Mixed bag

Every time I think I am getting comfortable with how my world is I come across something that shows me I’m not. This time it was a very small feather in a card from my Mom that I had tucked away. She does love me to the extent that she is capable of. I adore feathers, I have been know as the feather slut to my friends. My only tattoo is feathers. They have been a consent love throughout my life. That she took the time to save this small feather and send it to me meant a lot. It gets me thinking about writing to her at least. But then, do I really want to. I can’t tell. I can tell I no longer want contact with my step father. I really just don’t and I don’t think that is out of line. Not to me or the others around me.

My therapist brought up the fact that possibly my mother suffers from her own mental illness. I was amazed to say the least. Not sure why, but I had never even considered that. Was it my own blindness that kept me from that realization? Possibly, my mate looked and me and said “Ya, you didn’t know?” Really so one of those things I was the only one who didn’t know. I guess it has to do with the whole looking at my mother as a person not just my mother. I know if friends treated me the way she has I won’t stick around for more. In fact I have cut a friend loose and that hurts almost as much.

Narcissists love to point out your flaws. I have been doing a fair amount of research on Narcissist parents, what an eye opener. I have sat on this post for almost 2 months as I try to digest all the information and the possibility that is what is wrong with my mother. This is still such a new concept to me that it is very hard to get mind wrapped around it. I m sure once I come to a better understanding I’ll have more to post.

This post was written a year ago. It still holds truth.

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