Dear Ates:

So, your mother has been consistently cruel, switching from one type of cruel to another, different intensities of cruel over time.

She told you: “you are a bad child, I have a heart of a mother so I forgive you”– my mother told me the same thing, it’s like they went to the same school on how to (not) be mothers. I am now correcting the italicized sentence so to make it true:

You are a good child. I have a cruel heart of a mother, so I am doing what I can today to hurt you!

Since I am into correcting sentences from false to true, here is another which she wrote on a poster and taped in your room: “I am the worst daughter ever, I am selfish, my mum is an angel but I love making mum sad”.

Corrected, imagining you taping  such poster in her room: I am the worst mother ever. I am selfish. My daughter is an angel but I love hurting her!

In regard to my imagination: there were so many stories I made up every morning and then lived the rest of the day developing the stories, seeing them as if on a big movie screen- that I don’t remember much. They were centered around 2 themes: (1) I was a famous dancer, or actress, or a famous scientist… or a world leader,  worshipped by millions, (2) Romantic love stories (they often ended badly though, maybe because I was running out of time and had to sleep).

There was a boy in high school, I had a crush on him and daydreamed about him a lot. One time it happened, at the end of high school: he asked me out to the movies. I was so anxious through the whole evening that I was conscious of every breath I took, afraid that he will hear air coming out of my nose (something I perceived to be unattractive). Sounds crazy? Well, it was, I guess. There was no romance in that one evening/ only date.. I was just too uncomfortable!

anita