I grew up with the wrong idea that I should always do the best for others so that they wouldn’t be mad at me. I pleased other people even when it was hurting me. I did it out of fear. Fear of being left alone in a scary, confusing and violent world. My mother has never been emotionally constant. One day she wakes up fine and then she shifts her mood quite radically and for no apparent explanation. Her mood swings have a lot of emotional violence and I assumed from a very early age that it was my fault and that I could always do better to avoid her spurs. I became a fixer and an enabler, always hoping the next time I would be able to prevent my mother from lashing out. If I tracked every action, feeling and thought, she wouldn’t be mad and raging. I just had to do everything right.