Dear Anita,

I always have called my mother an emotional vampire, perhaps I never wrote it here.  A vampire that sucks all your blood and energy, but never satiated.  Always seeking more.  A bottomless pit of thirst.

I now no longer think of her as this, or much of anything, just a defective flawed human that has no business being a mother.

Now,

I find myself thinking more about myself these days.  What am I? Who am I? What is my baseline? Is it my “baseline” or am i being provoked by something behind the scenes.  What is behind the scenes anyway…?