Does anybody out there have a parent or in-law that acts like this? This came from an article I read about the spoilt brat / narcissist behavior. Please explain to me how you deal with this behavior and how much do you allow it to actually control your life before either just putting your foot down and saying enough and calling their bluff or backing away from the situation. I realize that they are our parents but when is enough just enough?
I know it can't have been all bad, though I'd still like to do it again better. It's in the nature of depressives to believe that the bits we got wrong were HUGE and the bits we got right were teeny-weeny and either incredibly easy or to somebody else's credit…
It really does get quite wearing mentally and emotionally and it's time I grew out of it. But I'm still going to apologise to my boy.
Twocents, if we all try really really hard do you think we could get to live by those rules too? Sounds cool! - nothing would ever be our fault again...
#1) narcs never make any mistakes
#2) if they do, it is someone else's fault, especially the victim's fault.
#3) all else fails, see rule# 1.
two cents ¢¢
My therapist - gosh, poor woman - once tried to grasp the nettle and told me firmly "I want you to say to yourself, every day, 'I love and approve of myself.'" After a stunned, goggle-eyed silence I'm afraid I squealed with laughter and she was quite offended - but, honestly, had she been listening to a word I'd said?
I think I did emotionally abuse my children. Or at least I think that with the benefit of 20:20 hindsight. Like many people, I would give anything to have another go at it. Among the panic, fear and stress all that love - and I do count my blessings, bonding wasn't a problem - got buried under an overwhelming urge to control, which was never going to sit well with an adventurous little boy, or with an iron-willed little girl (daughter in the middle was a happy breeze. Go figure). I yelled, smacked and nagged from dawn to dusk; or that's what I remember, of course. And it's not so much self-blame as bitter regret. Once I've told my son properly how proud of him I am, how much I loved him even when it least looked like it, and how sorry I am that I was so horrible to him… then I can stop saying I was a terrible mother. There's only so much you can make up for with chocolate cakes.
50schild, I'm sorry I haven't replied properly to your lovely hug - it's a work in progress, but my goodness what food for thought.
Here's something I'd like ideas for, please: middle daughter, the breeze, is however worrying me. She's 28, a junior doctor i.e. working every hour God sends. She has a nice-sounding boyfriend (haven't met him yet) who also has very little free time (he's a baby lawyer, big City firm). Now then. There's a rare week off coming up for both of them. HOW has she got wheedled into spending two days of that precious time with her father's family, notably her NPD grandmother? Why is she succumbing to FOG in a way that her siblings don't, and how do I stop this becoming a dangerous habit? She certainly is a people-pleaser, it's true, but normally she's realistic about boundaries - just not with that lot.
I speak now as a person who went to counciling yesterday (and EMDR) and one thing she said to me which makes sense - we are codependants from our childhood - people pleasing, make everything ok, want everyone to like us etc people. She said on one end of the spectrum is our dear narc - the selfish, self absorbed. On the other end is us...in the middle is normal. We have to be a little more selfish in order to protect ourselves and say no etc. we need to love ourselves, forgive ourselves and respect ourselves. What's that old saying, it starts at home - well for us - it starts within. Happy and healthy Friday all!
I am so thankful for mine - she has given me great tools for dealing with my mother - and today will learn more for dealing with my daughter. I just at this point not sure how to approach her - thinking I will just call when I am down there and say I wanted to see her and the kids - and just act like nothing happened...I want to smack her though!! Guess I better wait....
Emjo - on being used...when my daughter was in high school and lived with her dad - she only called me when she wanted something - I actually one time just bluntly said - what is it you want - she didn't even pick up on it!
50schild - don't worry about writing a book. We all need to unload. We also all need to detach. What your father is going through is HIS life. I tend to be very empathetic, too and have had to remind myself that what other people are going through are their journeys, not mine. I have my own journey, and it is hard enough without taking on myself the burdens of others. I don't mean not to be compassionate to others , or to help others as appropriate - of course. But not to feel you have to experience their pain, their emotions, their limitations. That is their journey. Focus on your own journey. You are first and foremost the caretaker of yourself. Often, that is the biggest challenge. You can, if you want to.
judda - glad the EFT worked. Growth is never easy! Here is to leaving our attachment to our trauma behind. I think it takes discipline, sometimes daily, to focus on the here and now and the good things that we all have."She is totally at sea in her smallest self. Oh yes, my mother too, although her world is expanding in an unfortunate way as her delusions are growing. I pray for relief for her too. Hugs don't work too well with her either.
sad - I believe that EMDR effective, as is neurolinguistic programing (NLP). I feel for you being caught between alcoholism, PDs and family members. My situation too. My daughter stopped drinking and is struggling with the PD. I know about the "stories" (lies). I was an abusive mother too, as she tells it. I do think it is important to keep a presence with the grandkids. You may influence them more than you realise. You are rightfully proud of your sons. Accepting the truth is the first step in dealing with it. I think you are doing very well. Keep it up!!!
Have a good day everyone and do something good for you today, or if not good for you at least enjoyable - like choc hazelnut fudge ice cream!!!
What I am most proud of is my sons all seem somewhat together. And my son that went to see her, he is wise beyond his years!
I tried to hug her but she had no feelings for me. She is totally at sea in her smallest self.
Today I will pray for her miraculous moment of love and peace that might someday overtake her fears, feeling some comfort myself in the act of praying.
I think we have to decide are we willing to leave this attachment to our own trauma behind? What can we do and what are we willing to do to be free at last and become more compassionate people without the bitterness and hurt. It's a toughie, I know!!!
Paragraph 2 Biographical
Paragraph 3 Hauntings
Paragraph 4 May-December Marriage
Paragraph 5 poor and dysfunctional poetry that I hope describes what hit me like bricks on my visitation to the family home, with still heart-beating parent well aware of all of his declines.
Paragraph 6 My guilt.
2. I’ve been visiting my other-UniVerse with my 93-year-old Dad in affluent community (used to be, now decrepit as in suburb of Detroit). I get no money from his success, because I was disowned years ago by Mom. Dad a Mickey Rooney look-alike, but bent 180 from Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus and probably lobotomized from PTSD WWII “Nuclear Occupation” (two weeks after the bomb, though military websites disclaim such a thing happened). Battle Creek, MI famous physician for lobotomy treatment. There is a temple scar. But perhaps the scar may have been from the Ford Proving Ground when he was riding 2nd as an engineer but got hit head-on because the driver was drunk. Dad, in his honor, declined Ford Motor Company’s offer to pay him off for life. Instead, Dad said “Forget it” – as there was honor in the old days. [I have written to Ford and the National Archives for release of these medical records, but this is a very sensitive area.] But his innate intelligence/Asperger’s/Epilespy-Engineer moxy gave him $$$ during prime years. Now, home and body decaying. I am caretaker of his home and body, and maybe occasionally and cruelly allow a bit of soul – but there’s a natural protection and aversion and a natural guilt that is near-incestuous “latter day wife,” as I have been trained for since birth by my BPD/malicious narcissist mother,to take care of EVERYTHING. Mom is forgiven, totally, as she DID LOVE AS BEST SHE COULD, and was 1st generation from a Russian father who probably (we can only guess) did unspeakable things to her, while dressing her “couture” because he was an amazing Detroit tailor (trained in Moscow and then fled for WWI US Army), and you cannot imagine the horror of unknown grandfather’s life (Cossacks raiding villages and heads cut off). Dad cannot talk much (maybe had epilepsy and/or traumatic brain dementia since I was a child, as never more than one-word replies and those seldom). But when he does, a look in his eyes, his mouth gaping, knowing there is something, something, he is aware of looking at me, looking as a dying soldier on the field -- then saying “Forget it,” and shaking his head. I encourage him, our eyes meet, but there are no words.
3. He would have given the shirt and home and savings off his back for any one of us -- that means you and I who post here – just because it means something to me, his child. Now, I recoil at the incontinence and urine smell at home. I can’t wait to leave, even though I cry all the way during my 3 hour drive back to my own home, with 82-year-old dear husband who is declining. We pay two shifts of caregivers $50K/year, because we live so far away, because Mom stung us continually and they never allowed the word “future” as they were financially blessed by good times and never dreamed it would end. Dad is from another generation that stood up for everything thrown his way. So his pride and minimal functionality means he can stay home til there is a huge problem. So now Sis and I try to balance the guilt of Dad, even though Mom probably more intended the guilt for her. Dad deserves better (i.e., old world living together). But my husband will not allow it – which is wise according to so many of you. My husband is declining, and May-December means many years when we could have vacationed, instead, I flew 3000 miles to Mom and Dads for two weeks at a time (Rena, you are so much more a saint than I, in fact I don’t know of anyone who did what you did). Husband was always understanding, though tormented that never, ever ONCE did Mom and Dad say “stay home as a blizzard is going to happen,” or “you need your rest” (I have lymphoma).
4. I need to start a “May-December marriage” thread but this thread is so fervent I can’t handle another stream in.
5. When at Dad’s, here’s what hit me hard. My BPD/malicious narcissist Mom died in late 2010 “without a word nor trinket of a memory or thought about her children,” however, she left 30-days worth of desiccated poops, wrapped very carefully in their luxurious oversized bath towels, and she ate upon a jumbo shrimp takeout ($25 delivery fee) the day before admitted to hospital. I had visited two days before, not knowing she weighed 65 pounds (she wore very glamorous robes and ordered a gusty expensive takeout). Not knowing anything about UTIs (parents hated doctors, as Russian and hard-Swiss grandfather did). Mom seemed “normal.” Poetry (that’s stretching it), is all I can write right now:
Psychic neuroma – She stretched for the stars, and slayed all in the path [almost 100% precision].
I took on her heroic wrath,
She and I were one.
A Golden Child, her favor de-graced
By momentariums of siblings erased (snuffed)
Brother and sister, both large and small
Her brain-screen-tether, they sputum’s life gall
Rescue in rescue out, she was always more stout
Though now there is nothing at all. POOF.
Liz Taylor in V. Wolf, maybe had taste of De Guilt
As elders grapple youth’s jilt
That never quits, no matter our wits,
Forever heave guiding stilts / guilts / wilts … whatever rhymes.
Infant, I breathed with Mom, for life and light
She met my need with wrath and fight
She slayed all coming in
It all a sin
Now I wrestle her might and her [sting].
The sting is love from a wounded one
The sting equal in both guilt and sun
Cling to precious good times, like these horrible rhymes
Without which there’s no grounding gun.
(Brother shot at parents frequently)
I grieve with guilt, I know better, but it’s my programming since infancy’s “Oxytosin” (and anyone with PTSD). I can “take a character” that distances myself, but then during sleep I am robbed of sleep.
6. Did any of you see the PBS on the lioness, walking away from her mortally wounded cub that dragged its injured back legs, Tigress emitting a mournful groul? That is Mom and I, and now my surviving family. Sis gets it. The lioness’ life was simple. Mine is not. When I walk away, I cannot sleep. I get nauseated. When I do affirmations, I go crazy (can’t focus on ADLs). I need to balance the guilt with the need for rest, with an ailing husband, with a not-totally-gone father whose soul I see in spite of the incontinence and inability to articulate words. Now that Mom is gone, I cannot “distance myself” like I could when she was alive. I am left with her wreckage and wrath, and even the little microns of her embryonic love. The injuries of the ill-will she wished on my family, because we and life broke her of joy. All are stung senseless, looking out at a cruel night sky. I am the caretaker of all. Romeo and Juliet: “All are Punished.”
Or is that just enabling kind of thinking? I already walked away from my alcoholic brother’s violent death drama, and picked up his morbid pieces, literally and figuratively for 30 years. Mom’s violent death drama (she wrote and said “not long now” but she was always saying that), with her mightily stained carpets from body fluids and up-chucked organs, seeping to “show me what I did to her “ (I think of Jackie Kennedy consciously wearing her pink suit to show America what they did to her husband.) Flipping and flopping in words and conscience. Am I of the Me Generation? Or are we the Me Generation because medical science has created long lives and incredible education and social networking created more manipulation and sophistication about guilt? Are long lives, with the spark of consciousness underneath the decline – our own soul evolving that we should stretch to precociously understand for the sake of those who survive us? Though it kills us. NOOOOO. Wouldn’t a Marine do that, stand up? Rena, Ashley, Sad1, Countrymouse, and the rest of you who I read and weep with. Is that what we are wrestling with, standing up to the Marines in a world of nearly-touchable Yoga?
Mommie Dearest has been the narc mother from h*ll my whole life but these days she's just a sad little shell, mostly in bed, from where she could see the birds on the feeder and the basket of flowers I put up outside her window. My mother deteriorates terribly day by day and may not have much time left.. The birds and flowers are all she has left. To say the least I am totally livid.
Think I'll have a glass or two of wine and nap. On waking I may feel less like turning into an axe murderer! Dammit, it's the principle of the thing!!
Rant over and thanks for letting me vent!
Ashlynne - my hairdresser is experiencing the same thing with her mother. She had her in her home for 5 years, then finally had to mover her in AL. She was abusive and she had no sibling help (sound familiar everyone). In the last 2 months she has finally gotten to the point of no fight left - she tells my friend every time she comes that she loves her. My friend is so relieved that her passing will be a left on a positive note rather than that ugly narc behavior. It sounds like maybe your mother is at peace a little , which means you can also relax and enjoy your life a little. Nice to know there is a light at the end of the tunnel!
I went and saw my councilor last week and discussed my daughters last scud missile - feeling better but still no word from her. My mother is strangely quiet...no emails. No news is good news right? We got a call from our son who just left for Alaska - working 21 hour shifts - slave ship! Don't think he will do it for 4 months!
I hope all the fathers out there had a nice Father's Day!
She barely eats and sleeps most of the time and I doubt she'll last another year but now I'm able to share a little of my life with her. That we'll come to the end in a more pleasant way is helping me rid myself of as lifetime of FOG. Told her I have a friend coming for the weekend. Haven't seen her in 25 years but we've always kept in touch and mother was delighted.
This past week I've run her errands, installed a bird feeder and flower basket outside her window and done her nails. Next week my bathroom is being renovated so there will be chaos. I visit about once a week now, the pressure has eased and I'm starting to regain my health.