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« Last post by Hopalong on April 22, 2026, 12:24:47 PM »
Exactly. Feet stomping. Taking toys but breaking them on the way out. I shouldn't have responded the first time.
I have had all sorts of jargon zip through my head but I think her fury is defensive. Like the aftermath of a narcissistic injury. I feel sad about telling her a couple things that pierced her defenses and likely caused her pain. But I also know that stubborn truth telling from my own perspective is the only thing I can do.
Body still feels it some today, Lighter, but better. Dropping shoulders. Happiness is a warm Pup, who's faithfully squashing my feet so I don't ooze off the bed.
Poet really has become a tragic figure to me. Tragic with fangs and claws. I think her terror of not being famous (like parents) is escalating as she ages and that's why she's writing so much and worrying about being relevant and recognized. (Instead of happy.) I'm the opposite, not better or worse. For me, the tedium of getting things out for publication is so unappealing I just...don't. But readings make my poems feel alive.
I've lost track of how many times I've sincerely and gently wished her well, peace, contentment, etc. Genuinely. But she hunts for offenses and finds them easily. If she allows me to draw and hold a boundary, however gently, something breaks for her. So I do think she feels hurt, or feels the real pain of her perceived authority not working on me any more. Reminding me so much of M's behavior at times, and maybe you're right Lighter, that PD behavior cuts across the variations.
I am calm again. Amazing to me how primal my stuff with her got. My own stuff gets in there, a lot to do with Nmom I'm sure. I don't have claws but am pretty good with words. I just felt unheard repeatedly and finally stopped placating. Sadder but wiser and overall, wiser matters more to me. Sad will pass.
hugs
Hops
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