September 16, 2019:
I slept with a hair trigger: the rustling of leaves outside would send me bolt upright,
not breathing, listening intently.
I frequently was up in the night and, frankly, hunger contributed.
At 3am eating Cheerios as quietly as possible.
I once made the mistake of telling her I'd slept poorly.
"Oh poo!" was her word-for-word response,
in front of a salesgirl who had already treated me with patronizing condescension.
Yah? Fuck you both to death and hell and back, was my response from inside your basic conduct disorder.
I walked out of the store, leaving my mother in tears, experiencing her own share of the humiliation I'd just felt.
To this day I have no problem with that. I was probably about nine.