Sorry if this all seems sudden, but getting into a fight with my mother kinda made me think a little deeper.
I’ll try to keep it short. I’m autistic, and my diagnosis sent my mother farther into protection mode. But she’s not protecting me, she’s sheltering me, or trying to. I’m not shelterable. I’ve already seen the dark side of my life, and I’m not wanting to crawl back into her narcissistic, toxic arms.
Pissy, but unable to do much, sadly.
I did sneak a 5lb container of sugar into the house. But that’s a story for another time.