I was a child. But I blamed my father for the divorce and if only he had a better job or a better education. Then things would have been different I thought. My father came from a much more stable family than my mother. My mother and her brothers were raised by a single mother. Her brother were popular athletes in high school while she was overweight. Now they're all over weight, and one of her brother already is dead because of obesity.

I now don't visit my mother. I used to visit sometimes when I was home for break. But whenever I visited it always left me feeling like it would have been better if I didn't bother. Lately everyone is getting older and I was wondering if I should visit her one last time just to get this off my chest and yell at her about all these things. But I don't know if that is even worth it. Would it really do much?