The fawns from 88 South Road in Londonderry seem to shriek through my ears. My mother’s ego has been baked in as her being the primary caretaker because I am not able to be my own autonomous self.

It’s getting really sad as I get older this old woman just continues to treat me like a perpetual child. From excessive dialog. Having to “just”-ify things, come right upstairs to the kitchen to “investigate” some sound, and this horrible arrogance of taking control of things just to have domination because she’s insecure in other parts of her life. I am not diagnosing her, but I also suspect she’s a Highly Sensitive Person, where there’s constant self-surveillance, which sucks the people around her, who she feels she needs to “protect”

I also have suspected maladaptive personalities. Then mix with my autism where I can be imbalanced between getting a random telephone call on my desk phone (I am trying to tweak the Cisco UCM instance for the spring into the summer to support more telephony features, and at the time, emphasize calling a user over calling a room. Why? because if I don’t answer, she’ll call down another extension till I answer.

The pandemic has really halted the rest of my 30s and perhaps the rest of my life. I can’t use the “L” word that is logic, where she can’t logically process some random thump without reacting and checking out a situation because she has a maladaptive ability to respond over react. It’s also known as the FUCKING MATERNAL INSTICT!

I am sick and tired of having to deal with this HSP and make sure my tone is happy and joyful instead of her having to call react, ask what thump was happening at 15 minutes and 10 seconds ago, and I am a matter of fact person, and she doesn’t direct answers, but she told me a couple weeks before she prefers direct responses. But if I am not direct, because i am trying to mentally log what I had accidentally  hit on the attic level bedroom floor, I sometimes loose track so I am not definite, so she then has to explain the reasoning on the desk phone for gawd knows how long. But gawd forbid if I dialed 203 to her basement cube, I would get “i’m busy” “wait I need to stop this and then talk to you so you can explain what you want” (notice the dialogue in that example)

I can’t do this without another person doing some work that may not be as fun and happy and get some self reflection and realize how much she is driving me to INSANITY with her constant direct, masculine, dumb downed convos directed to me, and she can’t accept my direct, matter of fact, without having to debate the nuance of what dropped 15 minutes before or within or if it was the first, second or third. I am picking up my bedroom dammit and you had no business calling me because you came up to the staircase as I turned on the coffee machine for a coffee break where it wasn’t the time you’e in the kitchen!

I do not love how my mother is such a tomboy but if I am even over feminine I get strange reacts.

I can’t do it!

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