It is wild re-reading old posts, being reminded of a few things (i.e., the solitary apology I ever received from mom), and the instability of my relationships with mom, my sister, and her sister. If things were relatively peaceful between mom and I, then things with my aunt or my sister suffered, and visa versa.
If mom was fawning over one of us, she was fighting or freezing someone else. And always triangulating. Someone always had to be the villain or scapegoat in her narrative.
Damaged people DAMAGE PEOPLE. The collateral damage for me is I am left shattered, anxious and avoidant, and hyper vigilant—the last characteristic I am viewing as a super power that serves to protect me, but still it is exhausting constantly bring mindful and assessing risks.
Mom is the one who physically died, and yet I am left behind feeling as if I were already a ghost and an afterthought. Sometimes I feel as if I were a ghost haunting my own grave that no one visits.
Mom wasted so much time creating & stoking chaos, it didn’t leave much time for love, though there were glimmers of it (or so I thought) along the way that got diluted in the chaos.
Sadly what little glimmer of familial love or ties that remained in the aftermath of her death, the Trump presidency and the persistence of the COVID pandemic diluted things to the point where I am convinced there isn’t much left at all.
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