bolond anya

Best advise seems to be; keep her in the loo as long as possible – natural habitat and all that. Won’t work though.

The parent who raised me. is a person with seemingly inherent satanical characteristics. Course, others described her as an angel.

Uses drawn out silences and verbal pauses with devastating effectiveness. Adept in ruination, machinations of almost limitless range; draws readily, copiously from the vaults of the bottomless pit.

First, if at all possible (all things possible with …), view this as Jesus counsels His own, regarding family. 

Matthew 10:34. Jesus says He wasn’t sent to bring peace on earth (how is it, that church goers invariably get this backward?), but a sword to divide. He sets at variance a daughter from her mother.

Jesus adds the following warning. „A mans foes are of his own household.” Explains so much, personally. I now thank the Lord for that ugly situation of hidden parental psychological abuse. 

If I had a loving parent, I might never have scrambled in desperation; frantically groping for breath, life, light – which released me from the clutch of satan. I also am learning reasons why I am ‘from’ her.

Turns out we have things in common. Old roots of sin. As her faults are seemingly besetting me, I get to have a close look at the outworking of those faults we share. Another form of ‘old things are passing away’.

I keep most communications to phone. In a call, if she’s in default ‘devil’ mode, I read a book while she spews out pollution. If really bad, I review Yahoo Q & A’s. Recently I did 45 minutes of intensive exercise while she fouled the air.

This all worked amazingly well. It even helped her. Subconsciously she sensed her channeling fog of dearth wasn’t achieving the requisite attention. She became almost personable. Well, perhaps not. But a marked departure from ruinous.

And, as another respondent also mentioned, I don’t ever call her mom, mother, etc. First name, always. All the above strategies resulted in a blessed (for both of us) distance.