I've been comforting myself to sleep with images of violently stabbing T.
I've written in the past how I use to hold a knife to my adoptive mothers throat. It was 'our game'. T said love had gotten enmeshed with anger between my mother and I. That playing on the very edge was the only way I could get close to her and mother would respond happily.

Maybe this is what is going on with these thoughts. I feel so frustrated that I, not T, but I! Can't let myself go and allow myself to just relax with T.

I shall Tally to her about this today