Referring to this post, things are swings and roundabouts, but better. The constant panic in my stomach is so much less now. I don't even have to remind myself all the time that things are different now. It's bizarre but great. I am so much calmer. I know that my mother did love me and that the alienator is a liar. I lived with the belief that she did not love me and that I was therefore unlovable and not good enough for even a mother's love since the age of six. It made me so unsure and uncertain, scared, nervous, insecure. I was afraid of everybody because I waited for them to find out that there was something wrong with me. I couldn't have really deep friendships because I am a bugger for withdrawing from people before I get too close to them. After all, what's the point, if even my mother can't love me? No one else will.
Now I'm much better at relating to people. I don't have to fill every silence with chatter so much anymore. I used to annoy myself as well as other people. Sometimes I slip but I also don't hate myself for it afterwards. Please bear that in mind if you know someone who can't seem to stop talking: it's nervousness. For some reason, they're telling you about themselves so that you know they are worthy of your attention. They're not bragging, although it seems that way. If they say "I've done that!" etc, it's to show a link with you, not to get one up or show off.
I don't hate myself so much either. I'm relating to more and more people without being nervous and if I am nervous, I'm masking it much more easily. I'm controlling my mouth and not chattering a lot of the time. I'm not saying I'm ready for any deep relationships just yet. I'm still calming down, still winding down from three decades of screaming tension because of a blatant and outrageous falsehood that was inflicted on me by a wicked person/a damaged person (take your pick or pick both). I need to get to know this new person - or is it the person who was always there? I think the latter. She was in there but hidden because that person wasn't good enough for a mother to love. I was the failed experiment/the failed prototype. The real me was hidden beneath all that and is taking time to come out - but she's coming out. My clothing choices seem to be altering first.