Continued (trigger warning.. sensitive topic):

Fear, the fear of being alone (autophobia), that’s been my fear for as long as I remember.

There were 2 kinds of Alone: (1) being without that person (previously referred to in this thread, as my mother), once she does what she repeatedly said she will do: kill herself (commit suicide). And that, as she repeatedly said, that she’d kill herself because I was a bad, bad girl, the worst. The worst girl in the world.

(I remember her threatening to kill herself when I was younger than 6, when I was 20+, and last time I remember, I was in my late 30s or early 40s).

(2) being with that person: the crushing criticism, guilt-tripping, shaming.. shaming, lots of shaming, shaming me to the core. Crushing my spirit while keeping my body alive.

Couldn’t live without her, couldn’t live (as in truly live) with her.

The first was fear; the second was fear and anger: great anger, RAGE.

I want to talk about that RAGE (talking to her, in my mind, here): You tell me: who do you think you are..? (you big zero).  Today, I ask you: who do you think YOU are? Your shame does not give you the right to inflict it on ME!

You literally cut your head off in photographs, it’s a shame.. but you have no RIGHT to figuratively cut off my head by shaming me to the core, and at length, crushing my spirit, mutilating my brain. You have no such right!!!

And yet, you took the liberty to do what was oh, so very wrong for you to do.

You took that liberty because you were not afraid of retaliation, not from me, not from anyone else. For there was no one for me, no one with me.

Who do you think YOU are?

You called me names, you told me how bad, bad, bad, bad… bad, bad of a person I was- am.

You are!

It is a bad person who returns shame for the unconditional, most dedicated love of a daughter for her (perceived) mother, the love of a little girl looking up to her mother for love in return.

Alone without her; alone and condemned with her. RAGE.

anita

Continued:

I am taking a break from fear, anxiety and rage to mention Love. Here is a bible quote about love that I like very much (1 Corinthians 13:4-6): “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth”. 

This is how I want to love.

anita

Continued (trigger warning, as always):

I keep posting here because it is working for me, it gets me closer and closer to peace-of-mind. And if what I post here helps a single other person out there, that’s good enough for me, a worthy cause.

I am alone this evening, not yet dark, autophobia. I feel the scream from the inside, inaudible, yet intensely, quietly, terribly loud: Mother! Help me! Somebody help me!

This is not an intellectual exercise, here, it’s emotional: Help Me!

I feel the despair. I feel the what’s-the-point, no one is here for me, no one is there for me, no one to hold me and help me.

The Alone-ness.

How is it that no one hears me, no one hears my cries?

All alone, I am all alone, no one there for me?

Autophobia, this means.. I am going to die, all alone?

And no one knows, no one cares?

I hear a noise outside,  a helicopter in the sky perhaps, The noise is gone now, It’s quiet again. Alone. A bit of darkness outside, alone inside… Here’s the helicopter sound again.. someone is out there, a human being.  Who is that person in the sky..?

Those Formative Years of childhood, what they formed into me is a desperate alone-ness and loneliness, the there’s no one there for me.

Judging by the desperate cries of a coyote pup a few years ago, one who found himself (or herself) alone, separated and far away from the pack that one night, it’s a terrible feeling, death-about-to-happen any moment. For a highly social animal (a human, a coyote, a dog) separation/ alone-ness = death.

It’s darker now than when I started this post, not yet dark but really close to being dark, the closing of a day.

anita

Continued:

I just wrote a poem for a friend. I like it (I hope she likes it), so in the spirit of liking it, I’ll write another to.. you guessed whom (if you did), I’ll write it to that person:

I guess you were right all along

I didn’t love you

I loved what I needed you to be, just for me

Not who you were.

I loved the idea of a mother

Not the person that you are, the person you have been

For how could I love or like a person who hated me

I loved the idea of a person (a mother) who liked me

You disliked me in so many ways, thoroughly, inside out

And in turn, I disliked myself, I disliked you, I disliked everyone-

– A great start in life

Not.

And now, as I tie loose ends in my heart and mind

I say to the idea of you: farewell idea.

Left is what’s always been there; that person who disliked me

I can’t change this reality, not retroactively, not in any other way

it just so happened to be this way.

Farewell.

anita