Puking cat

I had an insight in therapy and the more I think about it the more,it seems true.  Remember I told you about yelling at Gonif for puking?  Well, I used to get blamed for causing my mother distress when I got sick.  It was all about her.  I got sick to hurt her.  That's how I was feeling when I yelled at the poor cat for puking.  And he didn't understand the yelling.  I was just way off base.

And I was pondering how my mother came to be a mean mother and had to look at her mother, Dorothy. She was a saint to me but maybe she was distant as a mother.  And I learned from everyone that I was at the nexus of the family problems. Dad used to call me names and would say he was just kidding and couldn't I take a joke.  And I remember one time dad and I had a tussle over seating the the couch and he physically pushed me off the couch onto the floor and to this day I get spasms in my neck from landing on it that day.  I didn't stand a chance as a kid.  I tried to be the clown, the good child, the wild child, a conciliator but none of those roles worked for me.  I just keep coming back to the lack of parenting I had.  And the fact hat dad and I had ten good years together after my mom died really didn't make up for it.  I didn't get to be a kid,  I was a caretaker, an enabler, a parent to my parent.  Dorothy provided a certain relief but even she could be cold and distant at time if she thought  I had been bad.

So that was therapy today.  I can't wind down or relax.  My mind is going a mile a minute,  I am manic with these words and thoughts.  Maybe time for a pill.  Or time to give Gonif some more turkey and not yell at him if he pukes,