Dear Jana 🌸

I deeply admire your independence and the way you have embraced your inner world and nature as your anchor—it’s truly inspiring. Before I dive into my response, I want to explain why I’ll be quoting parts of your post and reflecting on them in relation to my own experiences. Private journaling doesn’t motivate me, but responding to thoughtful posts like yours sparks meaningful reflections about my story. What you have shared serves as a powerful catalyst for deeper introspection and helps me process my thoughts in a way that feels authentic and connected.

You wrote: “When you are released into the world as a child, like an animal into the wild (😄), there is nothing left to do but rely on yourself.”- That is so beautifully said. For me, it felt as though I was released into the world with a tight leash around my neck, held firmly by my mother, preventing me from exploring freely or embracing the wildness of being myself. Reading your words, it feels like you didn’t experience that restraint and were able to embrace true freedom when in nature. I’m happy for you.

“I was happy to be free.”- I always dreamed of being free, but that freedom only existed in my daydreams. Mentally, I was confined within a prison, unable to experience the freedom I so deeply longed for.

“And I had a lot of space to become myself. 🐛 -> 🦋”- Jana the butterfly 😊! Interestingly, I was reflecting on this metaphor just yesterday. I thought about how I had been stuck in a cocoon for over half a century, and how, only recently, I began the transformation into a butterfly. The joy and freedom captured in my photo reflect this transformative process.

“I didn’t see my mom as my ‘center’. My center was the world outside in nature and my inner world. And it still is.”- Unfortunately for me, my mother—through her combination of personality disorders—crushed my center, leaving me to rebuild it piece by piece now.

“She is a completely different person with a different mindset. I respect it but I don’t allow it to define me.”- There has to be an “I” to define or not define oneself, and that “I” was taken away from me for a long time.

“I mean her criticism, for example, doesn’t affect me at all. It is only her opinion, nothing else. I don’t need her approval… I can only help her a little, with compassion and nice words, but it is all up to her in the end.”- You have achieved such a healthy balance between maintaining your boundaries and expressing compassion for your mother—it’s truly admirable. In my case, my compassion for my mother was often misused. She used it to hurt my feelings, shame me, and guilt-trip me at great lengths.

“It’s great to read that you are happy and ready to become more open to others. ☀️ ❤️”- Thank you, Jana. When I wrote my post to you yesterday, I made sure to focus on connection rather than theory or intellectualizing. Despite that, I was afraid you might be upset with it, find fault, or even attack me in your response. I had to remind myself that this isn’t who you are. I kept reassuring myself, “It’s not likely,” but doubt lingered.

This fear reflects how much—and how often—my mother attacked me. If I didn’t say things exactly as she thought I should, if my wording didn’t suit her, if I failed to say something she expected, or even if my facial expression displeased her, she would lash out. There was no way for me to predict her reactions or figure out what to say to avoid them. This left me doubting myself constantly, second-guessing and revising my thoughts—rephrasing, rearranging, trying to get it “right.”

Being criticized for non-offenses, like unintended expressions or word choices, deeply affected me. It undermined my self-confidence and created persistent self-doubt. I became hyper-vigilant and anxious, monitoring my words, facial expressions, and behaviors to avoid disapproval. It made it difficult to trust my own instincts and emotions. Over time, this led to people-pleasing tendencies and the suppression of my personal needs, to the point where I couldn’t identify them anymore. It fostered a fear of rejection and left me overanalyzing interactions.

I hope it’s okay with you that I quoted parts of your post and shared my story in relation to what you’ve written. Please let me know if this way of interacting feels right to you—I deeply value our dialogue and your insight.

Thank you so much for sharing so openly, Jana. I’m grateful for the meaningful exchange we have, and for the positive impact your words continue to have on my reflections. ❤️

anita

Aw, thank you, Zenith! Your excitement makes me even more excited to share it! 😊 You’re the best! I am getting help with uploading the photo at the moment.

anita

Dear Alessa:

Thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful words—they really mean a lot to me. ❤️ Your support and encouragement lifts me up.

I’m feeling reflective today, and still raw. It’s definitely not an easy journey, but reading your words reminds me that I don’t have to do it all alone. I’m so grateful to have someone like you who sees and acknowledges the effort it takes.

How are you feeling? I hope you’re taking care of yourself, too—you have such a kind and caring heart, and it deserves just as much love and support.

anita

Growing up with my mother, who was effectively a single parent, was deeply isolating and emotionally overwhelming. Her borderline personality made the environment unpredictable, with frequent emotional storms that kept me in a constant state of fight-or-flight. I felt trapped, unable to escape the tension and chaos that surrounded me. Over time, the unrelenting stress became embedded in my body, manifesting as anxiety, somatic tension, and tics. It felt as though my muscles, desperate to flee from her or, at times, to fight back—neither option being possible—were “running” within me as tics, with nowhere to go. It was as if I carried her volatility inside me. Even after all these years, I still do.

Her paranoia shaped the way I saw the world. She mistrusted everyone and actively discouraged me from confiding in others—whether peers or adults. Gradually, I internalized her distrust, coming to see people as inherently dangerous or insincere. This left me profoundly socially isolated, unable to form meaningful relationships or feel safe around others. With no alternative perspectives or sources of balance, her paranoid lens became my own, leaving me deeply lonely and disconnected.

Her histrionic tendencies, however, were the most emotionally draining. She would endlessly recount her pain in dramatic and overwhelming ways, leaving me emotionally exhausted and unable to process my own feelings. Her suffering consumed all the emotional space, forcing me to absorb it while neglecting my own needs. Over time, empathy became excruciatingly painful for me—an unrelenting burden I could not escape. This experience profoundly shaped the way I relate to others. As an adult, I found myself avoiding relationships and intimacy altogether, terrified of being consumed by someone else’s emotional needs, just as I had been consumed by hers.

Only recently have I begun to connect with others on an emotional level, and even now, it still feels unfamiliar to me. I often feel like a child, just beginning to learn how to build connections—figuring out the dos and don’ts of positive interactions and becoming more aware of how I come across. I lack experience in this area and am essentially starting from scratch, though part of the process involves unlearning deeply ingrained patterns of distorted thinking.

I am working to move past all-or-nothing and black-and-white thinking, learning to see the shades of color and nuance in situations. I’m practicing the rule of charity (Peter!)—choosing to interpret others’ motivations as neutral or positive—and challenging myself to view situations from multiple angles, rather than defaulting to the single, familiar entry point of suspicion and distrust.

As for the recent pain I’m feeling—the overwhelming empathy for her—I realize I need to make space for myself in this emotional dynamic. The sense of overwhelm stems from her emotions taking over completely. I need to see myself in the picture and extend empathy toward me as well. Perhaps doing so will ease the intensity of the overwhelm.

anita

* Thank you Alessa, Peter and Jana for being here with me today. Connecting really helps lighten the weight of painful emotions 🫶

anita

I am getting all this positive attention on this difficult day, thank you, Jana!

I appreciate your openness in expressing your perspective and the way you reflected on your relationship with your mother. Your words about anger stemming from care really resonate with me; it’s such a powerful realization that anger can be tied to love and a deep sense of wanting to help.

I also value your encouragement to let others go through their journeys and experiences, good and bad, so they can grow and learn. Thank you Jana, I deeply appreciate you choosing to post on my thread 🌸

anita