Thankfully, with my parents it wasn’t drugs. They were simply the most selfish, neglectful people who shouldn’t have had kids. Had there been drugs, I’m sure either of them would have jumped at the opportunity to pimp off my siblings and I to fund their own needs. As it was we never got to keep our holiday and birthday $ from relatives and when my parents did divorce my father decided his new kids (those of his side action) were more important than his own. He didn’t pay child support. While my mother stuck it out, she ruled our household with an evil socialist mindset that whatever we earned was hers. She played this out into our respective adulthoods, leaning on each of us in her own special way because she used our handicapped brother as leverage. He loved her. As such if we wanted to insure he was ok, fed, healthy, and taken care of she had to piggy back along. What blew me away was we really should have been on welfare — you know the people who honestly needed it to survive — but my mother was too proud. So we suffered.
I resented all of the brats I went to school with who taunted me for wearing hand-me-downs or the same thing for several days straight, for not knowing where my next meal would come from or if the power would be on.
And I will say — that ungrateful spoiled person I call my mother lives better than I did throughout my entire childhood. She’s healthy, safe, well-fed, and rarely worries for anything.
I can understand how you felt about money resonating and evoking hunger and shame. Many of my adult decisions regarding $ and bills are polar from hers.