I have a mom that is not a very nice mother at all. Now, I know you must be thinking I have done something that deserves this or I have extreme opinions that are unjustified. I thought those things myself, and grew up thinking maybe I was really not treated that badly. I might also be looking back on these things and manufactoring opinions that are not as realistic as they should be. This is not the case for me, and now I know. I have a list of events that will support this fully. Let me start from the beginning. This is a big story, and will take a little time just to cover the surface, and there will be shortness in the tales as I go along in the interest of staying to the point which is ---> I have a mean mom. I first want to use some psychology references to point to the defects I am talking about in my mother, and to give the defects some kind of a label, though psychology labels are popular and come and go as newer ideas are expressed. I do not consider psychology labels 100% reliable. They do not explain all the things that occur in the human mind. However, you have to have some basis, and some of these labels are strong enough in principle to have some basic base merit. I will reference the ones that I feel most relevent and the ones I feel are most supported in this forum. I was born in the early 60's to a middle class family in the midwest where I was the only child. (not really, but I thought I was the only child.) I was raised by a very nice father, (a complete pushover really), and a mean mother who broke my toys, stomped on them when I spilled wheaties on the floor one time, I was 5 years old then and I still remember it VERY well. I was 7 when my mom made me stay at home with a temperature of 105 for 4 weeks or so, and only after 4 weeks of a temperature of 104-105 did she finally allow me to go to the hospital. I got a shot of penecillin and was better in 3 hours. I was left after school for hours and hours in middle school years, my parents completly forgetting to pick me up. My Dad is completly forgetful and my mom just doesn't care about me. Yet, when times got tough, she would buy me the nicest things for being good and doing chores etc. You would think that she loved me dearly at times. She would in the end point me away from her, and the minute I turned 18 she said you are outta here. I moved out 3 months after my 18th birthday, and returned only briefly a few times as I tried to go to school, and get an education. She allowed me only to be home if I was going to school. If I worked, I was to get my own place. This seems like good parenting skills, tough love and all of that, and I want to point out that I do not feel real bad about that. I think it is pertty tough, but maybe I needed that kind of love in my life at that point. I know some of these things were not right. My mom had quite a temper, and she was an atheist. My Dad a strong church-going christian. I know that she was extreme, and to break my things required retaliation on my part. She broke my toys, I ground her Hummmel Figurines into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle placing the powder where her figure had once stood on display. This battle did not last long, and my defiance was rewarded with her leaving me alone. Especially when at age 9 when she slapped me in the face I punched her lights out. I was not always a violent child, only towards her, and only in retaliation for something she did to me first. I have never been in jail for violence, never hit a woman, and never started fights in bars or anything like that. I had developed a temper, but I knew it was a problem, and worked with anger management systems, and my works free counseling program to develope a plan to avoid anger. I also studied martial arts to learn self-descipline. I got a black belt in 3 matial arts in this process, as there was a lot of anger to over-come. It worked, and to this day I do much better, it really takes a lot to set me off now. I have learned to basically be calmer in the face of adversity. These are all important things, but not part of the story, and only sets the backdrop to the things my mom has done to me in more recent times as an adult, and I have not gone in to her history growing up which is critical in this story and complaint. My mom was also born in the midwest to a poorer family, where she grew up with an overachieving sister, and a strict father. I remember hearing about how she was only allowed to use 3 sheets of toilet paper per day for cost savings. I heard many such stories, butt that one stands out. She went on to college and earned a degree in a science field. She was very successful in all means it appeared. It turns out she got pregnant twice while in college and hid this from everyone on planet earth that she new personally, including her family. She had 2 boys and gave them up for adoption. I was never told about this, and maybe it would have never mattered, but of course 1 of the boys found her in later years, (2 years ago) and she denied to his face that she was his mother when he had all the documentation proving otherwise. He was a great slueth, and a medical doctor himself, so he had access to things in hospitals that maybe we average people might not have access to. He was able to find out about the other child being born even. I was never told about him even when he came back, and my mom pretended I never existed to him. No matter, he did find out about me, and told my mom either she tell me or he would. She finally told me just last year. Almost a year after he confronted her himself. He and I were lied to in great details. We asked if there were any more children in the past. She lied and said no. We found hospital records and birth records of another brother. We confronted her again, and she said, yes, there was another, but she was not going to help us. She refused to help, and started attacking us both. She was particularly hard on my new found brother (who is actually a half-brother genetically speaking). She may have reason for hiding these things, but we think not since we found out who the father was. He has been dead for 2 decades. I think there is little to hide, her mom and dad (my grandparents) are also dead, and only her sister is left. My mom told her sister (my aunt) , so there was no hiding anything there now either. So, why would she still insist on not helping to find another brother? What is up with this? How wrong, how hurtful, how sad? I am sick of this, and I gave my mom so many opportunities and I forgave her, and told her all she had to do was come clean on this one final thing and all would be forgiven. I have a GREAT desire to meat my 3rd brother. I may never be able to do that since she is withholding information about where he was sent. We only know he was born and adopted to a family in another state. She has knows more, and has been taking trips to that state, etc, and she will not tell. She is a mean mean mean mean mother if you ask me.....I wish I could tell more, but that is all this forum allows. I think you get the idea though....