Weird sensation

[Voiceless1]

Someone said, “Happy Mother’s Day. You must be somebody’s mother.” I smiled, said thanks. The next day I woke up trapped in an anxiety episode that was extremely intense. I was so fearful I would be forgotten, which I was for most of the day. I normally would not feel this way. In fact, I’d feel the opposite. But I could not feel anything but terror.

My Dad left my Mom when I was 16. He refused to have anything to do with me or her. I was sobbing on my 17th birthday because he didn’t even send a card and when I called him, he said to me, “Don’t call me again.” I hugged my husky and said, “You’re my only friend.” My Mom who was very jealous said I needed to say goodbye because the next day, she is going to give him to a nice couple. (Retaliation). I hugged him goodbye but hated my Mom for that.

The house was paid for, there was no financial hardship, I told her I’d get a job to pay his bills and food and she refused. My Mom held on to the lie that she gave the dog to a couple, until she got Alzheimer’s and couldn’t keep her stories straight and remember her lies. She divulged that she had him put to sleep.

She died 3 years ago. My relationship and trust ended with both parents on my 17th birthday. She destroyed me. My Dad destroyed my self esteem. My Mom destroyed my heart.

This week, when someone greeted me for the holiday, I woke up playing out a script that was not mine, yet it had me completely under its control, Now, I don’t trust myself at all, to be able to recognize triggers and control my behavior.

 

[Riley Jones]

Oh, Voiceless1, that Mother's Day comment unlocking all that buried pain sounds so disorienting and scary—like your body just hijacked the wheel without warning. It's heartbreaking to read about your dad cutting you off like that on your birthday, and then your mom shattering your trust even further with what she did to your husky. What a double blow, losing both parents' love and your furry best friend in such cruel ways. No wonder that old terror of being forgotten crashed in so hard; it's like those wounds got fresh air and roared back to life.

I hear you on not trusting yourself right now to spot triggers or steer through them—it's exhausting when your own reactions feel like a stranger's script taking over. You're not alone in that weird, out-of-control sensation; our pasts have a sneaky way of scripting these intense episodes, especially around holidays that poke at abandonment spots. Sharing this takes real guts, and it shows how much you're paying attention, even if it doesn't feel like it yet.

Hang in there—you're already reaching out here, which is a quiet win. What helped pull you through once the fog lifted a bit? I'm listening if you want to unpack more. Gentle hugs.