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They were a strange contradiction. Serious outer fringe hippies that did more crazy stuff than I ever dreamed of, but my step dad was a militant disciplinarian. He believed in old fashion beatings, and there were times when I was beaten black and blue from the small of my back to the backs of my calves. At the same time I was allowed to do things that would have scared normal parents to death, and I joined them on all their psychedelic journeys. They believed the hallucinogenics would "open my third eye". I ran away at 14 and got sanctuary with my grandparents.
@SW-User Yeah, but somehow I feel like it was the upbringing I needed. Boot Camp was a breeze for me, and the wreckage that my faulty circuitry has caused, has been easier to survive as the years have passed.
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