I don't count myself as having a childhood. My father was an alchoholic/diabetic. He had no use for medication or counceling. During a 7 year period he had 8 jobs to my moms 1. Fired from them all because of his temper. My mom was usually the brunt of this. Me, he just neglected and ignored. Children were women's work. After picking me up at the sitters one day from work, we came home to find an empty house. No furniture, his stuff and half of hers and all of mine, gone. We move some 400 miles to my grandparents home. Year and a half later my grandfather dies. Two years after that the rape started by a nextdoor neighbor. Mom thought he would be a good replacement for my granddad. The rape went on for 2 years during early part of elementry school. All the while being told to trust and obey adults. I was a child and didn't know anything. So when I was made to promise not to talk to anyone, wel........You get the idea. From then on until after highschool, I was the man of the house. After school was homework, then cook super, water and weed flower and vegetable beds, pick any ripe veggies. Weekends were more yard work and cleaning the house. Summer breaks were intense cleaning of basement, house, flowerbed and garden planting and weeding, and general up keep of the property. I couldn't associate with anyone who didn't meet my mom's interview qualifications. So an only child turns to art and books. I ended up going into the Army with PTSD and not knowing it. The service only made it worse. Hard to hide from a bunch of other guys that you weren't socialized properly. Finally, in my late 30s I started to get a little therapy. In my midfifties I am in a PTSD only group at the local VA. I didn't know about this group until today. I am planning on sharing the address with my therapist. There are at least 2 others in group that could be here. I've made a lot of progress, but have a long way to go. That bad seed was buried far too long before being brought to the light and dealt with. My mom is in her mideighties and still doesn't know about it. Not much point in going to the nursing home and telling her now. Hope to make some friends here. I've been using my art as therapy. Sometimes it can go to some dark places.