I had a comment from a woman named Traci on one of my narcissism posts called Daughters Of Bad Fathers.
Here is here comment:
Ugh. Feeling bad for him is the worst, so don’t worry about not feeling compassion! Despite years of therapy, codependents anonymous meetings, books, internet articles, self-coaching, etc etc, my narcissistic dad always manages to make me feel sorry for him and feel guilty that we’re not closer.
And, KK, I hope you’re right, that he’s not “the worst type,” but I recently learned that I was wrong in having thought the same thing about my dad. After being with a truly malicious and malignant narcissist/sociopath of a husband, I had classified my dad as a benign narcissist. “Oh, he’s just like an overgrown toddler always needing to be the center of attention, but he means no harm and he’s got a good heart…”
He may well have a good heart, but that doesn’t make him any less manipulative, selfish and blind to needs and qualities of those around him. Found that out the hard way and I was so surprised that it took me weeks to figure out what had brought out his lying and manipulating and downright nastiness.
I realized that it was the first time in my 50+ years that we hadn’t just handed him the reins and gone along with anything that he wanted to do, which is how all prior interactions and visits with Dad had gone. Yes, we’d be irritated and exhausted by his endless monologues and rapid-fire questions disguised as interest but machine-gunned at us too fast to actually answer, but we’d long since gotten over feeling hurt or angry by his utter lack of interest in his children or their lives. We understood that he is who he is and we could either accept it and do our best to live with it in small doses or cut off interaction with him altogether.
We’ll probably slide back into our standard for coping: hand him the reins and just go along for the long, torturous ride whenever we’re around him. But now and forever, we know that beneath the seemingly benign narcissist hides a truly disturbing malignant narcissist who won’t hesitate to lie directly to our faces, manipulate, and bully to get his way in anything and everything, no matter how seemingly small or insignificant.
I think it’s a lesson I’ll never stop learning — because I still regularly fall prey to narcissists. Not usually for long, but long enough to be mad that I’ve been sucked in again.
Thanks for writing these posts, Michelle — it’s like a life-affirming support group here!
This line jumped out at me: but we’d long since gotten over feeling hurt or angry by his utter lack of interest in his children or their lives.
I realized how very much I have not gotten over feeling hurt by that. The condemnation and the ridicule were bad. The rages, lying, and pouting were intolerable. I don’t think anything hurt more than my father’s indifference toward me. His indifference to my existence.
Oh, I wasn’t ignored. I was far from ignored. Even after I married and moved away, he called nearly every day. He needed that time to run down the list of the ways I sucked. He couldn’t just give up his habit of running me down. He gained something he needed when he mistreated me. But just because he was present in my life, doesn’t mean he was at all interested in my life. The only times he showed any interest in my life was when I had a success of any kind or when I fell on my face.
He loathed when I succeeded. If life handed me a win, he would make sure to tell me why I didn’t deserve it. He would get angry and resentful if he felt I was outshining him in any way.
If I succeeded, there must be retribution. He would usually wait until I was emotionally down. Then, he would find a way to grind me lower.
He wasn’t interested in me. He didn’t care what I loved or needed or feared. He didn’t know me at all. Not because he was clueless, but because he didn’t care. I was there for him to unload his frustration on, my needs, my life, everything that was me, didn’t matter to him.
I can’t think of much that feels worse than feeling like you don’t count. To feel like your very existence is inconsequential is such a sad and lonely feeling.
Traci’s comment said so much more and I related to every word of it…but that thought of feeling like I don’t matter just jumped out at me. Even after all this time of writing about narcissism, I still find unexplored feelings or buried hurt.
I’m not sorry that I had to process this shit. I have come far enough to view these moments as prickly little gifts. These moments are gifts that aren’t fun to open. Sometimes, they sting. Sometimes, they leave me shaken. The real gift happens when I let the moment go.
I am learning there’s always a price. We don’t get passes when it comes to feeling pain or processing past hurt. At least I don’t. What I’ve learned is that running from that pain while screaming “no no no no no” only delays the inevitable. I have to feel that shit and then I can set it free.
So, Traci, thank you for the prickly little gift. It wasn’t easy to open, but once I did, I felt a slight shift and just a little more peace. I’ve learned enough to know that I’m not finished with these feelings yet. I am just now acknowledging them. I have also learned enough to not be afraid of these feelings. They might not be fun, but they are necessary. And I know when I get my head all the way around them, I will be stronger.
I wouldn’t trade these gifts for diamonds or gold.
Oh, and I know this is abruptly shifting gears here, but my next post will be my first sponsored post. So, I will see you all again after this commercial break.
Photo courtesy of Silvia Hartmann
And here I thought my birth family sucked. I cut off all contact with them years ago and would do it again. You can’t choose your birth family so getting out and away shouldn’t be too hard. It wasn’t for me.
It’s really not an issue for me anymore. I love my mother and sisters very much, so I would never choose to cut ties with my family. My dad had a health issue 20 years ago that left him slightly brain damaged, so he’s quiet now. Still toxic, but in a much more benign way.
I don’t miss my mother, sister or step-family at all. I’m much better off without them fucking up my life. It’s good to see that your situation is different. Mine is fine too. Odd how that is.
Honestly, I think that is the best choice for a lot of people. No contact.
I feel like even worse than having to ask “do we count at all” is having to ask “do the grandchildren count at all”? Nothing hurts me more than watching my son try to get my father’s attention and just… nothing. No interest. Just inconvenience. Sure, he’ll hug him and talk to him a little, and say “I love you” a few times a year. But the reality is that my son and his cousins are in no way a priority for my father on any level. When you’re an ACON you can sort of process what’s going on, and make adjustments, but when you’re still little… you totally don’t get it. It just feels like hurt. My heart breaks for the grandchildren.
Oh god..I know. I am lucky in that my dad got ill and he’s brain damaged now, so all the kids understand that and it helps. Your little guy gets lots of love so that is good.
I hear my daughter’s voice in your words. Her father is a narcissist and she is still learning all these hard truths. Bookmarking your blog for sharing with her at the right time.
I am so sorry for you and your daughter. I wish you both peace. I hope she works through this as painlessly as possible.
“I am learning there is always a price… we don’t get a pass from the pain…”
THAT was the prickliest lesson. For me.
I’m lucky (OK, lucky for a narcissist’s kid) as my parents divorced when I was 11. Mom couldn’t take it anymore and packed our miserable asses to Oregon where we started therapy because divorce is hard on good Christian girls and Mom’s lessons were far from over, because divorced, control freak, sociopathological deviants can manipulate from Washington, too.
But the ‘ever-alert’ amygdala stimulation was gone
My first therapy wasn’t even for ME!!!! Doug insisted that since Mom was crazy enough to leave him, she was going to poison us, too, so surely a psychiatrist could make her see his light!
No wonder Nyquil (little circled ‘R’ in case Randy’s reading this 🙂 ) became my drink of choice.
I have worked for years to escape pain. Any pain.
And like any evolved product of narcissism, I have managed to turn the pain into an excusable price to pay for my dignity and a manageable 3-voice brain hum.
I love the ‘prickly gift’ classification! Justifications were what kept us going and now justifications are what we use to accept (Claim??) our new-found peace and liveability factor.
Then I upgrade that justification to the deserved ‘feeling good’ and I comment on blogs and interact with people that know what the fuck I’m talking about.
I am grateful and appreciative because this is a gift from the Universe and it isn’t prickly at all.
And I deserve it because I haven’t killed him yet, and I have had more than one opportunity.
Or, maybe I deserve it because I’ve worked so hard to justify the pain I went through. I might be broken, but I patched up nice and I am functionable.
Do you want us to dress pretty for your ‘sponsored post?’ Like church or court? Narcissist’s (ME) survivors still need that… , “Did I make you proud? Did I do good?” We just know better than to say it outloud…
*whispers*
“You did good.”
I want you to be EXACTLY who you are. This space is ours..even if I occasionally rent it out. 🙂
I only hope I make you feel as beautiful as you make me feel!
I’ll be wearing my sparkly tights, then 🙂
Terri Lee!! Bring your tambourine…we got us a gig!
🙂
Lisa, I DO know what the fuck you are talking about! We should do our rock gigs as the Psychotic Douche Twizzles and have another side gig singing folk and jazz as “Narcissists’ Children”. HAHA!
Michelle never talks about wearing her satin short-shorts with her lace thigh-high stockings and four inch platforms. Wonder why that is? 😀
Because it’s been so long since she wore them, she doesn’t remember how TOTALLY AWESOME she looks in them!
I’ll bet we can even get Randy’s encouragement for this one… I mean, after he feels better.
Maybe get a doctor’s release first.
I’ll bet she’s smokin’ hot 🙂
I AM smoking hot…but it’s from hot flashes
You already know that I had a similar father. Both of my parents are gone now, but when my mom passed, I was the one who helped with his finances and life in general (my mother specifically had asked me to do it because she and my father didn’t trust my sister and her husband). My dad was 80 at the time. Whenever my husband and I would go over to discuss a serious issue, I’d sit next to him and begin. My father would ignore me when I was speaking to him, look right past me as if I didn’t exist and instead, would address whoever happened to have a penis, usually my husband (although I did have that aunt we were never sure about—haha!). That was supposed to “put me in my place”. The funniest thing is, my sister is very much a narcissist, too. She has one persona for private and the bubbly, Psychotic Barbie act she puts on when she has an audience. She and I both have autoimmune conditions. She has Rheumatoid Arthritis and I was diagnosed with Crohn’s. Since Paul’s passing, she has called from time to time to “see how I am doing”, but it usually ends up being a long monologue about how wonderful and amazing she is and the history of her life events. I told her that I was having a hard time sleeping in the wake of Paul’s passing and she actually said to me, “Well, think of how lucky YOU are that you don’t have to get up and go to work every morning, like ME!” I wanted to hang up, but kept my cool and even refrained from telling her that, yes, my husband dying is SO much “luckier” than her having to work. You know, what was I thinking when I complained about lack of sleep? :::sigh::: Someone who doesn’t know what it’s like to deal with these types of people might try to tell me that she didn’t realize what she was saying or that she “meant well”—my new most-hated phrase. But, these types of things are NOT isolated incidents. They didn’t just begin several months ago, they are my lifetime experiences. Her dick of a husband tends to be very much the egotistical sort, too. (Just an aside: my new lawn service cut my yard for the first time yesterday. They did a pretty good job. Haha!) I had cut off ties for over a decade with my sister and her husband. I wanted nothing to do with their entitled attitudes and complete disinterest and disregard for anything going on in my life with my late husband (unless whatever I was doing could be of some benefit to THEM). Funny enough, Paul and I had only reestablished contact with them in late 2014 and we thought things had improved. But, with my latest dealings with them for the past several months, I have come to see that nothing has really changed, not when it comes to truly important life events. They’re better off with shallow, superficial situations.
It amazes me that we are all essentially wounded children walking around disguised was adults. And what disturbs me is that somewhere, right this very moment, there is a child being wounded by yet another messed up adult, just as we were.
I will look forward to your sponsored post! Is it going to look different than a non-sponsored post? Will you post a Glamour Shot of yourself at the top? (Remember those from the 80s? Glamour Shots? HAHA!)
*Lisa K, show us your Glamour Shot!*
Thank you for sharing this…and I also hate the “she means well” phrase. fuck that.
Yeah, the post will look the same. No glamour shots for me! hahaha
*poses with cheesey grin*
Fuck…I MEANT well! (Does this mean I can’t say that in regards to myself? Or does it ONLY apply when trying to figure out if that last ‘bit of advice’ was intended to hurt or offend me when it was offered up by ‘well meaning’ ‘them?’ )
Why is it that the same excuse we offer to others doesn’t apply to us? I get taken wrong ALL the time. Constantly re-iterating what sounded fine in my head, but was misinterpreted on the download.
Weird, this just came up the other day at work.
If I hear one more time, “Well, that’s just how she is… ” when ‘just how she is’ makes me hostile and wanna ‘fix’ how she is…
WHOA OOps…almost let voice number 4 get started.
Whew.
And, yup, there’s another child being ‘taught those lessons well’ right now. I’m as worried and feel as sorry for those innocents as you, Terri Lee. I just hope that as society progresses, we will identify the behavior, like a birth defect, as a treatable and preventable disease, rather than the obscure contributor to various psychoses and physical illnesses that it is. (I can’t believe I didn’t get the red squiggle for plural psychosis!! Yay Me! 🙂
How much of your Crohns do you think your childhood contributed to? I have severe digestive issues as well. My entire ability to eat, process and eliminate food is shot.
Damn right I blame that asshole. Why not.
While I was suppressing my emotions, my body took defensive measures as well!!
Good luck with that.
I’m with you on the Bitch Sister Saga. Haven’t spoken to mine, either, in years. Funny how each of our siblings emerged with different roles and adaptations. I’m glad I went the way I did.
Eventually, we will have to face the destruction we’ve caused or the joy we’ve shared.
I LIKE being able to look in the mirror and say, “I meant well.”
The way it was intended.
*pats hair*
*pushes up boobs*
Photobomb me, Terri Lee and Michelle!!
*pushes selfie stick waaayyy out*
*holding bunny fingers behind Michelle’s head as I smile for the camera*
“I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille!” *eyes WIDE open a la Carol Burnett* HAHA!
Lisa, I know for sure that my anxiety disorder (I developed that as a 15 year old and no one knew what was wrong with me) was a result of what i had experienced growing up. Most likely, chronic stress from hat throughout my life okayed a role in my autoimmune situation. Weirdly enough, the Crohn’s was not diagnosed until after I was officially in menopause, every joint in my body was giving me excruciating pain and stiffness and my weight plummeted to 86.5 pounds. That was back in 2013. I had always heard of that condition being discovered in younger people. My doctor assured me that many people are diagnosed later in life, too. Oh, goodie. But, even my anxiety always got me straight in the gut (well, with tachycardia and trembling thrown in for good measure), so you may be onto something there, Madame Curie! (And you didn’t get the red squiggle from Spell Check because apparently they know how to spell the plural of psychosis as well as you do! Wait, let me check something—diagnoses. Okay, yep, they know how to spell. Haha!)
I know that you “meant well”. Haha!! No harm, no foul. My biggest issue is with people who otherwise walk around telling everyone who will listen how wise and worldly they are and yet give “advice” that comes out as callous and even downright cruel. Most of the time, they aren’t thinking of YOU, they are listening to themselves talk. I’m sure they’re quite impressed, too. 🙂
Get out the selfie stick again! *sticking out tongue and cocking head to the side to look goofy* Haha! OMG, we’re partying in Michelle’s living room again! We must be a pain in her arse. All right! “Arse” got the squiggly red line!
me casa su casa
I love coming home from work to these smiles 🙂
*pins pictures up on wall over computer*
Right next to Michelle’s Bloggess signing night! (That’s still one of the HAPPIEST pictures I have ever seen!)
Haha on the ‘meant well’ 🙂 I was comparing how it used to be a nice way to explain to your kids why they got an ugly sweater for Christmas from Aunt Betty.
Or why I got drunk at my 5 year olds’ birthday party…. in public… at the swimming pool.
I’m just tired of everybody (Oh dramatic me… ) OK… ‘so many’ people getting away with being soul vampires because we are so quick to WANT to believe that they are just having a bad day.
When do we get to have OUR bad day?
How come your sister gets to have her ‘bad day’ when, as a HUMAN BEING your day (current life situation) was deserving of some sympathy and encouragement?
Why do the narcissists in our lives treat the people on the street better than they do us?
My stomach issues started when I was around 11, but the migraines started when I was 6 or 7.
The sicker I got, the more Doug said it was ‘in my head.’ (Didn’t help that that was what the doctor was telling him. To be fair, he also said it might be gas 😉 )
I absolutely believe that our ‘anxiety’ and ‘nervous stomachs’ and ‘stress headaches’ are the result of our emotions and psyches being in constant turmoil at an age when all those neurological connections were being made.
Lab monkeys for Prozac would probably agree.
But I also believe in resiliency.
*looks around Michelle’s living room at ALL the people talking and being comfortable*
Everybody here has been drawn to this forum because Michelle’s an awesome writer, but we stay for the resounding: Somebody here gets me.
*adoring look at Terri Lee*
*grateful look at Michelle*
Rubber Shoes in Hell describes this tribe perfectly. We are surrounded by flames, but our shoes will hold out if we keep ’em moving.
Terri Lee? For our performance as the ‘Narcissists’ Children’ we HAVE to do the ‘Classical Gas’ and ‘Greensleeves’ with extra tambourine!!
*snaps another good one of Terri Lee and Michelle smiling with the rest of the Tribe partying in Michelle’s living room*
*waves at Randy going into the kitchen for a cookie*
I drank Maalox as a bedtime snack when I was a little kid. My stomach has hurt since I was 8 years old.
Yes!! Maalox and the big red pill!! On the floor of my closet. With my electric blanket and a flashlight….
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
We could have been walkie-talkie buddies…
Prickly gifts. No one bestows them quite like family. Hats off to you for letting them go–and so eloquently sharing what you’ve learned.
Thank you! I still have a lot of work to do, but it gets easier all the time.
While my parents were fairly normal, my first two kids mother was a narcissist and I can relate to just about everything you talk about. If the world wasn’t spinning around her, shit would fly until it did. After we divorced, my daughter had to get up at 4:30 AM to fix her mothers hair and makeup and fix her breakfast. After she got her off to work, she could then go back to bed for a couple of hours before she had to get up and go to school. This went on until she started college. How she ever got past that, I will never know. It took me about 10 years to let go of all of the hateful shit she did to me, and I could divorce her. We have talked about her mom at length and she’s over most of it, but I can still see a lot of her mom’s traits in her.
Strangely to me, my son got over it and is very close to her. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen him but twice in the last 15 years.
Man..it’s just so ugly. I am glad your daughter is working through her issues and I’m sorry your relationship with your son is not good. If you live with a narcissist, I just don’t know that it’s possible to come away unscathed. All we can do is work toward a peaceful existence. At least that is what I am trying to do.
Michelle is soooo right, John.
Wow… Your perspective is very intriguing to me. My Mom’s viewpoint is that my sister (s) have chosen to ignore? excuse? let it ride? so they can have a relationship with ‘him.’
At any rate, as your son’s life experiences change, so will his ‘take’ on his relationship with his Mom. This has been my experience, with my sister (singular) and my oldest son with his Dad … and his Grandfather, too, now that I think about it.
I am getting them both back…slowly but surely.
(Bummer about the other sister… but, I am only so strong… and forgiving is hard, y’all!)
Stay strong, John it’s worth it 🙂
Yes — “prickly little gifts!” What a perfect descriptor.
There have been some horrible people in my life and for a long time after ridding myself of them (or, in Dad’s case, distancing myself) I can’t help but look back with bitterness. But then comes the realization of everything I learned from them, of how they helped shape me — for better or worse — and that realization helps me let go a little.
I won’t say the bitterness doesn’t still rise, because it does.
Mostly when I get depressed at not achieving my full potential, and I try to coach myself out of it by trying to focus on what it is that I’d truly like to do with my life — and then I remember, oh yeah, that’s part of the problem — no dreams. None at all. The nihilism overtakes me, and the bitterness rises, and the thought: you did this to me.
I hate that thought. Because all the therapy and the self work brought me to a place where I’ve accepted the fact that I have to take responsibility for my life choices…and left me there.
Okay, universe, responsibility accepted. Now, wouldja send me a lightening bolt or two, or even a prickly little gift, to teach me how to dream again?
Oh trust me..I have spent years being resentful over being “Made” into who I am. But ultimately, I am who I am..I can hate myself or love myself. It’s an easy choice. Not always easy to DO, but love is better. My issue is being plagued with near constant anxiety. It’s been very bad for months now..but last night, I felt peaceful…I told Randy, OMG..I am content right now. I want to hold on to this..and then got anxious because I knew it would pass. Haha. It’s a fucking journey..but sometimes the journey is a good one. xo
Oh man I am blown away by this site and the kindred here. I relate to nearly every single word ya’ll have written. I’ve spent way too many years hating myself because of all my ‘flaws’….apparently I’m so fucked up that my own mother didn’t like/love/want me…surely it was my fault. I went through 3 marriages, held an awesome job, raised three very excellent kids somehow, got myself addicted to pain meds and had to dry out in rehab (pain meds don’t really heal emotional pain I found out-but it did cover it up for a little while)- all the while tap dancing as fast as I could to try and be acceptable in her eyes. She had no interest in me as a kid or now as an adult, she has no interest in my kids- which hurts me even more than her rejection of me. Her second husband was a pedophile- I wont fill in those blanks but I was 7 years old when she married him so…..yea.
But even HE was at least interested in me in his own sick way…is it any wonder I have a really flawed definition of what love looks like…but I digress….
I tried suicide, Jesus, drugs, sex, anything and everything to either A. be acceptable to her or B. stop the pain and well you all know, neither happened. SO here I am now, 50+ years old- still hating myself but not quite so much, still pissed off at the shitty hand I was dealt, but not angry at myself anymore. Trying to make her love me almost destroyed me. The only good thing that narcissistic monster did for me was to show me what kind of a MOTHER I did not want to be.
She is still alive- living far away- no contact in years and that’s fine with me. I tried for along long long time to heal our relationship, to talk to her, to understand her yada yada yada but always came away hurt/sad/disappointed.
I ‘get through’ my days now -still angry (incase that wasn’t obvious- haha) – still sad (I could have been SOMEBODY man if I’d had a mother that at least faked love a little)- still watching out for any signs that I am ‘like her’ (my biggest fear) but mostly I just ‘get through’ . I try to laugh, I try to be content (long since gave up on being happy), I try to be a good mom and grandmother and wife.
Life sucks sometimes kindred – but at least we are NOT them.
Thanks for letting me rant with my assorted blatherings…it helps to know I am understood.
I feel you. I spent a long time looking for approval and acceptance that just was NEVER going to come. I have been shedding the anger and I’ve been angry for years (it still pops up). I hope that you can continue to find ways to accept yourself and even love yourself. When you love yourself, you will DEFEND yourself. We won’t defend what we don’t love.
You are definitely understood. I am so glad you are here!
Thank you so much for your posts, Michelle. Each time I read a post such as this one (or something by Brene Brown) I have to take some time to work through the “prickly little gifts”. It is easier with my father since I have ended all communication with him, but I am still in contact with my mother and each time we speak I have to sort through what is real and healthy for me to take in and what to let go. I still feel the pain in this since I spent so much time trying to build a loving relationship with her. But as they say, the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. And indifference in this case is still wanting to be involved to control and critique but not caring beyond how I project as an extension of them. Each time I read inspiring and connecting words, my world shifts a bit and I learn a bit more that I am worthy of being loved. I’m on my third marriage and this time I made a good choice and I am learning to accept his love as true and given with no strings attached. We have built a strong (but small) family unit with my two children where I have tried my best to cut the chain of abuse. I am so thankful for prickly gifts and the sliver of light that comes after the pain.
I am so glad you are here! I am also sorry that you had to live with that, but we can’t do anything to change that, so I will just say that you are not alone. I hope you find peace. I am glad you are in a good relationship. I am in my third marriage as well (21 years) and I am grateful for the life I have now. Peace to you, my friend.
I have confidence that you have the inner strength and humanity to work through this until, as my new favorite band, The Joy Formidable, says “A calm day will come.”
I had a calm night last night. For around 90 minutes. It felt so goddamn good. I want more.
I was just having a really down day but I think this post actually helps in a weird way, even though it’s peeling off another scab.
‘If life handed me a win, he would make sure to tell me why I didn’t deserve it.’ Hmm, that one is scarily familiar, though I still don’t think my father was the worst kind, he did used to run down any achievement as if it was nothing, he was not alone in that though as my mother had her own way of pouring cold water on anything I was even vaguely excited or enthusiastic about.
However, my ex husband was the most toxic, wholly abusive and destructive person in my life. I do realise that my upbringing led me to be in that relationship but I feel no malice toward my parents. My grandparents on both sides came from a very different world and their own bizarre upbringing made them into the people they are.
I just hope that I have broken the cycle, I have no children so at least I can’t inflict any damage on another generation.
As to this –
‘I can’t think of much that feels worse than feeling like you don’t count. To feel like your very existence is inconsequential is such a sad and lonely feeling.’
That’s me, every single day. I guess I have to matter to myself first and after four and a half years alone I still haven’t managed to get a handle on that yet.
Ah well, today is not a good day but tomorrow I hope will be better.
I hope tomorrow is better, too. I am SO PULLING for you. You deserve nothing but peace and happiness, my sister. XOXOXOXOX
It just dawned on me that my mother is a narcissist. How so very strange. I’ve always had a troubled relationship with her in the same way you describe your dad, but I never had a tittle for this. I would just get really upset not understanding why your own mother would feel the need to constantly put you down…
Seriously, such a revelation
Good luck. That revelation for me was necessary, but kind of difficult. It took a while to work through. I am sending you all my good thoughts.
Like freaking today, she called my in the morning and told to take public transportation to work because it’s raining and my driving skills are poor.
Seriously, I’ve been driving for the past two years and not a single accident. Ok maybe one, but still
Sometimes it’s hard to believe but believe we must that YES you (we) do count VERY much !!
Oh fuck yes, we do!
I just got laid off and can still hear my narcissist mother’s voice cackling in my head at my misfortune. I stopped talking to her 7 years ago. She took credit for My successes and rejoiced in My failures.
That sucks so hard. I hope you bounce back quickly, sister.
First, and I say this with all respect, your dad can go fuck himself. What kind of shitty parent makes their child feel like they are a failure? This is not rhetorical, because I actually have an answer. A parent who makes their child feel rotten is a shitty parenting failure that deserves zero allegiance, love, or sentimentality.
Second, something YOU said stood out and spoke to ME: “I’m not sorry that I had to process this shit. I have come far enough to view these moments as prickly little gifts. These moments are gifts that aren’t fun to open. Sometimes, they sting. Sometimes, they leave me shaken. The real gift happens when I let the moment go.”
That right there put into words what I haven’t quite been able to describe to my husband about my therapy sessions with my psychiatrist for my severe depression. Every time I go, I return home in tears and can barely function the rest of the day, because I have just, as you so elegantly articulated, opened a prickly gift (some more large than little.) And those gifts suck to open. And sometimes you have to hold them and turn them over and over in your hands and ask, “Exactly what is this?” before you can let it go.
So, third, I guess, if we’re still counting, bravo on a brilliant piece. And thank you for touching a piece of me. (I shouldn’t have to clarify here, but I will. Thank you for touching a piece of my soul or spirit or wherever my feelings reside. Obviously you didn’t touch ME. That’d be weird, because I hardly know you. Although, that’s never stopped me before. You know what? Just ignore this whole last aside.)
Keep up the thoughtful, analytical work. It’s why I pay my Internet bill.
Oh man, this means so much to me. I know exactly what you mean. I remember driving home from a session once and just sobbing. But I wasn’t sorry I was sobbing. I have avoided it my whole life. I mean, not that I never sobbed, sometimes it can’t be helped, but mostly, I bottled that shit up or ignored it. Sooner or later, you have to deal with it
Wow. First off, this is my first response to your blog, which I love BTW…Secondly, does this stuff ever make my skin crawl. My mother was a first class narcissist. Only to be outdone and beaten down (both figuratively and literally) by my older sister who ended up far outshining her in the narcissism department. My mother drove my father to drink. My older sister drove them both to drink. After my parents both died, no not at the same time and only one by drinking, I found it necessary to cut off all ties with my sister. I had to do it for my sanity’s sake. I could be hit by a bus and be on my deathbed and some how my sister would still come out being the victim of the bus driver and convince the doctors to disconnect my life support. She feeds off that shit. I’m glad you’ve figured out a way to deal with your remaining family without being the victim anymore. But I couldn’t. While I would love to be able to visit my sister, she’s my only remaining family, at the holidays, etc., I know I’d never survive being around someone as toxic as she is. So thank you for your blog and also to the others who reply to it. You’ve all been most helpful and enlightening at the same time.
Hi! I am so glad you are here! You know, no contact is often the healthiest and best course of action. You can’t change them, so you have to protect yourself. Peace to you!
I decided at 18 to cut him out of my life, my dad. He and my mom were getting a divorce and he had made statements to the effect that “We were not the family that he had really wanted.” I chose right then to cut him out. I couldn’t bear another day of his tear downs and selfishness. Those of you who continue to be in relationships with narcissistic parents are brave for trying. I often feel like a coward for taking the route I have, but honestly, it also feels like the most empowering moment of my life. The chance to say, NO, I don’t deserve to have someone not show me love and still be a part of my life. I’m sure my dad loved me, in the way he knew how, but it wasn’t the way I needed then, nor now 17 years later.
Honestly, I see that move as the opposite of cowardly. It takes a lot of strength to cut close family out of your life. And sometimes, that is the best decision you can make.
xox
Because I have nothing else
That’s enough. 🙂 Thank you. xo
Well done sister, well done!
XOXOXOX
yep, so it sometimes takes me awhile to respond to the icky posts, M. This was a prickly little bugger, because I was married to a “benign narcissist” and I remember one of our kids once telling me she sort of felt sorry for him. My feelings include a queasy mix of wanting him to meet an early demise and also finally getting therapy. I’m leaning toward the early demise. Fuck that. But what really bothers me when I read this stuff is that I worry about my kids. What a shitty deal they got. (Like you and so many others.) And I can’t fix it. When they were young their father did give them a lot of attention and spent a lot of time with them, but then over the years as other areas of his life became more “spoiled” because, well, damnit the Universe wasn’t handing him what he was sure he deserved, he more or less drifted away, consumed by this injustice, leaving the kids with rare and brief interactions which centered on his usual all-about-me monologues. It’s like he just became bored with them. He used to know their friends and teachers and got involved with their activities, etc. Now I see how all those interactions were tainted with a “look at me! what a great dad I’m being!” motive because he wanted to be known in the community. When he moved away from us to work in another state and we rarely saw him, he still thought we’d all think he was a terrific person cuz he’d put in the time. A terrific person despite turning his back on his family because he was busy with his career (which was in the toilet, btw, & still is). So he built up these kids for a few years, then let them know he had more important shit to deal with. Suddenly he didn’t have the time or energy for them. And the kids were old enough to understand that there really wasn’t anything super-important or crucial going on in his life, because it wasn’t a good career move and he was “let go” (wasn’t the first time) but didn’t return. So there was no reason. He’s also let the older ones know that their opinions of him have been negatively influenced by me, which they find terribly insulting, because they feel he refuses to acknowledge that they have their own feelings, that they are mature enough to express how they’ve been impacted. My daughter also expressed how she felt that the dad she’d known in her youth was dead. How fkn sad is that? I’ve been aware that the kids have been dealing with this weird grief. A living, on-going grief, you know? My youngest is the least affected, as she had him in her life for only about 8 years, and while she had some good experiences with him, he was already obviously distracted and self-absorbed. She never knew the “early dad” the one her older sibs remember. She has less to grieve, and I’m relieved about that. They’ve each decided (for themselves!) to deny him contact. Sucks, huh?
It does suck..damn. It really REALLY sounds like your kids have a good handle on it. I wish so bad we could protect our children from shit like this, but we can’t..all we can do is hold their hand while they navigate.
My dad died last march, giving me his ass to kiss by putting my half-sister in charge of his affairs. I am his daughter from his second marriage to a narcissist and have a younger sister and her daughter as my family. His other daughter hatred towards my family my dad knew and did mother to protect my younger sister, my mom nor my niece. He died wanting to control and treat his family badly and did not care of the results. I am fighting for my families financial future for the past year and it is hard because I feel my family does not care what i am going through just hurry up and get it done for them to continue making a mess of things. I help out so I do not have to be financially responsible so it is a catch 22 situation for me. But I have took massive hits for them including being hit with two lawsuits one from my older sister the other from my fathers deadbeat tenant. You wrote on another blog about they being lucky that had me and this mess I am in now I see that they are very lucky to have me, because most people would have bounced from this shit. But the idea of what could have happened to them if I did not get involved hurts more than anything I have been thrown at. I went through such depths of emotions and feelings this past year, but it has helped to really like and admire me and my character. I am so not perfect, but I am compassionate and helpful and those are two traits that were not expressed to shown to me growing up so I must be a very cool person to have them regardless of my parents and my extended families misbelieves of me.
Thank you for allowing me to express this.
Oh wow..the destruction they fucking leave…it just leaves you breathless. Thank you for sharing this.