A confession

I drafted this a few months ago though I was ashamed to share it. Today, I realize it may help others. I elected not to edit it though this post claims it to be recently (yes recently at time I drafted it, it happened a few months back).

Recently, I did something I did not expect or rather didn't think I was capable of. My mother "the Hulk" or rather that person who instilled fear in me sent me a gift a few months back. I confess I was more terrified than surprised. I also admit that her gift caused a panic attack, it hurt me as I was flooded with bad memories. While I understood she attempted to do something nice, her gift came across as senseless and hurtful. I felt guilt and hurt. In other words, I wasn't certain what to do with it. Ultimately, I debated that I should get raid off it. It pained me too much. It brought a certain feeling of control as if I was to say: NO MORE.
Anyhow, most recently (a few days ago), my mother sent me another gift which of course reflected how much she does not know me. Instead of letting it affect me, I viewed it as an attempt on her part to connect. I gave it to someone to whom I knew it would benefit. Even my younger sister admitted she knew our mother had failed in selecting such particular gift. She advised her not to though as usual our mother ignored the fact that she could be wrong. Oh well, I took the higher way. I parted with it without feeling guilt. I also chose to my surprise to keep her "FIRST" ever card (note) sent with it. I don't care much for her writing but as I like the card (my sister recommended), I chose to display it as if to say I can accept something from her. This is strange. I must admit despite having tried in past, I don't care: I simply do not love this individual who never acted as a mother toward me and who today I fear.