June 20, 1965
My mother’s fear. Everything in her is fear. Everything in her shows fear. I had to sit beside my mother, repeating everything, answering all of her questions. Once I spoke too quietly, another time too loud. I always try to be patient. I can only manage when I prepare myself completely.It hurts me so much to be impatient or rude with my mother. But sometimes I can’t be any other way, I answer when I should be quiet or just say yes, yes. I want her to understand all the time, that she understand me. Maybe she simply doesn’t understand me. I want to resist and control myself at all costs.