Just a note before I begin journaling—

I am here, in my thread, to continue healing, little by little. Journaling—especially stream-of-consciousness writing—works for me. That doesn’t mean I believe you, dear reader, should approach healing in the same way I do.

If what I share here troubles or bothers you, please feel free to skip reading it.

(I think I will start each of my posts on this thread with the above).

It’s time to fully validate myself. Time to reconnect with what was once dissociated.

Lately, there are things that bring me fear. As Alessa mentioned in another thread, I choose not to share certain personal details—out of respect for the people in my real life.

Fear has shaped much of my life. My earliest fears were twofold—fear that my mother would kill herself and fear that she would kill me. Since, psychologically, I had not yet separated from her in early childhood, those fears felt indistinguishable—one and the same.

That fear consumed me—first as a child, then as a teenager, and still as an adult. It held me captive, stalling my growth in countless ways—cognitively, emotionally, and practically.

In the last ten years, I have experienced so much healing that I am no longer the person I once was. I am not the depressed, desperate, spaced-out version of myself that I used to be. This is why I believe so deeply in healing—because the way I experience life now, especially in the last few years, is profoundly different from how I did before.

Yet, amazingly, there is still so much more healing to be done. The thing is, I know there can never be a happily-ever-after ending to healing—it is a continuous journey. Healing never truly ends, and I find meaning in the never-ending process of learning, growing, and becoming.

Being Trapped in Yesterday is a result of self-invalidation. The more I validate myself, the freer I am.

And now, Self-Validating, reconnecting Stream of Consciousness (inner-child speaking):

All I wanted, ever since my mother labeled me BAD- was to be GOOD.

I tried and tried and waited and waited for more than half a century (and that’s a long, long time) for my mother- this one person- to relabel me GOOD.

She never did the relabeling.

I feel a vast emptiness in my heart right now.

And I heard recently that she, at 85 or so, is very, very old indeed. She can never stand straight, she is permanently stooped over, and is stubborn and dizzy and deteriorating cognitively.

So, you see, she will never relabel me anything. She is dying.

My mother, the most important person in the world, is dying.

And she will never know that I loved her and she will never love me any more than she ever did, which was a very, very limited, conditional and abusive-kind of love.

Coming to think-feel about it, I lost her many, many years ago, when she was still young and standing straight.

It’s just so very difficult to let her go, even after having had no contact with her for so many years.

There is a part of me that, just now, wanted to reach out to her and make things right, the two of us- mother and daughter, now.

I am not feeling angry at her. How could I feel angry at an old, stooped over woman.

Mommy, Ima- so may years, decades- it is hard to say goodbye, goodbye to my hope that you will to here for me, on my side.

My Attachment for you lasted for so very long.

You meant so much to me.

It’s a big chunk of my heart that has been yours, for so long.

And you never knew. Couldn’t see it.

I love you, Ima. I wish you knew. I wish you were able to know or care about me caring about you so very deeply.

anita

* I am here, in my thread, to continue healing, little by little. Journaling—especially stream-of-consciousness writing—works for me. That doesn’t mean I believe you, dear reader, should approach healing in the same way I do.

If what I share here troubles or bothers you, please feel free to skip reading it.

Whatever comes to mind this Friday night:

In the Core of me, it has always been my Ima (my mother).

I suppose I never quite separated- individuated from her in due time, so she is still- and forevermore in the core of me.

All of my teenage and adult life I tried to get rid of her, to remove her from that space in the core of me.

But too late- she had already cemented herself in The Core of Me-

– something that couldn’t be reversed.

I have to live with this reality of what was done and cannot be undone.

The window of opportunity to separate- individuate had closed long ago.

So here I am: no point in.. trying to get rid of her, to remove her from my core where she cemented herself with countless histrionic, shaming, guilt-ing sessions of “poor me, evil you (evil-anita)” sessions.

I can’t get rid of her, too late.

So, all I can do- being true to myself- is to love her, from afar.

She is in the core of me, and there is NOTHING I can do to change this fact, this happening that was cemented long ago.

My love for her, a burning love is still ongoing-

This is who I am, and I can’t be anyone, anything else.

It’s a psychological thing.

It’s like I am carrying within me another person who didn’t give me the opportunity to be left alone.. to be Enough to stand alone without her.

Sincerely, I don’t expect anyone to understand what I am saying.

More so, I expect people to criticize me.

Will continue in a few moments-

anita

Continued: all I can be is me. Not something someone thinks I should be, or should have been.

Being me is someone who loves her mother even though she will never know.

So, case closed- she will never know.

But I know.

And so it is.

I am typing these words in a public forum that seems like it is not visited by many. Maybe one person in this whole world. Maybe two.

Not being heard, listened to is what I know only too well.

And yet, I understand.

I just noticed that Alessa sent me a message, only FOUR MINUTES AGO. Tears in my eyes, reading your words, reading your heart, Alessa!!!

You UNDERSTAND. I am forever grateful that you are with me in this moment.

May add more after submitting this.

anita

Dear Alessa:

I understand how mental health struggles can make communication challenging, and I truly appreciate that you take the time to respond when you feel ready. Your depth of understanding and empathy yesterday meant so much to me. More than anything, I want to express my gratitude—for your kindness, your wisdom, and your ability to put thoughts into words so beautifully. I feel seen, and that is a gift in itself. ❤️

I want to reflect further on your words from yesterday:

* “She even didn’t like any people. She didn’t trust anyone. So in her mind it would be all children are bad. All people are bad… People who hate themselves often cannot bring themselves to truly care about others. She was very sick”-

My mother was indeed very sick. She suffered from a combo of (undiagnosed and untreated) Paranoid, Borderline and Histrionic Personality Disorders.

I’ve never really explored my attachment style before, but this morning, I realized that mine is disorganized. In reading about attachment, I discovered a strong connection between growing up with a parent who has Paranoid, Borderline, or Histrionic Personality Disorder and developing Disorganized Attachment in childhood—an attachment pattern that often carries into adulthood.

Disorganized attachment forms when a child seeks love and comfort from a parent but also fears them. The parent may be warm and loving at times but unpredictable, distant, or even frightening at others. This creates deep confusion, causing the child to associate closeness with pain. Love becomes intertwined with the fear of inevitable hurt.

As the child grows, this ingrained fear shapes relationships, leading to struggles with trust, emotional stability, and intimacy. The longing for connection remains, but so does the deep-seated worry that closeness will bring harm. This internal conflict often manifests in cycles of attachment, suspicion, and withdrawal.

It’s like reaching for connection but then pulling away out of fear, even when there’s no real reason.

* “She was like an animal, beaten, broken lashing out at everyone who comes near her.”- the lashing out was part of her Borderline Personality Disorder. It was truly scary. Beaten, broken herself, she proceeded to beat and break me.

* “I feel like your Mother would have had difficulties raising any child. It wasn’t you personally who was being labelled… it wasn’t your fault. You were just there on the receiving end of it all.”-

For most of my life, I believed I was to blame for her behavior—that I was the cause of it. She told me this many times. She was unable to look within herself or take accountability for any behavior that was harmful, or even potentially harmful, to others. So, when she raged at me, she always positioned herself as Right and Good—and me as Wrong and Bad.

Alessa, your insight and kindness have helped me more than I can put into words. Please know that you don’t have to feel any pressure to continue guiding me on this topic; you’ve already given me so much, and I truly appreciate it.

If you ever feel comfortable sharing more about your own struggles, I’d be honored to listen—to whatever extent feels right for you. Maybe, in some small way, I can offer you even a fraction of the empathy and understanding you’ve so generously shown me.

anita

Dear Alessa- I want to reply in the morning, but for now, this Sat night, I am filled with appreciation and gratitude to you ❤️❤️❤️

anita