January 04, 2010|
My mother is so dense. She told me I had to drive my brother to his car, in my car. I can't do that. Why is she so dense? Why does she have no idea??????
I called my dad, and I was stressed out, and he could barely understand what I was saying. Because English is not his native language and because he is old. My distress over it evolved into the desperate panic that occurs when my safety is compromised. I asked him, if he could pick my brother up. He was annoyed. I felt so desperate and needy. When my obsessive-compulsive disorder is put to a test, sort of, I become frantic and immature, like I've gone back to being 16, and nothing makes sense except my need to be safe.
My mother corrupted me. She didn't molest me. But she corrupted me, and now I am scared to touch her, or anyone who touches her. And she tells me to put my brother in my car.
My dad was so annoyed. Didn't even say bye. Just made some exasperated thing, said some exasperated thing. Hung up.
i wanted my friend to pick up the phone but she didn't.
When things like this happen, it validates me in a sense. It tells me that my struggle isn't imagined. That when my path is compromised, the bones of my struggle expose themselves. So I know I'm not making it up out of laziness. I know this anxiety is real. I'm not making it up.