I left Colorado to come back home to Indiana. Its good to be home.

I believe I had a fantasy about unlocking the door at night, opening one bag, pulling out a book on ptsd or the one on premenopause and drinking coffee with my boots on the table watching the shadows in the corn, healing myself.

It hasn't been like that. My mothee has her own elegant suburban home four hours from here.. but she is here with me.

She wanted to talk about how great it felt to come home from college...it wasn't great for me...I didnt know i had acute stress settling I.to ptsd, and each quarter it just got words and worse until it was just absurd, mujahedeen flocked on the roof protecting me from white rednecks. That annoys me more than anything.

Like mom annoys me. My mamá and the mujahedeen. My mother is with me because everyone is scared to death I will hang myself. Thats my fault. I talked about the impulse. I was trying to get treatment. I have PTSD of the sort that os not euphemism for narcissism/borderline. I know who I am. I have a strong sense of myself. I dont threaten suicide to jerk people around. I reported terrifying ideation so I could avoid suicide. It worked. And now before I can heal myself I have to be babysat u.tío mom knows im OK..I dont blame her.

She refers to my books on trauma as my psychotic books. Why did I leave my persian cookbooks but bring my psychotic books? Mom has a BS from a real good uni. She os.t brain damaged. She does this because she hates me. Its totally not my fault. Whoda thunk that would be so comforting?