I’m sitting here with a throbbing, sugar-induced headache (my substance of choice). My mother arrived earlier this evening. I love my mother, and we’ve always gotten along well. But I notice a huge shift in my personality, and I don’t like what’s come out of my mouth tonight. I’m too fuzzy to diagnose this new character and name it, but maybe tomorrow will bring more clarity.

I’m not bulimic, but right now I think throwing up would make me feel better.

Why am I fighting with myself? Am I reacting to the past? Or am I uncomfortable with the present?

She has such a different version of some of the most traumatic events in my life. Is it merely innocent perspective, or is it the dance of denial?

I feel sick… I’m going to bed.

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