I don't necessarily expect anybody to have answers, and I expect this may well be a long post so grab a cup of tea!
There are eighteen months between my brother and I. He is 34, and I am 32. I now don't quite know where to start! We were very much-wanted, very planned children and it took nine years to get us, meaning that our parents were mid-thirties when we were born: normal now but at the time meant they were "older" parents.
I think it's fair to say that our parents didn't enjoy being parents - my mum in particular. It's so hard knowing what it was - sometimes I think my mum must have had PND, other times I think she had some form of mental illness that was never diagnosed. She certainly was very erratic and had a real temper on her.
I think there are two main things that came out of our childhood, the main one was that both my brother and I were, as far as our parents were concerned, inadequate. My mum was the main culprit for this - she would rant on (and I do mean on) about other people's children, how clever they were, how pretty, and how ashamed she was of us as a result. With my brother it was mainly academic progress and he tried to kill himself in his first year of secondary school aged 12 because he hadn't been put in the top sets. I got some of the academic nagging as well but it was mainly appearance related for me - both my parents were obsessed with me getting fat and they restricted my food intake so I was hungry, then I would binge eat whenever I got the opportunity. At school when I was about 11 I had my picture taken for the local paper with some other girls as we were in a little choir, and my dad slammed it in front of me and yelled right in my face, "TELL ME THEIR NAMES." He then chanted their names back at me with "thin" next to it, so it was like "CARLY SMITH - THIN, AMY JONES - THIN," until he got to my name and yelled "FAT!" after it. My mum used to tell me that her friends said I looked fat. I was a bit pudgy at about 10/11 but not fat at all really and I did grow out of it after my periods started, but obviously with that all going on I thought I was massive. I had no confidence and I was bullied at school as well, by boys. I always had girl friends but if there was ever a little spat or quarrel my mum would blame me.
It was really horrible, I am shaking a bit just listing these but some of the stuff I remember is my mum grabbing me by the hair and dragging me through a gym changing room to make me exercise, my dad punching/poking me in the stomach (it felt like a punch but was probably 'just' a hard poke) and telling me to get out and exercise, and when Harry Enfield was on the TV at the time my mum nicknamed me Waynetta Slob.
The other thing is that our parents but again especially our mum just didn't like being parents. The extent to which has only really dawned on me since reading mumsnet but some of the 'aibu' posts in particular really make me think of my mum. We'd get just dumped onto any friend or contemporary going really ... understandably that must have pissed them off and so I remember my parents having very few friends and sometimes (not very often to be fair but still it did happen) she would blame us for this, being such awful children she didn't dare take us anywhere. This made our isolation quite complete in a way. I try not to judge too harshly as it was the 1980s and I know approaches to childcare have changed a lot since but for instance we'd go abroad and my mum and dad would just bask on the beach all day and we'd be free to run in and out of the sea when we were hardly more than toddlers and I would always get lost on the beach at 5/6 years old. I was also taking myself to and from school from being about 7 and coming home to an empty house. Again, I just don't know how 'normal' this is, as it was the 80s not today but still.
My brother and I had a weird relationship growing up, we were either very close because of protecting ourselves from mum & dad or we'd sort of gang up against the other as it was quite unusual for both of us to fall out of favour, so we'd enjoy the other one being the 'bad' one while the other got to be the cossetted one. There was a definite gender divide as well, as I seemed to get on more easily with my dad and my brother with my mum. As teenagers though we did rebel a bit in different ways. My brother went completely off the rails and turned to drugs. I on the other hand (didn't consciously realise it) just became the daughter I knew my mother didn't want which to be fair wasn't hard, but they both still had us very cowed and subdued. My mum chose my A levels for me even though I said I didn't want to do those subjects and I know it might be difficult for some people to understand why a sixteen year old couldn't just say "shut up Mum, I'm doing this," but it was just so knocked into me to obey her every word. My 'rebellion' never went further than getting my hair cut (I was sixteen at the time and until that point my mum used to put hair rollers in my hair every night
and I wasn't allowed a different style, I used to get CRUCIFIED for that at school) and she used to buy my clothes for me too, I hated them but I had no other choice and I had to wear them or go naked!
I suppose the problem was socially and in various other ways I was totally inadequate, I looked stupid and had been isolated from my peers and had been bullied. Then when I was 17 and my brother 19 our mum was very suddenly diagnosed with terminal cancer, she had been drinking very heavily for a while then and I think this must have had something to do with it, and she died. My dad, and I was always closer to him even though he is a dick sometimes, fell apart and a very manipulative controlling woman took up with him. He married her and moved to live with her in the Scottish Borders (we live in the midlands) and she made it a 'rule' that my brother and I couldn't visit, to be fair my brother was heavily involved in drugs at this point. They were awful years, we were both at university but with no stability or adult to help or guide us. After graduating I trained as a teacher and I spent a period homeless as I was eligible for no help due to being a student but had no income for the same reason! Very difficult!
Slowly, gradually, my life and to a lesser extent my brother's life has fallen into some kind of order. Socially I learned 'on the job' as it were and I do now have many friends, most of whom know little of my life before I was 18. I own a 3 bedroomed terrace house, so hardly a mansion but it's warm and comfortable. I have a really good job - I am now a head of department at school and am going to shortly be an assistant headteacher. Things have been harder for my brother as his drug abuse gave him a myriad of health problems including epilepsy and Crohn's disease but he has his own place and works for an agency. My dad divorced wife 2, lived with another woman and then married a third time and seems to live wife 3 very much. We're still in touch with him but they have a caravan so don't see loads of him.
I've never been in a relationship - ever. I posted about this the other day but have name changed due to more personal stuff in this post. Neither has my brother. It's not through lack of trying on my part. Obviously, having a boyfriend was out of the question at school/college. At university I gained quite a bit of weight and also had what I now recognise as severe anxiety/depression from my mother dying, from my earlier years and also I was sexually assaulted in the summer between year 13 and university.
I know it sounds really bleak but obviously I've only posted about the shitty stuff, there have been lots of good times as well, mostly after I turned about 27/28 as I came into my own at that age i think. I'm now finally able to genuinely like and value myself but obviously, those early years have left their mark. Plus I am nearly 33.
I realised a good two years ago that meeting a partner would not be easy. I don't have age on my side, my friends are all coupled-up, I am in a female dominated job and when I DO meet a nice bloke - he's married
I'm concluded meeting someone isn't going to happen/is unlikely to happen for me and I was fine with that and started to make plans to have a child as a single mother, using donated sperm and I should still be doing this later this year if all goes to plan.
I have to explain that our dad thinks that our childhood was amazing, and it's true we went on loads of days out and holidays and had a big gorgeous farmhouse which did look like something from a fairy-tale. For a long time I thought that I was just remembering the bad stuff and that maybe we were normal but talking to my brother this weekend has made me realise we weren't.
The thing is, I have tried counselling before and lovely as the counsellor was, I got nothing from it, it just felt like raking over old miserable stuff that I've moved on from. I don't know what to do or where to go from here. My brother wants to try therapy and I don't know if I should go with him or if I should just accept things are as they are, and I am happy with my lot and looking forward to the future - surely that's enough? 
Sorry for mini-novel :laugh:
xx