when I changed from an individual my mother was proud of to some else whose genuine personality she was a victim of.
It seems most likely it was around the time (whenever that was) that she stopped being the one who received praise for who I was. When it was instead compliments given in my direction for the young girl I was becoming.
I doubt this was when I first began talking although that would make sense looking at the situation from the outside, instead I think I was already so controlled and moulded at this young age that it would have been when ever I stopped been wholly dependant on her, when ever I questioned her.
When I started to have tiny elements of a life outside her domain, when i was allowed to friends houses alone maybe, which in its self highlight my desire to always be at home. I hated sleeping out I always wanted to be at my house….. I still do. This could be another autistic trait. The dislike for the unknown and unpredictability but I’m no longer so sure.
Was it when i received good marks or did well without her being able to take the credit like she did for my being ahead in my first years at school, telling me “I made sure you had a head start” I know I wasn’t deprived of attention and of course, this was the problem. But I absolutely don’t believe I ever took priority. Not over her.”.
Was it when I could hold a conversation, when i spoke to her about my own views on the world? When I expressed fondness of others. When it became clear though not at the time that I had adhd and desired a lot of entertainment or stimulation. When the lack of this contributed to severe ocd and intrusive thoughts at 7 or 8 years. Something I’ve been told in recent months was also likely attributed to a lack of control. I also know now that some ….. ideas we’ll call them (worries or tendencies) I had were absolutely seeds planted by her.
B**ch!!
Or was it – simply and just – when it became clear I was “good”. Too good. Too innocent. Too honest. Something she also took credit for……..
“I can’t complain” shed say, swallowing.
when I’d voice an opinion or innocently give an answer she didn’t like.
“ I always told you how important honesty was,”
And she did. I learned the early the importance of telling her the truth and answering what ever intrusive thing she asked honestly. Because if I didn’t. One day. If someone hurt me. She wouldn’t believe me.
…Still wondering when.