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  • #411476
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    I saw bears quite a few times, one right outside the glass door, another on the driveway on the other side of the house, and a few bears crossing the paths on my 3.5 mile walk. I saw coyotes too, one confronted me twice while I was on my walk (that’s when I started carrying bear spray). I saw a mountain lion right by the house… on camera and other people warned me about mountain lions in the area, showing me photos they took.  If I saw a mountain lion in-person, I don’t think I will ever be able to do my walks.. they are too big and scary looking.

    Because of what happened to me, my biggest goal has always been ‘to not be like my mother’“- mine too!

    With time it is changing to: I want to be a kind, good person, respectful, having my boundaries. I see it more and more clearly and I am happy I can see it“- same is true for me!

    (It’s almost like we are… the same person, lol).

    Our conversations inspire me to be better person..“- you made my day!

    Thank you for your kind words and for wishing me a good day, that is, a day with my usual routine! Have a good night and talk to you tomorrow!

    anita

    #411500
    Joanna
    Participant

    Anita,

    then I will continue to share these everyday details with you!

    lovely!

     shaming and humiliating me … carefully picking the words that will shame me the most.

    I was always amazed: where did she got this ability, perfect ability to take every situation, every conversation and offend me in the most elaborate way, and no hesitation. There is no one more perfect than her, in the art of insulting.  I could say: the hairdresser pulled my hair too much, and she would say “maybe he is not used to people with such thin hair”. And this is one of the nicest things she said to me, it was actually said during  a “nice” conversation.

    – I can’t believe that I am reading these words. It is as if I wrote them.. this is almost unbelievable!  I used to have this recurring dream in which my mother was looking at me with pure contempt, disapproval, rejection and repulsion.

    There was no action, no words and no sound in the dreams, only her silent venomous, hateful look.

    It is as if we had the same mother. (I think you mentioned this one time)

    The similarities are almost unbelievable, incredible…

    I wonder if there any still any we do not realize.

    I took Clonazepam (a benzodiazepine, like Xanax) 1995, or 1996 – 2013.

    I started taking Xanax in 2010/11, continued in 2012 (with small breaks), through 2014/15, to 2018. I realized I had a problem around 2012 but continued.

    I intended to recall here what was my life exactly in 1995 (when you started taking it) but.. I do not remember. Except for the traumatic events I have very small amount of memories from my childhood. I could write them all in one a4 page, I think. (on the other hand, the story of my mother – on that I could write a whole book!)

     my earliest memory of dissociation is from the time I was six or so. I was alone in the apartment at night because my mother, while fighting loudly with my father (right before their divorce)  screamed that she was going to kill herself and left the apartment. He left too. So, I walked down the stairs in the dark scared, intending to look for her.. and then, I imagined that I was a movie star playing in a scary movie and I felt positively excited in the midst of horror.

    How well I know this. Fantasies accompanied me through my whole childhood and teenage years. I must admit I do not entirely understand the term dissociation, so I will just say they were fantasies. In my fantasies: I had a husband, and even a second guy fighting for my love. My husband was leaving and begged me to wait for him! He was american. I did not know the language very well so it was difficult for us.

    Oh, how good it felt. I lived a whole different life in my mind.

    My mother never threatened with suicide, but threatened with leaving. I cannot imagine saying threats of killing oneself to a child.

    it is my turn to tell you: how simple and perfectly said!

    my comment would be this: 🙂

    I saw bears quite a few times, one right outside the glass door, another on the driveway on the other side of the house, and a few bears crossing the paths on my 3.5 mile walk. I saw coyotes too, one confronted me twice while I was on my walk (that’s when I started carrying bear spray). I saw a mountain lion right by the house… on camera and other people warned me about mountain lions in the area, showing me photos they took.  If I saw a mountain lion in-person, I don’t think I will ever be able to do my walks.. they are too big and scary looking.

    That’s scary. Carrying bear spray is a good choice, then. I cannot imagine being this close and being forced to use it.

    (It’s almost like we are… the same person, lol).

    Still not sure if it’s Ok for me to be excited about this!

    you made my day!

    Very nice to read this, Anita. I am sending best wishes!

     

    #411510
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    I was always amazed: where did she got this ability, perfect ability to take every situation, every conversation and offend me in the most elaborate way, and no hesitation. There is no one more perfect than her, in the art of insulting“- as I read this, once again, I thought I was reading my own words and checked to see if this is a quote of my words…

    “I could say: the hairdresser pulled my hair too much, and she would say ‘maybe he is not used to people with such thin hair’. And this is one of the nicest things she said to me, it was actually said during  a ‘nice’ conversation“- my mother was also obsessed with thin hair, but not my thin hair but her own (very, very thin hair)… As far as my hair, I remember her insisting that she had to wash my hair into my teenage years, to my horror (I was very ashamed of her seeing me naked, but she insisted that I was not able to wash my own hair well, and that she had to do it). I remember when she scrubbed my head, it hurt a lot, her hands dug into my head so roughly that it hurt. And it felt strange at the time, as I was wondering: why is she scrubbing my head so hard…

    It is as if we had the same mother. (I think you mentioned this one time)“- and I’ll mention it again. It’s surreal.

    I intended to recall here what was my life exactly in 1995 (when you started taking it) but.. I do not remember. Except for the traumatic events I have very small amount of memories from my childhood. I could write them all in one – 4 page, I think. (on the other hand, the story of my mother – on that I could write a whole book!)“- It will take no more than a page to fill in with my memories of my childhood. Like you, in my mind, I hardly existed; in my mind, she loomed big and I was nowhere to be found. It was like she was Everything and Everywhere,  I was Nothing and Nowhere.

    How well I know this. Fantasies accompanied me through my whole childhood and teenage years…. In my fantasies: I had a husband, and even a second guy fighting for my love. My husband was leaving and begged me to wait for him! He was American“- I lived in such fantasies, it was my life most of the time (when she was not talking to me, etc.). It looks like we had .. the same kinds of fantasies. I too had American men fighting for me. (How more alike can we be?…)

    Oh, how good it felt. I lived a whole different life in my mind“- I don’t know if these are your words of mine… I think that these are your words, right?

    My mother never threatened with suicide, but threatened with leaving. I cannot imagine saying threats of killing oneself to a child“- she threatened suicide quite often. At one point I hoped that she would do it already, but she didn’t.. she just kept threatening that she will.

    I am sending best wishes!“- thank you, and my best wishes to you!

    anita

    #411524
    Joanna
    Participant

    Anita,

    I remember her insisting that she had to wash my hair into my teenage years, to my horror (I was very ashamed of her seeing me naked, but she insisted that I was not able to wash my own hair well, and that she had to do it). I remember when she scrubbed my head, it hurt a lot, her hands dug into my head so roughly that it hurt. And it felt strange at the time, as I was wondering: why is she scrubbing my head so hard…

    I wonder why is that.. she was doing something for you, to help I assume, but hated the fact that she had to do it… because you were incapable, in her mind of doing it yourself, as I see it from my experience.

    I know it well – my mother being physically rough, having no boundaries. One time I had stomachache and she was so insensitive, rough, it was hell. I remember lying in bed praying for it to be gone, not because I felt sick but because I did not want to deal with her “treating me” anymore. I fell asleep praying many times in my childhood, until I stopped completely.

    When I first got my period I was so ashamed, I could not tell her. I remember sitting an hour or so in front of her and trying to tell her what happened, and I couldn’t, words could not come from my mouth. She was asking me: “did you steal something? Did you hit someone? What did you do?” And I couldn’t say it. Might be the reason I struggled with identity, was never comfortable being “girly”. However, I do not hate women as she does. I mostly felt sorry for all the women-victims of her.

    She always used to come into bathroom when I was taking bath, or using the toilet. When she was using the toilet, she left the door open. No boundaries, no privacy. She once found pregnancy test in the bin and told me:  “oh..  really nice…well, I will get through this somehow. I raised one child, I will raise another..” I was not a separate person, I was her, she was me. We were one person.

    in my mind, I hardly existed; in my mind, she loomed big and I was nowhere to be found. It was like she was Everything and Everywhere,  I was Nothing and Nowhere.

    Same here.

    I must admit I really enjoy being my own person right now. I was always defined by her, felt her emotions, felt her opinions about me, about other people. Now it’s fading. When I go shopping by bike and suddenly there’s wind, rain and I take too much things so that they do not fit in my basket – I no longer feel contempt at myself. I think: “Wow, that was unexpected!” Feels good, thinking my own thoughts. I think they were there all this time.

     I lived in such fantasies, it was my life most of the time (when she was not talking to me, etc.).

    Amazing how we invented a second life for ourselves, amazing how brain works. When I look for memories I see trauma events and fantasy life.. and a little bit of reality, every day life – very little.

    It looks like we had .. the same kinds of fantasies. I too had American men fighting for me. (How more alike can we be?…)

    Made me smile. I am not even surprised anymore! (Did he have a car? Mine did.)

    she threatened suicide quite often. At one point I hoped that she would do it already, but she didn’t.. she just kept threatening that she will.

    It is still shocking to me, and I understand why you hoped that.

    as I read this, once again, I thought I was reading my own words and checked to see if this is a quote of my words…

    I want to say this: I wish it did not happen to you, Anita.

    and I’ll mention it again. It’s surreal.

    Just wanted to acknowledge this, nothing more to add. Surreal.

    Takes me long time to write (I always change, delete some, write again) so have a good day, Anita and a good night.

     

    #411525
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    Yes the fantasy American men had cars… We have so much in common, including “never comfortable being ‘girly'”- amazing, incredible!!!!!… I will reply further Fri morning (It is Thurs 1:22 pm here). Have a good night, Joanna!

    anita

    #411531
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    I returned from my walk a little while ago- no animal sightings, snow and ice is almost all melted- and I was thinking during the walk about your comment regarding my mother often threatening to commit suicide, you wrote: “It is still shocking to me“. When I first read it, I automatically thought to myself something like: it can’t be shocking, it was not that a big of a deal. I think that this is what dissociation is about, on my part.. anyway, before replying to you further in the morning, I was wondering if you can elaborate about the comment: what is shocking about it?

    anita

    #411541
    Joanna
    Participant

    Anita, Thank you for this short post, I wondered if you posted, good that I checked.

    When I first read it, I automatically thought to myself something like: it can’t be shocking, it was not that a big of a deal.

    I was wondering if you can elaborate about the comment: what is shocking about it?

    I think being a child, or a teenager (you mentioned your parents’ divorce around you being six and your mother’s threats before that divorce so I assume you were very little) we do not have much comprehension of death or parents leaving us. I think it would be scary, even without fully understanding of this term. Along with seeing a parent distressed, that’s how children learn, for example hearing the term “happy” and seeing the parent’s emotions.  That’s why children are protected at very your age, from death, sex. But It’s just my understanding, that this may be why I thought it was shocking.

    I remember one time when my mother crashed her car, came back home around 8 am, she was supposed to be at work. I saw her upset, distressed. She might have said something about barely being alive. Along with seeing her panicked – it scared me a lot. I did not fully understand concept of being alive/dead then but I did understand a lot during that day. Now I think, in a way, she choose to not protect me from this incident. She could calm me down, say: everything is fine, mommy just had an accident, but it’s okay.

    I cannot imagine, on top of all the narcissistic abuse, additionally having to deal with fear of parent’s death or leaving me, (prospect of not having anyone to feed me etc) even if this parent abuses me. When my mother used to say “I will leave one day, pack my things and YOU WILL SEE” that’s what I imagined. But I don’t think it can be even compared to threats of killing herself, after some time I knew she was just saying this, not planning to leave.

    #411564
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    she was doing something for you, to help I assume, but hated the fact that she had to do it because you were incapable, in her mind of doing it yourself“- yes, you see it so clearly, true. She felt that it was her job to make sure that I was clean, and she hated this.. cleaning job, so she got it over as quickly as she could by digging her fingers into my scalp and rubbing it like it was some object to be cleaned.

    I know it well – my mother being physically rough, having no boundaries. One time I had stomachache and she was so insensitive, rough, it was hell. I remember lying in bed praying for it to be gone, not because I felt sick but because I did not want to deal with her ‘treating me’ anymore’“- they were rough with what they perceived to be objects or things, things that don’t feel emotion or pain.

    When I first got my period I was so ashamed, I could not tell her. I remember sitting an hour or so in front of her and trying to tell her what happened, and I couldn’t, words could not come from my mouth. She was asking me: ‘did you steal something?…’ And I couldn’t say it. Might be the reason I struggled with identity, was never comfortable being ‘girly’“-

    – Only a week ago, it happens that I told a young woman I know: “I was NEVER a girly girl“. From puberty  (which for me started a few years later than my peers) and for much of my life, I felt intense shame regarding secondary sex characteristics and great discomfort regarding the period thing. I never liked the idea- or experience- of being a woman. To this very day, I don’t dress like a woman: I wear jeans, no makeup, no going to the hairdresser, etc., and I keep myself as slender as I can be.. because it makes me look prepubescent.

    She always used to come into bathroom when I was taking bath“- reading this today, I again thought to myself: did I write this?

    I was not a separate person, I was her, she was me. We were one person“- in my perception growing up, I was Nothing, she was Everything. In her perception: she was nothing and I was everything. I will explain: she had an extreme case of what is called External Locus of Control, meaning, in her mental experience, whatever she felt and did was caused by someone else, in this case, by me. If she felt angry- I must have done something wrong to make her angry (or I must have thought or felt something wrong and she, having read my mind, got angry as a result). And whatever she said and did while angry, was my fault entirely.. because I made her angry.

    In her mind, she reacted to me and nothing more: I was the Actor, she was the Reactor. So, in her mind, she did not exist as an independent agency (one who acts, one who initiates, one who chooses): whatever she thought, felt and did… was an automatic reaction to me.

    If you look at the situation objectively, other people (including myself)- in her mental experience- did not have their own thoughts and feelings.. it was her thoughts and her feelings that she was inaccurately projecting into everyone. So, all that existed in her world was… her own thoughts and feelings. But subjectively, in her mind, other people loomed big, and it was their alleged (inaccurately projected) thoughts and feelings that dictated her thoughts, feelings and behaviors.

    I must admit I really enjoy being my own person right now. I was always defined by her, felt her emotions, felt her opinions about me, about other people. Now it’s fading… Feels good, thinking my own thoughts. I think they were there all this time“- it is a terrible existence to be trapped in another person’s sick brain, in the distorted upside-down reality that exists in their brain. It is refreshing to experience freedom from that trap!

    Amazing how we invented a second life for ourselves, amazing how brain works. When I look for memories I see trauma events and fantasy life.. and a little bit of reality“- fantasy was a refuge and a joy, imagining that there was love and positive excitement in my life.. but I knew it was fantasy. On the other hand, my mother’s fantasy (that I thought what she thought, that I felt what she felt), she didn’t know it was fantasy and there was no convincing her otherwise.

    I think being a child… we do not have much comprehension of death…  I remember one time when my mother crashed her car, came back home…  I saw her upset, distressed…  seeing her panicked – it scared me a lot….she chose to not protect me from this incident. She could calm me down, say: everything is fine, mommy just had an accident, but it’s okay“-this is helping me understand better what happened so many years ago: it was my mother’s PANIC that scared me the most. It was her uncontrolled and histrionically (exaggerated, showy) expressed upset, distress and panic that scared me so very much. It was the alarming tone and loudness of her voice, the extreme despair in her face, in her voice, in her words… she showed me the underside of her arms, showing me where she will cut her wrists and make herself bleed to death…  going on and on and on about how miserable her life was and how much better it would be for her if she didn’t live anymore. It was scary and heartbreaking.

    Takes me long time to write (I always change, delete some, write again)“- this is how I used to write (and talk and think). I kept going over what I said and correcting myself, or I’d say things in a very cautious way, so to avoid being misunderstood or misinterpreted, covering all possible misinterpretations and addressing them before being misunderstood.

    I kept feeling that I was making mistakes and that the consequences will be terrible. I felt that there was something very wrong with me, and therefore, whatever comes out of me spontaneously, will bring disaster. It wasn’t that long ago, that I said to myself: it is okay to just type away/ talk/ think because there is nothing wrong with me (not more than with any other person), so there is no danger of something terrible being revealed if I am spontaneous/ not careful.

    anita

     

    #411573
    Joanna
    Participant

    Anita,

    I’ll try to write spontaneously. Still I need a lot of thinking and therefore pauses.

    I returned from my walk a little while ago- no animal sightings, snow and ice is almost all melted

    I googled mountain lion – looks big and powerful, beautiful but scary. Good there is less ice, more safe to walk!

     She felt that it was her job to make sure that I was clean, and she hated this.. cleaning job

    Exactly this. I wonder why is that.. Is it not wanting to have family/children after all… It is still difficult to me to comprehend how this behavior may not have roots or reasons – it is a disorder, a personality, something they (our mothers) learned through their trauma but also developed in a way, from what I understand.

    All my life I saw it was my mother’s job, duty to take care of me and she hated it. (Later I found out she had the chance to move out to Canada with her high school boyfriend when I was 7, but could not as she was already married and had me.) When I heard it, I thought “now it makes sense why you hate me so much”… but I don’t think it was the reason. She just hated me. (Anita, if you tell me your mother too wanted to move to Canada… I will be speechless 🙂 )

    – Only a week ago, it happens that I told a young woman I know: “I was NEVER a girly girl“. From puberty  (which for me started a few years later than my peers) and for much of my life, I felt intense shame regarding secondary sex characteristics and great discomfort regarding the period thing. I never liked the idea- or experience- of being a woman. To this very day, I don’t dress like a woman: I wear jeans, no makeup, no going to the hairdresser, etc., and I keep myself as slender as I can be.. because it makes me look prepubescent.

    I relate to this so much. My clothes as mostly black, neutral.. hoodie is my every day look, martens style boots. No earrings, no heels, no dresses (Although I did wore them on some occasions). Prepubescent – a very accurate term.

    She always used to come into bathroom when I was taking bath“- reading this today, I again thought to myself: did I write this?

    How is this possible.. How does this happen. I still haven’t come to terms with how can someone fit so well into the description of narcissistic mother: she was not taught this, did not have a course on how to behave, what to say, yet she is a textbook, perfect example, and now…. we are seeing how our both mothers fit such similar description  (I am afraid of saying… “the same” – it’s terrifying, impossible.)

     in her mental experience, whatever she felt and did was caused by someone else, in this case, by me. If she felt angry- I must have done something wrong to make her angry (or I must have thought or felt something wrong and she, having read my mind, got angry as a result). And whatever she said and did while angry, was my fault entirely.. because I made her angry.

    in her mind, she did not exist as an independent agency (one who acts, one who initiates, one who chooses): whatever she thought, felt and did… was an automatic reaction to me.

    other people (including myself)- in her mental experience- did not have their own thoughts and feelings.. it was her thoughts and her feelings that she was inaccurately projecting into everyone..

    So it’s a part of the “assuming”, as I see it. Accusing people of thinking this and that.. getting angry about it and then acting on it.  How delusional.

    I remember my usual day was coming back from school, being sad, or at least not cheerful, (every day since early morning her partner was at our place, mocking me, then I was bullied at school- nothing to be cheerful about after surviving this, I would rather call it “tired”) her asking me “What is wrong with you”, me saying nothing, and then she always got angry “so you won’t speak to me now, huh?” and stopped speaking to me for the rest of the day. And on repeat, next day the same. What was on her mind then – is a mystery to me.

    it is a terrible existence to be trapped in another person’s sick brain, in the distorted upside-down reality that exists in their brain. It is refreshing to experience freedom from that trap!

    It is indeed.

    I knew it was fantasy. On the other hand, my mother’s fantasy (that I thought what she thought, that I felt what she felt), she didn’t know it was fantasy and there was no convincing her otherwise.

    Yes, it’s a completely different fantasy, different purposes.

    it was my mother’s PANIC that scared me the most. It was her uncontrolled and histrionically (exaggerated, showy) expressed upset, distress and panic that scared me so very much. It was the alarming tone and loudness of her voice, the extreme despair in her face, in her voice, in her words… she showed me the underside of her arms, showing me where she will cut her wrists and make herself bleed to death…  going on and on and on about how miserable her life was and how much better it would be for her if she didn’t live anymore. It was scary and heartbreaking.

    After I answered your question in the morning (spontaneously, for once) I wondered all day “Maybe Anita was right and it was not such a big deal, maybe she was too small and did not even understand this word..”. But now after what you wrote now I no longer have doubts about it being a big deal. It was scary and heartbreaking. – Yes it was. A horror movie, as you once put it. I tried to imagine this situation, I may know it from movies. Scary.

     I kept going over what I said and correcting myself, or I’d say things in a very cautious way, so to avoid being misunderstood or misinterpreted, covering all possible misinterpretations and addressing them before being misunderstood.

    I kept feeling that I was making mistakes and that the consequences will be terrible. I felt that there was something very wrong with me, and therefore, whatever comes out of me spontaneously, will bring disaster. It wasn’t that long ago, that I said to myself: it is okay to just type away/ talk/ think because there is nothing wrong with me (not more than with any other person), so there is no danger of something terrible being revealed if I am spontaneous/ not careful.

    Interesting how I think the same, remembering to be cautious, careful. My biggest worry is making a fool of myself and offending people unwittingly. And being a burden.

    It’s that simple, I agree. I noticed people rarely see it or they just ignore it/it happens to them too.

     

    #411575
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    There is so much in our communication that I need to be more awake to be able to reply thoroughly, this is why I will reply partly now, and more on Sat morning. I am glad you googled mountain lion, so that you know what I mean by big and scary.

    All my life I saw it was my mother’s job, duty to take care of me and she hated it“- when I read this, again, I was confused about whether I was reading your words or mine.

    Anita, if you tell me your mother too wanted to move to Canada… I will be speechless“- close: she wanted to move to the U.S., the U.S. was her first choice, Canada was a second or third choice, I am not sure.

    More tomorrow, have a good night, Joanna: I am so glad, so fortunate to have these conversations with you!

    anita

    #411576
    Joanna
    Participant

    I need to be more awake to be able to reply thoroughly, this is why I will reply partly now, and more on Sat morning.

    Anita,

    Of course, take your time.

    have a good night, Joanna: I am so glad, so fortunate to have these conversations with you!

    Have a good day Anita, thank you 🙂 I really appreciate our conversations.

    #411577
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Good night, Joanna, I am smiling now because of you.

    anita

    #411591
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Dear Joanna:

    I’ll try to write spontaneously. Still I need a lot of thinking and therefore pauses“- it’s good enough to form the intent to write spontaneously. (If you put any pressure on yourself to write spontaneously, it will not happen).

    I wrote that I was a “cleaning job” for my mother (having to scrub my body so to remove dirt), a job that she hated doing, and you wrote: “Exactly this. I wonder why is that..  it is a disorder, a personality, something they (our mothers) learned through their trauma but also developed in a way, from what I understand“- in her memorable experiences as a child, in the context of 1-on-1 with an abusive adult (ex., her older sister): she was the abused and powerless, and her sister was the abusing and powerful. Fast forward, she is now the adult, I am the child, guess what position she wants for herself: the abused and powerless or the abusing and powerful?

    One might say, why only these two choices, what about a 3rd choice? Answer: she only knows of these two choices from her very personal experience. She did not experience a 3rd option.

    Later I found out she had the chance to move out to Canada with her high school boyfriend when I was 7, but could not as she was already married and had me“- I don’t know what part of what you found out was true, if any (is it something she told you?) But if it is true, I doubt that she stayed with you and with her husband at the time because she was a devoted mother and wife.

    She just hated me“- and she just hated me.

    I relate to this so much. My clothes ae mostly black, neutral…  No earrings, no heels, no dresses (Although I did wore them on some occasions). Prepubescent – a very accurate term“- that’s me, prepubescent .. for the rest of my life, lol.

    She was not taught this, did not have a course on how to behave, what to say, yet she is a textbook, perfect example, and now…. we are seeing how our both mothers fit such similar description  (I am afraid of saying.. ‘the same’ – it’s terrifying, impossible.)“- they learned from a very personal experience 2 options when it comes to 2 people relating to each other: Win or Lose, Abuse or be abused, have all the power or have none of the power. A 3rd Win-Win/ Mutual Respect/ Shared Power… was not an option they had a personal experience with.

    So it’s a part of the ‘assuming’, as I see it. Accusing people of thinking this and that.. getting angry about it and then acting on it.  How delusional“- yes, consistently assuming wrong, then insisting that her wrong assumption is the truth, and that their accused person’s honest and true protest ..is a lie.

    I remember my usual day was coming back from school, being sad, or at least not cheerful, (every day since early morning her partner was at our place, mocking me, then I was bullied at school- nothing to be cheerful about after surviving this, I would rather call it ‘tired’)“- I had a feel of how I felt coming “home” from school (home didn’t feel like home).

    “her asking me ‘What is wrong with you‘, me saying nothing, and then she always got angry ‘so you won’t speak to me now, huh?‘ and stopped speaking to me for the rest of the day. And on repeat, next day the same. What was on her mind then – is a mystery to me”- reads like she was replaying a scene from her childhood.. only, like my mother, she had the adult role this time.

    After I answered your question in the morning (spontaneously, for once) I wondered all day ‘Maybe Anita was right and it was not such a big deal, maybe she was too small and did not even understand this word..’. But now after what you wrote now I no longer have doubts about it being a big deal. It was scary and heartbreaking. – Yes it was. A horror movie, as you once put it. I tried to imagine this situation, I may know it from movies. Scary.“- thank you. I needed this validation. Part of my lifelong emotional dissociation has been to emotionally understate the abuse that was done to me by my mother (and by others).

    Interesting how I think the same, remembering to be cautious, careful. My biggest worry is making a fool of myself and offending people unwittingly. And being a burden“- just in case you need the assurance: you are not a burden to me. The opposite is true: you are a resource, you are helping me! Also, neither one of us is a fool… and if I ever feel offended by something you say, maybe misunderstanding what you said, I will check with you and ask you if my understanding was correct or not.

    anita

     

    #411692
    Joanna
    Participant

     I am smiling now because of you.

    happy to read this 🙂

    Anita, I have read and will be responding to your post on Sunday evening.

    Take care and have a good day!

    #411698
    Anonymous
    Guest

    Thank you for the note, Joanna. I will be back to the computer in about 11 hours.

    anita

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