I feel... uncomfortable, saying this.
Earlier today my mom came into my room -- something that, with no apparent explanation, makes me very uncomfortable. Then she climbed behind me and laid on my bed, and mentioned (with her eyes closed) that she fell asleep after work and wanted me to tell her what I wanted for dinner, long story short. Just regular, normal conversation, except she was on my bed near my pillows.
My first concerns, I feel terrible to admit, were related to OCD. I was checking to be sure that her daytime clothes and such were above my comforter, that the comforter and sheet weren't moved and therefore not exposing my pillow to the daytime world, and also that the pillow (a stuffed reindeer) she was using wasn't touching too much of her head and also wasn't touching the comforter.
My OCD irrational belief is that the bed being perfectly clean gives me the control in my life to sleep perfectly, and the more messed up it is, the unluckier I will be in the waking world, and (maybe even worse?) the more nightmares I will get. I'm aware it's ridiculous, but... well, OCD.
Anyway, that was my main concern at first, OCD stuff. But I didn't want to look absolutely insane so I didn't mention anything. I tried not to look. I started telling my mom about the video game I was playing -- explaining that it was basically a digital version of Dungeons and Dragons because then she'd understand without me boring her with facts. :P
Anyway.. I was extremely nervous of her being that close to me, and especially in my bed. I really don't know why... all that comes to mind is me wanting to cuddle with Brandi and it always turning sexual, always, even if I didn't want it to. I let her do stuff alone sometimes but then she'd get upset and blame me for thinking she was ugly and weird... I dunno. But obviously I'm not worried about my mom doing that -- despite other members here having less than stellar luck with moms, the worst mine did was not get therapy. She never purposely abused me. Especially not physically or sexually.
My dad wouldn't let me be near my mom. So, that might be what was with the second concern I had: that I felt like I was nervously/shyly hanging out with someone who I want to become friends with. Because that's the exact feeling I was having.
I was also feeling claustrophobic. Too many things in my room for there to be two people. Makes it hard to escape.
I know this sounds insane, but it made me miss certain cats who aren't alive anymore. The ones that used to help me break out of my room nightly in search for food. The ones that provided the socialization I required as a baby human. (No wonder I had a hard time feeling human, growing up... I wasn't a feral child, but I was the closest you could be to it and still being able to function in basic society. That may have made it easier to slip into being a fungus -- at least cats are mammals with similar social behaviors, sort of.) The right cat would have put me at ease -- in fact, the cat S jumped onto the bed between my mom and I and I instantly felt somewhat more secure. It's so... weird.
My dad was insane.
Also, my mom mentioned that the reason she didn't get any of her mom's inheritance was because her family had cut her off for marrying my dad... so stupid. Of them. Rude. It's true my dad would have ruined it for us. But my uncle has a house with an indoor pool, apparently? And I'm living in a literal dump?
In the car from the restaurant (no, to the restaurant, but it doesn't actually matter), my mom told me during a conversation that it's good I refused my kind friend's offer of magic mushrooms, because she had doubts that "someone with PTSD would have good trips." I was confused by this -- did some thinking, and realized it's because she said I have PTSD. I mean, I know that, but I'm so used to keeping my PTSD to myself so I don't like my family to know I have it. So she not only acknowledged that I do (of course she knows, I've had it way before I was 18) but she also clearly believed I really had it. That's the part that bothered me? That she doesn't think I'm doing this for attention, or to her a pity party?
But.. yeah. I am so sad that I can't interact with my mother the way I interact with motherly cats. I'm so f*cked up. I see my older sister (who has a different dad) interact with my mom like they're best friends, and I get jealous (it's actually less than jealousy, though, because I'm not mad about it, I'm just mourning what I'm having troubles achieving -- not wishing my mom liked me most or anything like that), and she has pretty normal and always happy conversations with my twin brother (who is autistic, so of course she doesn't get as upset with him because reasonable reasons), and my little brother is a "momma's boy" who needs my mom (and at the end of this month, his wife too) for so many things.
Meanwhile I came out way stranger... I'm glad my siblings don't have PTSD, though.
Also, my spot that was hurting with body memories -- of him sawing off the skin on my groin -- it started itching today. THAT weirded me out more than anything. It's like it's reliving healing now, with my leg burning and me avoiding putting weight on it (unless I distract myself, meaning it should be in my head), but I decided to look at it to be sure. Weird idea... there's a huge scar. White, raised, and hairless (at least for now). Got a big pain when I looked at it.
I'm guessing what's possible is I pulled a muscle, which caused pain but also triggered a memory? But this spot has bothered me before. Typing out it makes it slightly worse.
I have to remember that one of those spots is a surgery mark that was legal and legitimate. It's likely that's the scar I saw, because that was last year so it could still have a scar. I bet that surgery retraumatized me. Especially since the surgeon was a male doctor I already distrusted -- he was my Worker's compensation doctor and I hated him early on. He kept closing my case when I still needed help. Wouldn't listen to me. Although, to be very fair, I was confused -- I kept trying to walk into the ER more than three times in the same day while the risk management guy was trying to direct me literally anywhere else, because the university would have to pay without insurance if I did that. I kept getting confused and trying again, totally forgetting what he was trying to tell me because it didn't mean anything to my brain. TBIs for the win.
It has been long enough that I do not have infections there. If I did, there would be absolutely no doubts.
