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trying on a metaphor

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@neeeeday
Trapped in the talkative cycle
having one of those executive function days where everything is too many steps
by which i mean, like, here's how my brain parses the steps in making coffee
good day:
make coffee
regular day:
put water in coffee maker
put coffee in coffee maker
turn on coffee maker
bad day:
take pot from coffee maker
turn on sink
fill up coffee pot
turn off sink
pour water into coffee maker
put coffee pot in coffee maker
open cupboard
get coffee filter from cupboard
get coffee beans from cupboard
put filter in coffee pot
measure coffee
pour coffee into filter
close coffee maker
turn coffee maker on
anyway this is a "14 steps to make coffee" kind of day
This is actually a really good way of explaining this
I’ve been no contact for 4.5 years, now. My abusive mother sent me 3 emails last week, And every night since, I’ve had nightmares.
The emails were not traumatic exactly, She said she loves me, That I should call her. Then again, That I should call her. And again. That I should call her.
I did not call her, dear reader. I will not break No Contact.
She doesn’t love me. She isn’t capable of it. She misses having someone to hurt. She misses that I came running back no matter what she did to me. I always came back. It’s taken her 4.5 years to realise that this time? This time I may not come back. That I wasn’t lying when I said I wouldn’t come back.
The nightmares are all-consuming. I dream that my best friends put me outside, into the rain, telling me I’m a bad cat. I dream of vacuum cleaners endlessly. I dream that I am stuck in loops of anxiety In a car that never stops, or a plane that never lands.
I sleep at night beside my beloved, and wake up crying, shaking and cold. I wake tensed for flight, I wake curled into a ball. I wake with the whispers of her voice, snaking through my sleep. I nap through the day, and jolt awake, hypervigilance overwhelming, Fear overriding.
I’ve been no contact for 4.5 years, now. My abusive mother sent me 3 emails last week, And every night since, I’ve had nightmares.
Being in an abusive household is such a ride everyday, like you'll wake up looking forward to going to sleep at night at the same time you'll wonder what kind of parent will you get today. Like are you going to make me laugh or send me to sleep crying?
sometimes you catch yourself wondering "is it me?? am I the problem??? Is anything even wrong or am I making it up???" And that, on its own, should be enough to remind you that it was fucked to begin with
Because little girls who grow up with the constant threat of a parent who does not love them in their lives learn to listen for footsteps, watch body language, and understand it is they who are responsible for their own little lives.
- Snow White, Nikita Gill
i always feel so guilty when i talk about how abusive my mother is. she's unnecessarily mean, neglects me since i was a child, hurt me on purpose just so she could have fun, i almost died once because of her. im pretty sure she's narcissistic. but she's nice sometimes. when i talk about her abuse is like betraying the rare loving side of her.
When I think of my mother
I think of a guard holding me captive but not in her arms
When I think of her voice I think of a siren
Constantly sounding after pulling the alarm
I'm anxious and broken because of her words
I’ll never get back the time I spent putting her first
When I think of my mother I'm often in tears
'Cause she is the reason for all of my fears
- Mommy by Acacia
You do not owe a life debt to your mother.