Mum's serial misbehavior over the years had driven me, despairing, to write her scolding - occasionally scalding letters.
My parents had some problems of their own that put me in a position of having to deal with very grown-up stuff at a very young age. I needed some help with that, therapy-wise.
My dad was such a bigot. He was a horrible, self-centred person. He was really racist and he'd talk about the Jews and blacks and Catholics even.
Sometimes just looking at [my parents] I wanted to bash their heads with a tire iron. Not to kill them, just to wake them up.
A lot of things in 'Parents' I find very truthful.
Don't worry about your father. He's a perfectly contented, self-sufficient zombie.
I hated hurting him. Most of the time, I could forget about it, but the inexorable truth is this: They might be glad to have me around, but I was the alpha and the omega of my parents' suffering.
My father was a very difficult man.
I once fell in love with a man only because we both belonged to that large and secret club of children who had "crazy mothers." We traded stories of the shameless houses to which we could never invite our friends.
The first time I went to therapy, I had to stop going because they were making me hate my parents.
I want to know about my mom. And other stuff. I want to know the whole story, good or bad.” “Me, too,” said Gazzy. “I want to find my parents so I can tell’m what total scuzzes they are. Like, ‘Hi, mom and dad, you’re such scum!
I had to get in touch with the source, I had to go back into my abandonment issues with my mother, I had to go into issues with my father I hadn't even looked at before.
It was good for us, I suppose. Those kinds of times produce qualities in us that make us better for having had them. My parents were not getting along. My mother was quite intolerant of friendships that were being developed.
At the last parent visitation night I'd sorta accidentally watched a majorly nightmarish scene between Aphrodite and her parents. Her dad's the mayor of Tulsa. Her mom might be Satan.
It's no secret that I have, at best, a strained and awkward relationship with my dad. The Wasserman family - my mom, my sister, Lew and Edie - raised me. They are the people I define as my family.
I grew up in a very relaxed environment in one sense, without many rules. My mother had a problem knowing where to draw the line, which caused a chaotic and hectic home life. A lot of people took advantage of my mom.
I forgive my mom for being a psycho and my dad for being a loser.
If I had to live my life over again, I would have a different father, a different wife and a different religion.
My mother was crazy.
I was born to teenage parents who got married young and divorced early.
Once again, her parents' problems had run through her life like a piece of heavy equipment, smashing everything in their way.
My father's drinking was sometimes a problem. And a great deal went unspoken. He was not particularly acute or articulate about the emotions. But he was very affectionate towards me.
My formative years were all shaped by a mother who was very sad and had a drinking problem, while my father was lonely and angry. He was an Episcopal priest and raised four kids on his own.
My mother's life was way too heavy for me.
I never got along with my dad. Kids used to come up to me and say, 'My dad can beat up your dad.' I'd say 'Yeah? When?'
