Alligator-Filled Potholes

As a teenager I felt like my mother could look right inside my mind and see my thoughts and dreams and wishes. She could see my clear see - through body like those plastic toy science models. She said "I had bad wiring" implying there was something wrong with me thinking there was something wrong with her. She was the one confessing to me that she was addicted to speed. Does dad know? I immediately asked. I remember the moment vividly - we were in the car one the way to my therapist. I was 11.

She said she could behave the same way to my other siblings and I would always respond differently. It was always my fault that I could see deeply and feel deeply. And she made it clear that it was my responsibility that she could not see these things. She told me I was responsible for curtailing her out of control behavior. As if I wasn't busy navigating my own alligator-filled potholes.

I remember vivid dreams of smashing heavy clear glass cookie jars. I had so much anger and it began to twist inward going as a force against myself. I wanted to disappear, I wanted to die.

As a 28 year old adult I read about Munchhausen's Syndrome-By-Proxy and a window opened.

Things made sense

and suddenly a map was drawn.

I always wanted to be a cartographer.