My mum shouted at me, a lot. Refused to let me have my own space, and forced me into councelling, and then never mentioned it again.
I pretended I'd stopped a few weeks later. She often made me show her my arms and legs though. But she never once tried to talk about it.
So yeah, I just pretended I'd stopped.
I lived with her another three years after that, and I'd never stopped, I just got better at hiding everything.
My dad though, has been fantastic. He admits that he doesn't really understand how I can do it, but he understands why I do, and helps me look after myself, and lets me have my own space when I'm feeling bad. The complete opposite of my mum really.
I cried.
A lot.
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