I am currently 36 years old. I have a brother who is currently 38 years old.

My mother was exactly like most of the BM's we discuss on here. She bad-mouthed our father; made visitation impossible; financially sucked him dry; and replaced him in our lives with every man she let stick a penis between her legs. The stories I could tell you about her would be no different than what you currently watch your skids go through.

She had done such a good job at destroying my relationship with my biological father, that at 8 years old, I was convinced that I hated him. When she married her second husband, he was pushed on us, pushed on us, and pushed on us and our "new dad." Then, she proposed that my biological dad give up his rights so that this new husband of hers could adopt us. I remember she asked us, "would you want him to be your dad?"

Shit. What the fuck??

We both said, "yes."

I mean, why would I want my biological father to be my dad anymore? I heard nothing but horrible stories about what a terrible person he was. I mean, he was a terrible, terrible, person. On top of that, he never even bothered to come to pick us up so that he could spend time with us. Hardly ever.

But I had no idea what was really happening. The stories were all lies. All of them. And why wasn't he coming to get us? Because our mother wouldn't let him. Plain and simple. She jerked him around and made it impossible. She always referred to him as, "Rick the Dick." Never, "your dad." In fact, I remember calling him "Rick the Dick" to his face once. I remember not wanting to go spend the weekend with him, because, you know, it would have meant that I was going to miss out on the trip to the water park or the camping trip that my mom had planned. Having to go spend time with him was a punishment and meant that I had to miss out on the real fun.

Then there was the fact that making this new man my new Daddy was clearly what my mom wanted. So...

Come to find out, it was all just a sick fucking game to her. My brother and I were just pawns. Nothing more.

So our biological father, well, he cut his losses. Our mother was Satan to deal with. His children hated him. His life was Hell on Earth. My mother has NPD, Bi-polar and is possibly a sociopath. No exaggeration. My dad thought, "Why bother to fight it anymore?"

Honestly, what would it have gotten him to try to stick it out?

I assure you, once you've been on the receiving end of the wrath that is my mother - you don't easily forget what a horrible experience it is. She will stop at NOTHING to destroy, and I mean, DESTROY her target.

The courts then weren't what they are now. I'm not implying men have many more rights now than they did back then. But they do have slightly more than they used to. The courts never helped him enforce the parenting time. The never intervened on his behalf for anything. Every time he went to court, she was so good at lying and manipulating, that she got away with everything. We all know that it's possible. WE live it with the BM's of our skids.

As an adult, much, much later in life, I saw all of the documents, the pleas, the petitions, etc. I asked to see them.

I give the man a ton of credit now. He really did try. But It got him nowhere. He was going in circles.

I spent years of my life hating him because of his decision to walk away from me. I blamed HIM for everything. You see, Mom's new husband - our new dad - turned out to be a total monster. Their drug and alcohol abuse grew out on control. The physical and emotional abuse was pure torture. Oh, the stories I could tell you.

Flash forward to 15 years old. My biological dad sets up a time to meet with my brother and I. My brother wanted nothing to do with him. Me? I saw my chance. I wanted out. I needed help. It was either take this opportunity to get the fuck out of my mothers house and away from my adoptive father - or I was going to kill myself. Literally.

You see, my brother was graduating from High School that year and because he wanted out of the house too, he had already signed up to join the Navy the week following commencements. I was in a total panic. There was no way I was going to be able to live in that house without him.

So I took my chance. I ran away. I went to the school counselor/social worker and showed them the marks and bruises on my back from the 45 lashes with the belt. I was desperate. About a week later, I ended up at my biological father's house, who quickly petitioned the court for temporary custody.

I've got to give the man a shit ton of credit again. He jumped through hoops and went through hell and high water to help me out. I was so damaged at that point though. I was a horrible, miserable, totally abused and beaten down teenager and individual. He took me to therapy. He loved me even though I was rotten. He never stopped trying.

One thing lead to another in the custody battle between him and my mom/adoptive dad that the courts got fed up of all of the "He said/She said" and my mom/adoptive father denying everything that I was saying - that the judge ordered psychological evaluations on all four of us.

The results:

1. At the age of 16 years old, my mother and adoptive father could not have unsupervised visitation with me.
2. My mom and adoptive dad were ordered into drug and alcohol abuse counseling, individual counseling, marriage counseling and counseling with me.
3. I was ordered into weekly counseling.

My mom and adoptive father followed through with none of it. Actually, my adoptive father, since the gig was up - eventually just committed suicide. He chose death over having to be responsible for his behavior.

Flash forward to 2009:

I had my adoption rescinded and put my biological father back on my birth certificate as my father. I even took his last name again.

I cannot accurately describe how great it felt to be "home." To finally have a chance to be who I was meant to be all along.

My brother, well, he wanted nothing to do with our biological father for a long, long time. I prayed for him to come around and to see things as they really were and still are.

In 2009 my brother contacted our father and began to pursue a relationship with him.

In 2010, my brother also had his adoption rescinded and put our biological father back on his birth certificate. My brother even changed his last name back to our dad's name. He too was going to finally have his chance to be who he was meant to be all along.

What happened to our mother?

Oh, she's still a drunk and a drug user. Personally, I haven't spoken to her in 8 years. I got so fed up with her mind-fuck games and bullshit, that I just cut her out altogether. If I (or she) dies never having seen or talked to one another again, I honestly don't feel as though I will have any regrets. You see, she still doesn't get it. She STILL refuses to accept ANY responsibility for ANY of the mistakes and/or choices she made as a mother. NOTHING. I get NOTHING of an apology from her. I mean, not only does she refuse to accept responsibility or apologize, but she CONTINUES to make the same choices.

My favorite terms to describe her are: "Shit Storm" and "Drive by Shitter."

She really is very, very ill. I can see how ill she is and I am sorry for it. But she is such a dangerous person that I can't have her in my life. She can't be trusted even for a moment.

Well, I suppose that's what I've got to say for now. It's time for me to get ready for my son's 16th birthday party. My dad and step-mom are coming over. It's going to be an awesome FAMILY-FILLED day.

P.S. Incidentally and ironically, my step-mom, the one whom I had no use for, for years and years - is now the woman that I WISH was my real mom.

I remarried last summer and it was MY DAD and she that gave me away. I introduce her as my mom. I tell everyone she is my mom.

For those who eventually find out she's "just" my step-mom, and if they ask me about my biological mom, I simply tell everyone that she's dead. It's easier that way than it is to try to explain the monster she really is.

TTYL.