Strange how a person can be so alone, and yet never alone, or hardly ever alone.

I am talking about my personal experience growing up (or as I rather say, growing in).

My personal story is that of having been taken over, dominated, overtaken, consumed, devoured, emotionally- by my mother.

So much so, that there was hardly anything left of me.

I remember watching the movie “Psycho”, the original, where the son became his mother, speaking in her voice.

I remember later on a book titled “Stolen Lives”. It resonated.

My story is about being Taken Over so much so that there was little left of me. Almost none.

She- my mother- became EVERYTHING, and I- NOTHING.

It happened as she, my mother, invaded me so thoroughly that..

She made EVERYTHING about her and NOTHING about me.

When I say all of MY empathy was for her, I am inaccurate. There was no “my”.

Histrionically, she went on endless “poor me” tirades that left no space for any other person.

There was no Anita.

My whole mind and heart (and again, I say “My” when, where there none) was about her: Oh, my poor, suffering mother- no one else matters.

The “I” was distant. Mother was ALL that mattered.

I was hardly ever physically alone unless she was physically paway. When she was physically there, she took ALL the space. She was LOUD and she was ALL about herself and NOTHING about me.

My empathy was 💯 with her and none with me because, in her presentation, there was no me. So, in my mind, there was no me.

I remember as a child wishing I was left alone by my mother, abandoned for real. Maybe then there’d be SPACE for me to be.

Fast forward to now, here I am. Breathing the air of.. what’re the words, breathing the air of space, place that allows me to be me.

To no longer submit to anyone who has the propensity to take over/ dominate/ subdue me.

NEVER AGAIN.

🤍 😔 🙂 💡 Anita