That's the best word, I guess to describe my past relationship with my mother.
Since my mother found my exact address
sometime in 2012, there have been several incursions on my privacy. At first it was just the occasional card that quickly disappeared under Cyn's expert filter
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Comments 20
I feel like the first 20 years of my life my mother made an utter misery and the second 20 I've suffered the effects of what happened in the first, all while trying to be a force for good in her life, helping when my dad died, finding things she really loves for birthday presents, going places she'd like, and of course the constant emotional work of keeping her on an even keel when she encounters the real world - and I'm actually done now. I have done more than my share. If she sorts out her head once, you know if she was really genuinely recovered and sorry (not in the "I'm sorry you feel this way/whatever it is you think I did to you, I'm sorry" shitty non-apology way, but actually sorry) I still wouldn't be interested in reconciliation. My skin crawls when I'm in the same room as her. I fucking hate her, and I respect this emotion as one that is keeping me safe.
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