* you were there in my mind’s eye, Tee, as I was typing the above, made possible by you, Tee, by your input, by your support 🙏🙏🙏🤍🤍🤍👧

Dear Alessa:

Thank 😊 you for both messages today, here in my thread (and elsewhere).

I think that I am over both the cold 🥶 and bladder infection 🙏.

How kind of you, Alessa, to help your neighbor!

I wonder 🤔 if a noise machine that provided a constant static noise can help your son’s sensitivity to sounds during the night 🌙

Thank you for your support, Alessa. I am fortunate to have it 🙏🙏🙏

🤍 Anita

What a lovely message, Tee, so glad to receive it 🙏🙏🙏. I will respond further later.

🤍 🫶 🙏 🫶 🤍 Anita

Still no computer usr, using my phone:

My goal is to ease my general, daily diluted anxiety by expressing core, earlier life 😨 fears:

* And if you are reading this and it might be a trigger for you, please 🙏 don’t continue to read. Trigger Warning ⚠️

My early life fears:

1) that my mother will kill herself because she said she will, which constitutes my first life memory, that of her threatening suicide, running to the street at night, me crying loudly, father beating me with a belt so to silence 🔕 me, and me later, going to the street in the dark looking for her dead body.

2) Finding her alive on the street (there were people there, gathered by the commotion), I ran 🏃‍♂️ to her with little arms outstretched. Her reaction: anger at me because as l ran I yelled with great joy: “Mother, mother, you are ALIVE!”

I remember that devastation on little girl 👧 me part, to not be held and comforted at that moment, in that night, but instead to be accused for thinking she’d kill herself (even though she SAID LOUDLY that she will).

This is my first memory. Soon after, at the age of 5+, tics started intensely and still ongoing, every hour, every single day in my life, tics that go together with somatic tension and holding my breath.

2) Following that first night I remember, she continued to threaten suicide for 30 years until the moment my younger sister challenged her: “why don’t you stop talking about it, and just do it?”

No mention of suicide after that short challenge.

3) And then there were her threats to kill me, or using her word, “murder” me. I think that this one scared me less than her first threat, maybe because I was older when she threatened to murder me.

4) And then there were the elaborate shaming and guilt tripping episodes, many of them, where she went out of her way, in manufactured great detail to accuse me not of making mistakes but of intentionally trying to hurt her feelings, for planning weeks and months in advance to hurt her and then methodically and heartlessly going about my plans.

None of that was true, all of it was manufactured by her (paranoid personality disorder, I figure).

She went out of her way to shame me, humiliate me in sessions that felt forever. She wouldn’t stop until she was physically exhausted.

And when she was physically exhausted, she’d blame me: “Look what YOU did to ME”.

And exhausted, she’d be quiet 🤫 until the next time. Never an apology.

So, I was always the BAD one, always afraid of saying the wrong thing, or even thinking the wrong thing (something she’ll detect by a mere expression on my face, leading to the next torture session).

I was afraid of BEING, so I disappeared into non-being aka dissociating.

I think this is an adequate summary of my core fears.

I want to develop this later with the goal in mind of easing my hourly, daily anxiety and somatic tension/ tics.

😨😟😞👧👂💪 Anita