I'm moving out over winter break at the end of my college semester and going to florida in January with my friend. My parents are the cheapest, craziest, religious, psychotic parents I've ever met in my life. They put a tracker on my car, they cancel my phone because they can't "see my grades online" even though I bring my tests home and show them on paper, they call the police on me and told them that I hit them and my mom actually bit herself and told the police officer that I did it, which caused me to go get arrested and sent to juvenile detention twice during highschool (once senior year and once junior year). They stalk me on all social media, they call my friends and threaten to call the police on them if they don't tell them if I do something bad, they threaten to kick me out every single day, my mom was making me pay her 50 dollars a week for just living at home and a whole bunch of other shit. So my question is, how in the fuck do I deal with them until January when hopefully I can get the fuck out of this shit hole and never have to see or talk to them again? I'm currently a full time student and just recently quit my job but am getting hired within the next week by another place.
When I was still in high school, I came to the conclusion that my parents, mainly my mom, were just too hard to live with. Not as "bat shit crazy" as your parents are, but still pretty dysfunctional. My stepdad was afraid of my mom, so he'd side with her even when she was acting completely nuts. It was me against them. I moved out.
The first time I left, I was sixteen. I had a job and an apartment and that's about it. Finding time to keep up with my studies was challenging, but I felt so much more relaxed and at peace in my own place. Unfortunately, folks under the age of 18 were considered minors and there was no such thing as emancipation laws back then. I was stopped one evening by the cops for being out after curfew, which in those days was 10:00 p.m. I had to either move home or live with someone over 21 years old. I moved home for 6 months.
On my 18th birthday, I gave myself a birthday present....freedom! I rented an apartment in Santa Monica, CA and moved in on my birthday. I never lived with my parents again. We got along great after I moved out.
When I was 38 years old, my stepdad died. On his deathbed, he asked me to take care of my mom. She moved to Oregon, living the last three years of her life with my wife, family and me. All those years later, she was still a neurotic character and an occasional pain in the ass. Her living with us was no picnic. I loved my mom. I still miss her after all this time. I am glad that she isn't living with us any longer.
