Dorky moo girl @maxine@social.mootech.eu

Stages of curl

With @behold3r and @ulvra it's like I am in a complete different world.
Interactions are positive, we care for each other, we share things, we have positive memories.

Before I had the two, my life was dominated by "joking", or rather hurting others on purpose, to entertain. It's all my bio family ever did. It's all they ever do still.

It's just two worlds that could not be more different an I am happy I found the world I belong into.

And mostly left the broken "family"

I remember vividly how she told me once I should stop living in my dream world (because I was talking a lot about socialist ideas)

I literally kicked her out of my room and wasn't ever angrier.
Because the person who lived in her own dreamworld for as long as I can remember, tells me I live in one???

She definitely noticed that she overstepped there, the hard way.

TL;DR my relationship with my bio mother wasn't loving. It was a constant power struggle between me, wanting to have my own reality acknowledged and her, wanting to leave in her coping dream world.

I could also talk about this for days, because it effects me so much, but also eh.

The result is though, treat me like a kid, because that's what I'm often enough.

I need help. Like with simple things, but help as in "I am here and make sure you can ask me"
and not
"I am doing this now, how I think it's done best"

Because the last one is just extremely triggering.

I guess there is likely even more.

But all the time I was kept in check with "what would other people think???" or with emotional abuse.

I know it's not her fault and it's her trying to cope.
But it literally ruined my life and gave me cPTSD and split me apart.

I just realize that my affinity for dualities It stems from there always been two worlds. My own world and the world forced onto me.

My entire life, I got tormented, abused, lied to, so my mother can keep up her own reality, where I am not existing.

My needs were not existing. I was not existing. Only the image she had of me mattered. Only me playing along mattered.

Playing along only resulted in more abuse, more of my own needs ignored, because "Look, you liked doing it! So it was good!"

Which wasn't true. I pretended to keep her imaginary world up.

Every time I tell something about myself, it's used to gain more control about me.

Every time I step out of line, I get disciplined..
I got never hit, but I was constantly told that what I feel is not true. That my entire world isn't real, because the only reality is the one my mother perceives.

Now combine that with trans stuff. Even if I felt as a girl back then. I wasn't even allowed to not eat food that makes me throw up, literally and pretend to love it.

Example:

I say I can't eat something/dislike some food. I get told that is untrue and it being delicious.

I literally can't eat the food, because it makes me want to throw up.

Get told that's nonsense and how I cannot appreciate all the work she put into preparing the food.

Me struggles, my mother starts crying because she can't disconnect me not being able to eat food from her own self worth.

So my start is already... bleak. I got "enough" attention, that I developed a lisp. Something I got told when I was 8. Before I thought I'm just flawed.

After that it's not much better. Childhood is dominated by keeping away from parents, but also wanting their attention.

The other big thing was, there were two realities. My reality and my mother's reality and it was a constant power struggle between the two of us and her using her dominance as a mother.

Then she met my father eventually, got a child, married (likely because of it)

Said child was my sister. My father was around, my mother was around. She got plenty of attention from the beginning. Even though, my parents were both in working.

Then I was born, mother was working, father was in the army.
Father not around, mother busy with first child and happy that second child is pretty quiet (I assume she was just not around hearing me)

So piecing my childhood together, piece by piece.

Problems start a generation earlier. My grandmother and grandfather fight a lot. My grandmother is depressive, neglecting her family a lot. I don't know much about her past.

This leads to my mother having to take over at a very early age, more or less raising her smaller brothers. She's also often used as a shield by her own mother, against her husband.

This left her deeply traumatized of course