I only got in a physical altercation with my mother once (after a lifetime of being backhanded by her). It was NYE in freshman (or was it sophomore?) year of college, and she was going on and on and on about what a piece of shit my then-boyfriend was, how I'd regret being with him, etc etc etc. I slapped her; she threw a glass of wine in my face. I go to the kitchen to get away from her; she follows. I ended up knocking her across the kitchen.
That was the last time she ever raised a hand to me. But evidently, I still have a lot of barely repressed anger.
Sadly, she was actually right about the ex. And he was right about her (that she is a lying, manipulative narcissist with a mean streak a mile wide).
I should have walked away from both of them at 19. Well, hindsight and all that.
I'm going to go read my super trashy supernatural romance novel to recover. I found it at our Little Free Library. I think that's where those novels go to die. And this one will be going right straight back into circulation when I'm done.
happy Wednesday, y'all!