I can’t tell anybody that I miss my mum

That’s how I feel now: I would like to call mum and tell her that I miss her after she died. Sorry, I really do not like the ‘passed away’ expression, it seems to me like this term suggests that she’s going to come back. I try to use it, but when I really miss her, I can’t.

When I realise I can’t call her, I think about who’s next on the list and it’s my brother. It makes sense that it should be him who I talk about that – I mean, it makes sense to me, it seems like the right procedure. But he is an alcoholic! When I first told him mum died he told me to call the next day. He didn’t want to talk and anyway, when he talks it’s all nonsense.

I don’t want to talk about how I feel to friends. Not that I’m worried they wouldn’t understand, more because it seems to me that, if they never met my mum, they shouldn’t be involved. Maybe they would want to help, but for me, that doesn’t seem like a correct procedure.

My mum was overpowering sometimes and, if I have to be honest, I never felt accepted by her the way I really was, I felt she wanted me to be different. And yet, I was the most sensible human being in our family so she had no other choice but to like me. Which was kind of how I felt about her. Before my dad had the breakdown I actually preferred him to my mum.

Life feels so empty now. One moment I’m fine, and thinking I want a new challenge, the second I’m worried about how my life is going to work out if I can’t even speak with her. And after that I’m resentful about all those years when I wasn’t supported to be myself and had to try to become somebody else.

A recent one

A lady on my Facebook autism group told me that she believes that inside we’re all fine and we need to go back to who we really are. I’m wondering if that’s possible? And even if it is, how long will it last after contact with other people?

The weather wasn’t too bad today at the end, certainly not bad enough for weather warning, but I didn’t go out. I stayed on my sofa and spent quite a lot of time doing my patterns. I also made coffee and plum muffins, they turned out quite nice. I had one in a bath, together with a cup of tea, and I may have another one instead of supper.

I suppose I’m sad. But I don’t really feel desperate any more. I guess visualisation is helping me. Although I possibly should try to stop visualising that I’m rich and famous. Do I sound like someone who could be famous? I don’t suppose so. Famous people don’t usually moan.

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