The family reunion happened a couple weeks ago. All I've heard is what a nice time everyone had. Interestingly, my mother decided to start sending me chatty emails afterward. I assume that she got enough narcissistic supply during the weekend to either make her want to gloat about what fun they had or pretend that all was well.
Since I told people we wouldn't be at the family reunion because we are off havng an RV adventure, I assume my mother also stuck to that story, but with her own embellishments.
It feels weird to not really know what is happening with my family, but it also feels good. I used to say that my ideal vacation would just be a day when no one wanted anything from me. I used to spend a fair amount of time either listening to my mother's problems, trying to fix them or trying to do stuff to make her happy. Same with my son. I don't miss any of that.
Apparently they are able to manage without me. What is it about me that felt compelled to do all this for them, like they needed it?
One of the things I keep reading about is how a narcissistc mother parentifies their child and that was certainly the case with me. I have felt responsible for her emotional happiness for as long as I can remember. If she said she was bored, I tried to entertain her. If she was sad, I was sad. If there was someone she didn't like, I didn't like them either (or else I felt guilty if I did like them).
With a baby, it's fun to make them laugh because their laughter is so joyful. With a narcissistc mother you just try to do anything to avoid their censure.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
What Will People Think?
This thought bothers me a bit, but as time goes on, I care less.
The family reunion is coming up. We won't be going. I'm sure that my son and my mother will spend a great deal of time trashing me to anyone who will listen and that makes me angry.
What I can't help but wonder about is, will anyone stand up for me? Will anyone say "gee, I've known your mother her whole life and that sure doesn't sound like something she'd do."
I assume none of the rest of the family, including my brother, know what happened. Certainly none of them know my side of the story.
I actually do care about a couple of my relatives and I've been tempted to email them and just say "you're going to hear some stuff about me. I hope you'll think about who I am and how I've acted my whole life before you decide if it's true or not" but then I decided that I don't want to engage with any of them over any of it. Is that cowardly? I hope not. Mostly, I just don't want to give any more energy to this issue.
But still, it would be nice to think that at least one person might say a tiny peep in support of me. But I'm not holding my breath.
The family reunion is coming up. We won't be going. I'm sure that my son and my mother will spend a great deal of time trashing me to anyone who will listen and that makes me angry.
What I can't help but wonder about is, will anyone stand up for me? Will anyone say "gee, I've known your mother her whole life and that sure doesn't sound like something she'd do."
I assume none of the rest of the family, including my brother, know what happened. Certainly none of them know my side of the story.
I actually do care about a couple of my relatives and I've been tempted to email them and just say "you're going to hear some stuff about me. I hope you'll think about who I am and how I've acted my whole life before you decide if it's true or not" but then I decided that I don't want to engage with any of them over any of it. Is that cowardly? I hope not. Mostly, I just don't want to give any more energy to this issue.
But still, it would be nice to think that at least one person might say a tiny peep in support of me. But I'm not holding my breath.
Friday, August 15, 2014
The Flying Monkeys
It's been over a month since we left my parents' house. I've had a couple of email messages from my mother asking about the cell phone stuff. I've responded but not been chatty.
Last Sunday my father called twice, saying that he just wondered how we were doing. In the second message he said he thought about me all the time and he sounded sort of sad. That really got me and I felt terribly guilty and sad for him.
Fortunately I was working so I couldn't call. Besides, I have no desire to have a conversation w/any member of my family. I don't want to be subjected to their questions and I don't want to pretend that all is fine.
But, I felt bad about my dad. I emailed my mother and said that cell service was bad where we were but to tell Dad I'd be in touch and that I didn't want him to worry. She wrote back that not only does he worry, but he cries.
That hooked me too. But I resisted.
I hate the idea of looking like a mean daughter who doesn't care that her father misses her. In fact, I do care, but for once in my life I care more about myself and my own sanity.
I wrote my dad a letter letting him know we were fine and promising to keep in touch more.
Then my brother called. He never calls. I didn't answer his call either. He left a v/m saying he heard I was in New Mexico and wondered how I was. I sent him an email the next day saying the phone service is sketchy (not true, but makes life easier for me) and that email is the best way to stay in touch. He wrote back w/a very short note and said "When you get in cell range, please call Dad, he'd love to hear from you."
This time is made me mad. Let me explain that for the last ten years or more, I have attended dozens of surgeries, out-patient procedures and doctors appointments with my parents. I've taken them on weekend trips, shopping and fixed their computers and cell phones. My brother visits about one weekend per year and can barely stand to do that, so the idea that he was admonishing me to call our dad really pissed me off.
Then I remembered...The Flying Monkeys. This is a term used for the people the narcissist uses to do their dirty work, just like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz. My father and my brother are both flying monkeys for my mother. I'm sure my dad was sincere in his concern for me, but it's not like I'm sixteen and I ran away from home. What does he think---that I've been kidnapped and held against my will?
Then I realized that he wants to hear from me because to him, that's a sign that I'm not mad. Remember, he's an enabling father who hates conflict, hates the idea that I might be mad at him or that I might let loose on my narcissist mom and cause turmoil at their house. So, if he's crying, it's probably 10% because he's concerned for me, 40% that he misses my husband and I because we were good company, and 50% that he wants to continue the illusion that we're a happy family.
Maybe we are a happy family. I'm 1500 miles away and I'm happy.
Last Sunday my father called twice, saying that he just wondered how we were doing. In the second message he said he thought about me all the time and he sounded sort of sad. That really got me and I felt terribly guilty and sad for him.
Fortunately I was working so I couldn't call. Besides, I have no desire to have a conversation w/any member of my family. I don't want to be subjected to their questions and I don't want to pretend that all is fine.
But, I felt bad about my dad. I emailed my mother and said that cell service was bad where we were but to tell Dad I'd be in touch and that I didn't want him to worry. She wrote back that not only does he worry, but he cries.
That hooked me too. But I resisted.
I hate the idea of looking like a mean daughter who doesn't care that her father misses her. In fact, I do care, but for once in my life I care more about myself and my own sanity.
I wrote my dad a letter letting him know we were fine and promising to keep in touch more.
Then my brother called. He never calls. I didn't answer his call either. He left a v/m saying he heard I was in New Mexico and wondered how I was. I sent him an email the next day saying the phone service is sketchy (not true, but makes life easier for me) and that email is the best way to stay in touch. He wrote back w/a very short note and said "When you get in cell range, please call Dad, he'd love to hear from you."
This time is made me mad. Let me explain that for the last ten years or more, I have attended dozens of surgeries, out-patient procedures and doctors appointments with my parents. I've taken them on weekend trips, shopping and fixed their computers and cell phones. My brother visits about one weekend per year and can barely stand to do that, so the idea that he was admonishing me to call our dad really pissed me off.
Then I remembered...The Flying Monkeys. This is a term used for the people the narcissist uses to do their dirty work, just like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz. My father and my brother are both flying monkeys for my mother. I'm sure my dad was sincere in his concern for me, but it's not like I'm sixteen and I ran away from home. What does he think---that I've been kidnapped and held against my will?
Then I realized that he wants to hear from me because to him, that's a sign that I'm not mad. Remember, he's an enabling father who hates conflict, hates the idea that I might be mad at him or that I might let loose on my narcissist mom and cause turmoil at their house. So, if he's crying, it's probably 10% because he's concerned for me, 40% that he misses my husband and I because we were good company, and 50% that he wants to continue the illusion that we're a happy family.
Maybe we are a happy family. I'm 1500 miles away and I'm happy.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Going Low or No Contact With My Narcissistic Mother (And Enabling Father)
In my last post I described how my parents think my husband and I are price gouging my son on the sale of our house to him. They also plan to give him a large amount of money "to keep his mortgage payments low". As it was, the mortgage would have been less than $500 per month, which he can well afford.
I've been reading a great deal about narcissistic mothers over the last couple weeks. In addition, my husband and I have left their house and moved over 1,000 miles away. After a week, my mother sent an email asking how we are doing and where we are (we are in a RV). I wrote back telling her where we were headed. She responded by asking where my husband had taken her dry cleaning.
What?
Not even a "that's nice"? "Why are you going there?"
I wrote back and told her where her precious dry cleaning was and she said thanks. I deleted that message and don't plan to send any others any time soon, though I do have a couple of financial dealings to take care of with her.
It's funny that I want to go no contact, but I also don't have the courage to say to them (N mom and Enabling Father) that I don't want to have any contact with them. And there's still the fact that there are some financial issues and some of our possessions are at their house.
The dry cleaning thing really threw me for a loop. Why would that be her response? But then I realized that since the whole world revolves around her, the only issue that my absence brings is that she needs someone to pick up her dry cleaning. (Of course, my husband made sure to pick it up before we left just so she couldn't bitch about it. That was probably a pointless exercise since she'll always find something to bitch about.)
What freaks me out is how scared I am of her. How I check my email waiting for her to rant about something.
Then I have to ask myself why I would care about that? Well, for one thing, it would hurt for her to rant at me. But she's also a horrible person. The worst. I believe that now, though it's still hard to get my head around 100%.
How long can I go w/o contacting them before they contact me. Do I have to respond? What is it that I'm hoping they will say?
When my husband and I left, we told them we were heading to a friend's house. My dad got choked up when we said good-bye. I think he knew we weren't coming back. It made me sad and still does when I think about it. And then I think about the horrible things he said the house sale to my son.
And, was he sad I was leaving or sad that now he's alone w/my N mom.
While we were there, they got along better. I assume we were the common enemy. Part of me wants to know what is going on now and part of me doesn't care. Or at least doesn't want to care.
This is a rambling post. Sorry. I'm just trying to wrap my head around all that has happened in the last two weeks.
I've been reading a great deal about narcissistic mothers over the last couple weeks. In addition, my husband and I have left their house and moved over 1,000 miles away. After a week, my mother sent an email asking how we are doing and where we are (we are in a RV). I wrote back telling her where we were headed. She responded by asking where my husband had taken her dry cleaning.
What?
Not even a "that's nice"? "Why are you going there?"
I wrote back and told her where her precious dry cleaning was and she said thanks. I deleted that message and don't plan to send any others any time soon, though I do have a couple of financial dealings to take care of with her.
It's funny that I want to go no contact, but I also don't have the courage to say to them (N mom and Enabling Father) that I don't want to have any contact with them. And there's still the fact that there are some financial issues and some of our possessions are at their house.
The dry cleaning thing really threw me for a loop. Why would that be her response? But then I realized that since the whole world revolves around her, the only issue that my absence brings is that she needs someone to pick up her dry cleaning. (Of course, my husband made sure to pick it up before we left just so she couldn't bitch about it. That was probably a pointless exercise since she'll always find something to bitch about.)
What freaks me out is how scared I am of her. How I check my email waiting for her to rant about something.
Then I have to ask myself why I would care about that? Well, for one thing, it would hurt for her to rant at me. But she's also a horrible person. The worst. I believe that now, though it's still hard to get my head around 100%.
How long can I go w/o contacting them before they contact me. Do I have to respond? What is it that I'm hoping they will say?
When my husband and I left, we told them we were heading to a friend's house. My dad got choked up when we said good-bye. I think he knew we weren't coming back. It made me sad and still does when I think about it. And then I think about the horrible things he said the house sale to my son.
And, was he sad I was leaving or sad that now he's alone w/my N mom.
While we were there, they got along better. I assume we were the common enemy. Part of me wants to know what is going on now and part of me doesn't care. Or at least doesn't want to care.
This is a rambling post. Sorry. I'm just trying to wrap my head around all that has happened in the last two weeks.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Narcissists Have To Be The Stars Of Everything
So, I had a perfectly nice plan in place to sell my son my house at what I thought was a fair and even low, price. Which included about $3,000 or more in appliances, furniture and other things. Probably more than $3,000, but why quibble.
I thought I was being generous and worked hard to have the house clean when we left and even left some treats in the freezer.
In yesterday's post, I talked about how my parents said the price was too much. Mind you, this is three months after my husband and I moved out of our house, did improvements to my parents' house and let my son and his girlfriend move in and not pay rent. [Now that I read it, I can see I was a fool.]
So while my parents were diminishing my good news with their spewy goo about how I was trying to cheat my son, they said, again with a sanctimonious smile, that "to keep peace in the family" they were going to take out a second mortgage on their home and give my son half the price of the house as a gift.
My son, as far as I know, never told them he needed money for the house and their arguments about how they were going to "bail him out" made no sense. He didn't need to be bailed out. He needed to man up, but more on that later.
As you might imagine, my husband and I were stunned by their statements and accusations. Engraged might be more like it, but I'm proud to report that we just said "mmm. yummy. give me another sh*t sandwich".
All day I was devastated. Did my parents really think I was such a horrible person? Had they thought this all along?
Were they right? (I was 99.9% sure they weren't, but I've had years of conditioning, remember).
Then I did some reading and read about how narcissists must be the most important person in the room and had a big AHA moment.
My son and I made this deal without invovling them. My son, their only grandchild and the 8th wonder of the world had not sought their advice or money.
So they created a big problem (realized that my father was the one who had fed my son some of the garbage he'd spewed a few days earlier) and then swooped in to fix it. Where there was no drama, they generated some so they could be the heros.
It's impressive in it's perveristy.
Now, I am the bad guy who tried to screw over her son (by the way, their opinion on this is based on zero information or knowledge about anything related to the house or home values, but why bother with information when you are right about everything), moved in with them to be a freeloader, and then probably used too much toilet paper or something else to add to my sins.
Oh, how would any of us survive without them to meddle in our lives?
The good news is that with this information, I am able to see exactly what they were doing. It sort of helps to think that they might not really believe I'm gouging my son, but I still think they do.
I thought I was being generous and worked hard to have the house clean when we left and even left some treats in the freezer.
In yesterday's post, I talked about how my parents said the price was too much. Mind you, this is three months after my husband and I moved out of our house, did improvements to my parents' house and let my son and his girlfriend move in and not pay rent. [Now that I read it, I can see I was a fool.]
So while my parents were diminishing my good news with their spewy goo about how I was trying to cheat my son, they said, again with a sanctimonious smile, that "to keep peace in the family" they were going to take out a second mortgage on their home and give my son half the price of the house as a gift.
My son, as far as I know, never told them he needed money for the house and their arguments about how they were going to "bail him out" made no sense. He didn't need to be bailed out. He needed to man up, but more on that later.
As you might imagine, my husband and I were stunned by their statements and accusations. Engraged might be more like it, but I'm proud to report that we just said "mmm. yummy. give me another sh*t sandwich".
All day I was devastated. Did my parents really think I was such a horrible person? Had they thought this all along?
Were they right? (I was 99.9% sure they weren't, but I've had years of conditioning, remember).
Then I did some reading and read about how narcissists must be the most important person in the room and had a big AHA moment.
My son and I made this deal without invovling them. My son, their only grandchild and the 8th wonder of the world had not sought their advice or money.
So they created a big problem (realized that my father was the one who had fed my son some of the garbage he'd spewed a few days earlier) and then swooped in to fix it. Where there was no drama, they generated some so they could be the heros.
It's impressive in it's perveristy.
Now, I am the bad guy who tried to screw over her son (by the way, their opinion on this is based on zero information or knowledge about anything related to the house or home values, but why bother with information when you are right about everything), moved in with them to be a freeloader, and then probably used too much toilet paper or something else to add to my sins.
Oh, how would any of us survive without them to meddle in our lives?
The good news is that with this information, I am able to see exactly what they were doing. It sort of helps to think that they might not really believe I'm gouging my son, but I still think they do.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Narcissists Spoil Your Special Days
Yesterday I told my parents that my husband and I are going to be able to fulfill a long time dream of ours. You'd think they'd be happy for us. They said they were.
And then they said that I'm price gouging my son on the sale of my house to him. Followed by how I overpaid for the house and lots of other charming comments.
Amazingly, I just kept my cool and listened. I did defend a little bit but realized it was pointless and stopped.
My husband, wisely, left the room.
They said these things, my parents mind you, while smiling and as though they were commenting on the weather rather than their daughter's character.
It was the most freaky thing I've seen in a long time, though I suspect there will be more before this ordeal is over.
So...what was supposed to be an announcement that should have been greeted with excitement for us was turned into a bash session where they annhilated my character.
Wow.
I'm so glad that I read about narcissists and learned so much, though I'm still learning, before this happened and I was able to put it into perspective.
No, I didn't just laugh all day long at their silliness. For most of the day I felt nauseaus.
But I'm doing better now. I'm glad I didn't vent my spleet at them because it would have done no good and it would have provided the drama and narcissistic supply my mother wanted.
In fact, a short time afterward, when I continued my day as planned she became very chatty. Asked me questions about our plans. Asked if I might like to use some of her eye salve since I spend so much time on the computer...seriously, how deep did she have to dig to find that as a topic of conversation?
But, I think she was disappointed that I didn't create drama or react to their crappy statements and behavior.
So maybe being calm is the best revenge.
And then they said that I'm price gouging my son on the sale of my house to him. Followed by how I overpaid for the house and lots of other charming comments.
Amazingly, I just kept my cool and listened. I did defend a little bit but realized it was pointless and stopped.
My husband, wisely, left the room.
They said these things, my parents mind you, while smiling and as though they were commenting on the weather rather than their daughter's character.
It was the most freaky thing I've seen in a long time, though I suspect there will be more before this ordeal is over.
So...what was supposed to be an announcement that should have been greeted with excitement for us was turned into a bash session where they annhilated my character.
Wow.
I'm so glad that I read about narcissists and learned so much, though I'm still learning, before this happened and I was able to put it into perspective.
No, I didn't just laugh all day long at their silliness. For most of the day I felt nauseaus.
But I'm doing better now. I'm glad I didn't vent my spleet at them because it would have done no good and it would have provided the drama and narcissistic supply my mother wanted.
In fact, a short time afterward, when I continued my day as planned she became very chatty. Asked me questions about our plans. Asked if I might like to use some of her eye salve since I spend so much time on the computer...seriously, how deep did she have to dig to find that as a topic of conversation?
But, I think she was disappointed that I didn't create drama or react to their crappy statements and behavior.
So maybe being calm is the best revenge.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
I Know There's A Purpose To This
It is so difficult living here with my parents, particularly my mother, though my dad is no picnic. But I don't live in fear of my dad sceaming at me.
I know, deep down, that I am here for a purpose. That I needed to experience this pain and to come to terms with the truth about who my parents really are vs. my sugar coated image of them.
But it is so painful. My life before we moved in with my parents was so calm. And now I am constantly on guard. Constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I am constantly angry and embarrassed and shocked by just how bad their behavior is, to each other, to me, to my husband, to strangers. It's like my parents have turned into cavemen.
I know God will find a way out for us. I just need to be patient. But it is so hard. I want to help God along by finding other ways out. Making some suggestions for Him to consider.
I am seriously afraid for my mental health if we stay here much longer. I've seen the toll it's taking on my husband too.
They are just to toxic. I thought they needed our help and they do need help and things go better for them when we help with cooking and errands. But our assistance is not so vital that they cannot survive without it. And if we leave on good terms, we can come back for a week or two every couple of months and I think that will be better for everyone. They are probably tired of us being here every day too.
But, I'm sure they aren't worried about whether I'm going to scream and call them names like I am with my mom.
I know, deep down, that I am here for a purpose. That I needed to experience this pain and to come to terms with the truth about who my parents really are vs. my sugar coated image of them.
But it is so painful. My life before we moved in with my parents was so calm. And now I am constantly on guard. Constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I am constantly angry and embarrassed and shocked by just how bad their behavior is, to each other, to me, to my husband, to strangers. It's like my parents have turned into cavemen.
I know God will find a way out for us. I just need to be patient. But it is so hard. I want to help God along by finding other ways out. Making some suggestions for Him to consider.
I am seriously afraid for my mental health if we stay here much longer. I've seen the toll it's taking on my husband too.
They are just to toxic. I thought they needed our help and they do need help and things go better for them when we help with cooking and errands. But our assistance is not so vital that they cannot survive without it. And if we leave on good terms, we can come back for a week or two every couple of months and I think that will be better for everyone. They are probably tired of us being here every day too.
But, I'm sure they aren't worried about whether I'm going to scream and call them names like I am with my mom.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Reduces Me To a Stammering Child
My husband invited his family to visit and to enjoy the property here. Seems simple enough, but that includes fishing and maybe a bit of hunting. I wished he'd not invited them. I wish he understood that I'd rather be inhospitable to his family than to risk the rage of my mom.
None of that is his fault. It's not mine either, it's just the conditioning I've had my whole life.
So I went to tell my mom they were going to visit tomorrow. She seemd confused and not too enthused. Why did they want to come here? Why did they want to hunt?
Had I told my dad? Yes, I explained that my husband had asked my dad. That migh have been a mistake because then she said "you planned all this and now you tell me". Yes, it is all about her. Everything, even some people she's never met and their desire to hunt is all about her.
Yes, I know I should feel compassion for her lonely bitter life. I'm still too angry for that.
While I was talking to her, my voice actually quavered. I wonder if she noticed. If so, it probably pleased her.
I've spent all day being anxious about telling her they were coming. I checked the weather forecast and hoped that maybe thunderstorms would keep them from coming.
She seemed okay with what I told her, but I am bracing myself. Sometime in the next twenty four hours she's going to have more to say about it. She'll either ask me a bunch of questions about them or she'll attack me for not telling her sooner.
I need to be ready. Can't let my guard down. If she attacks me, I'll use a narcissist apology "I'm sorry you feel that way." Maybe I'll try "You must have misunderstood."
Anyway, I'm a nervous wreck about this now, just waiting for her to explode.
I hope I'm wrong. I really do.
None of that is his fault. It's not mine either, it's just the conditioning I've had my whole life.
So I went to tell my mom they were going to visit tomorrow. She seemd confused and not too enthused. Why did they want to come here? Why did they want to hunt?
Had I told my dad? Yes, I explained that my husband had asked my dad. That migh have been a mistake because then she said "you planned all this and now you tell me". Yes, it is all about her. Everything, even some people she's never met and their desire to hunt is all about her.
Yes, I know I should feel compassion for her lonely bitter life. I'm still too angry for that.
While I was talking to her, my voice actually quavered. I wonder if she noticed. If so, it probably pleased her.
I've spent all day being anxious about telling her they were coming. I checked the weather forecast and hoped that maybe thunderstorms would keep them from coming.
She seemed okay with what I told her, but I am bracing myself. Sometime in the next twenty four hours she's going to have more to say about it. She'll either ask me a bunch of questions about them or she'll attack me for not telling her sooner.
I need to be ready. Can't let my guard down. If she attacks me, I'll use a narcissist apology "I'm sorry you feel that way." Maybe I'll try "You must have misunderstood."
Anyway, I'm a nervous wreck about this now, just waiting for her to explode.
I hope I'm wrong. I really do.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Sometimes It's Funny
What would I do without my sense of humor? I'm sure I would have gone completely over the edge long ago without it.
Sometimes narcissists are funny. They don't mean to be and it's more peaceful if you don't laugh in their face, but once you know what to look for, it can be entertaining to simply sit back and watch.
Tonight I watched a game show with my parents. One of the contestants mentioned that he was a college student studying history. The same major my mother had years ago. The contestant was also a musician and a father, but what she noticed and focused on was the fact that he was in college studying history.
Did she say "gee, good for him. I enjoyed history so I hope he does too?"
No.
Did she say, "I'm going to root for this guy to win big because we have something in common?"
No.
Did she say, "Wow, good for him. He's a busy man."
Now you're just being silly.
She used this tiny reference to studying history in college to talk about how when she took exams she had figured out what the professors would test on so she always did better than everyone else.
Let me mention again that it's been thirty years since she was in college. And she started twenty years before that with taking courses here and there.
Sometimes I feel like I should give her an award for taking obsure things and making them about her.
Sometimes narcissists are funny. They don't mean to be and it's more peaceful if you don't laugh in their face, but once you know what to look for, it can be entertaining to simply sit back and watch.
Tonight I watched a game show with my parents. One of the contestants mentioned that he was a college student studying history. The same major my mother had years ago. The contestant was also a musician and a father, but what she noticed and focused on was the fact that he was in college studying history.
Did she say "gee, good for him. I enjoyed history so I hope he does too?"
No.
Did she say, "I'm going to root for this guy to win big because we have something in common?"
No.
Did she say, "Wow, good for him. He's a busy man."
Now you're just being silly.
She used this tiny reference to studying history in college to talk about how when she took exams she had figured out what the professors would test on so she always did better than everyone else.
Let me mention again that it's been thirty years since she was in college. And she started twenty years before that with taking courses here and there.
Sometimes I feel like I should give her an award for taking obsure things and making them about her.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Things That Are A Waste of Time
Trying to get a narcissist to like you, particularly if they have already decided they don't.
Waiting for a narcissist to change.
Waiting for a narcissist to apologize. Sincerely.
Trying to impress a narcissists with your accomplishments.
Waiting for a narcissist to approve of you.
Explaining anything to a narcissist.
Buying a gift for a narcissists.
Trying to head off their rage, because no matter what you do, it will still erupt, usually for a reason you could have never predicted or prevented anyway.
Trying to convince them that the Golden Child isn't so golden.
Waiting for them to ask your opinion on anything, other than in an obvious attempt to make you compliment them.
Waiting for a narcissist to admit they are wrong. Or that anyone else could be right.
Waiting for you narcissist mother to compliment your appearance. Or notice any changes.
Waiting for a narcissists to ask about you.
Trying to talk them into being reasonable.
Defending anyone or anything that they have decided is wrong.
Waiting for a narcissist to be responsible for themselves and their needs.
Trying to convince an enabling spouse of a narcissists that they are married to a narcissist.
Encouraging an enabling spouse to stand up to a narcissists.
Trying to talk about anything other than what the narcissist wants to talk about. (Usually themselves).
Correcting a narcissist.
Thinking that if you pay attention to the narcissist now, you won't have to later.
Waiting for a narcissist to change.
Waiting for a narcissist to apologize. Sincerely.
Trying to impress a narcissists with your accomplishments.
Waiting for a narcissist to approve of you.
Explaining anything to a narcissist.
Buying a gift for a narcissists.
Trying to head off their rage, because no matter what you do, it will still erupt, usually for a reason you could have never predicted or prevented anyway.
Trying to convince them that the Golden Child isn't so golden.
Waiting for them to ask your opinion on anything, other than in an obvious attempt to make you compliment them.
Waiting for a narcissist to admit they are wrong. Or that anyone else could be right.
Waiting for you narcissist mother to compliment your appearance. Or notice any changes.
Waiting for a narcissists to ask about you.
Trying to talk them into being reasonable.
Defending anyone or anything that they have decided is wrong.
Waiting for a narcissist to be responsible for themselves and their needs.
Trying to convince an enabling spouse of a narcissists that they are married to a narcissist.
Encouraging an enabling spouse to stand up to a narcissists.
Trying to talk about anything other than what the narcissist wants to talk about. (Usually themselves).
Correcting a narcissist.
Thinking that if you pay attention to the narcissist now, you won't have to later.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Is It Better To Be The Golden Child?
I'm not sure.
Since I've never been on the top of the heap, I have no idea how that feels.
On the other hand, I think the odds of a Golden Child realizing that their mother/father is a narcissist is probably pretty slim, and it seems like that would make it difficult for the Golden Child to grow.
It sucks being the scapegoat and as I've looked back at more incidents from my life, it not only sucks, but it's painful. Very painful.
But, out of the pain comes the possibility of thinking "is this how it's supposed to be?" which can lead to healing and that makes me think that in the long run being the scapegoat is better.
What do you think?
Since I've never been on the top of the heap, I have no idea how that feels.
On the other hand, I think the odds of a Golden Child realizing that their mother/father is a narcissist is probably pretty slim, and it seems like that would make it difficult for the Golden Child to grow.
It sucks being the scapegoat and as I've looked back at more incidents from my life, it not only sucks, but it's painful. Very painful.
But, out of the pain comes the possibility of thinking "is this how it's supposed to be?" which can lead to healing and that makes me think that in the long run being the scapegoat is better.
What do you think?
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Is There Such A Thing As A Generous Narcissist?
Of course not!
Sure, they might do things that appear generous, but it is all done for the sake of attention and praise for themselves.
Ask yourself this...have you ever known a narcissists to give an anonymous gift?
Have you ever heard them complain (or been the subject of their rage) because someone did not appreciate their gift?
If they are giving a gift that will be viewed by others (like at a birthday party or bridal shower) do they give a more elaborate gift than if they were simply dropping something off at the recipient's house?
And what about their checkbook? Do they use it like a weapon? My father had a very successful career so my mother has had much more money than most of her peers (well, in her mind she has no peers, but you know what I mean). When I was a kid, I always wished I could be like the other kids and sort of blend in. Isn't that funny? When other kids brought in pretty simple cookies or cupcakes to school for their birthdays, I was jealous. I always had something that was just a little bit better/nicer than the average kid. And it tended to draw attention to the fact that we had more.
Now, I grew up in a small midwestern town in the 60s and 70s, so maybe it's different now and everyone has fancy treats for school.
Of course, she never asked what I wanted to bring. She just decided and I went along with it.
Oooops. I digress. Let's get back to generosity and narcissists.
My mother is currently making homemade jam, which is very tasty. That's nice. But, will she donate it to the local food pantry or day care center? No, she'll give it as gifts to people. Of course they will be grateful because it's yummy and quite a treat. But is she being generous? Not really. Because each recipient will be subjected to a long story about how she made the jam and probably another story or two about something vaguely related. So, in order to get your jam, you have to pay proper homage. No cash changes hands, but she'll happily take a chunk of your time and if possible, a bit of your soul.
Sure, they might do things that appear generous, but it is all done for the sake of attention and praise for themselves.
Ask yourself this...have you ever known a narcissists to give an anonymous gift?
Have you ever heard them complain (or been the subject of their rage) because someone did not appreciate their gift?
If they are giving a gift that will be viewed by others (like at a birthday party or bridal shower) do they give a more elaborate gift than if they were simply dropping something off at the recipient's house?
And what about their checkbook? Do they use it like a weapon? My father had a very successful career so my mother has had much more money than most of her peers (well, in her mind she has no peers, but you know what I mean). When I was a kid, I always wished I could be like the other kids and sort of blend in. Isn't that funny? When other kids brought in pretty simple cookies or cupcakes to school for their birthdays, I was jealous. I always had something that was just a little bit better/nicer than the average kid. And it tended to draw attention to the fact that we had more.
Now, I grew up in a small midwestern town in the 60s and 70s, so maybe it's different now and everyone has fancy treats for school.
Of course, she never asked what I wanted to bring. She just decided and I went along with it.
Oooops. I digress. Let's get back to generosity and narcissists.
My mother is currently making homemade jam, which is very tasty. That's nice. But, will she donate it to the local food pantry or day care center? No, she'll give it as gifts to people. Of course they will be grateful because it's yummy and quite a treat. But is she being generous? Not really. Because each recipient will be subjected to a long story about how she made the jam and probably another story or two about something vaguely related. So, in order to get your jam, you have to pay proper homage. No cash changes hands, but she'll happily take a chunk of your time and if possible, a bit of your soul.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Hard Realizations
Yesterday I told a friend about the big fight with my mom. This is a friend that I've known for several years but who doesn't know a whole lot about my family. We are sort of friends within a group of people and don't always spend that much time one on one.
So when I told her about the big fight and the things my mom did, she was shocked.
I was sort of embarrassed about how shocked she was. I guess I'm just so used to my family being screwed up that I didn't think about what it might look like to an outsider.
At one point I was telling her about the stuff my mom says to and about my dad and my friend said "Did she ever say those things in front of you?" My reply: "Of course. All the time. In fact, when I was growing up, and I suppose even now, it was just accepted that my dad was the bozo of the family and my mom was the hero and that was just that."
My friend was stunned, not just that my mother acted that way, but that she did so in front of her children.
Getting some fresh eyes on your life can be good but it's also very painful. Having someone look at you with shock, horror and pity when you describe what you think of as normal, is not a good feeling.
Frankly, it sort of rocked my world. I know she's correct and I'm glad to have someone reassure me that what I've lived with is far from normal or even nice, but still it shook me up.
The family that I had told myself for years and years was so wonderful and supportive was really pretty messed up. And as a result, so was/am I.
Let's just look at the whole experience of years and years of my mother calling my father stupid, to his face and to his children. What that did was make me see my father that way too. And I also treated him like he was second class, certainly not like a parent who I ought to respect and revere.
On the other hand, my father, who was/is the adult and my parent didn't protect me from my mother's wrath either. He bought into it. Still does.
I remember when I was 10 years old (several decades ago) and the mother of one of my classmates died. My father said to me, "Be sure you're nice to Tommy because his mom died."
Even at the time I thought "am I so horrible that he thinks he has to remind me to be nice to someone whose mother died?" "Is this what my father thinks of me?"
Apparently yes, he does. Otherwise, why would he have said anything at all.
What's even more upsetting is that my father's notion of my "meanness" wasn't based on any real events, but on the lies (yes, lies) my mother told about me. I don't mean that she made up stories, but she twisted my actions and called them mean when in reality I was probably either just trying to be funny or mimicking her behavior.
And my father believed it. Still believes it.
I was a child. A ten year old little girl. And he felt obliged to remind me not to be mean.
Honestly, how cruel is that?
I didn't tell my friend that story. It would have been too humiliating to have her know that my father thought I was a mean 10 year old. And not only that, but he believed it because my mother told him so, not because he'd come to that conclusion on his own. What kind of man treats his daughter that way?
No wonder I can't let a man take care of me. I never had the experience of it. I've had to fend for myself my whole damned life, even in the midst of a financially well-off upbringing where I had no worries and lots of friends.
Which, by the way, I have always had lots of friends and been well liked by teachers, co-workers etc. Is that the sort of thing that a mean person can say about themselves?
So when I told her about the big fight and the things my mom did, she was shocked.
I was sort of embarrassed about how shocked she was. I guess I'm just so used to my family being screwed up that I didn't think about what it might look like to an outsider.
At one point I was telling her about the stuff my mom says to and about my dad and my friend said "Did she ever say those things in front of you?" My reply: "Of course. All the time. In fact, when I was growing up, and I suppose even now, it was just accepted that my dad was the bozo of the family and my mom was the hero and that was just that."
My friend was stunned, not just that my mother acted that way, but that she did so in front of her children.
Getting some fresh eyes on your life can be good but it's also very painful. Having someone look at you with shock, horror and pity when you describe what you think of as normal, is not a good feeling.
Frankly, it sort of rocked my world. I know she's correct and I'm glad to have someone reassure me that what I've lived with is far from normal or even nice, but still it shook me up.
The family that I had told myself for years and years was so wonderful and supportive was really pretty messed up. And as a result, so was/am I.
Let's just look at the whole experience of years and years of my mother calling my father stupid, to his face and to his children. What that did was make me see my father that way too. And I also treated him like he was second class, certainly not like a parent who I ought to respect and revere.
On the other hand, my father, who was/is the adult and my parent didn't protect me from my mother's wrath either. He bought into it. Still does.
I remember when I was 10 years old (several decades ago) and the mother of one of my classmates died. My father said to me, "Be sure you're nice to Tommy because his mom died."
Even at the time I thought "am I so horrible that he thinks he has to remind me to be nice to someone whose mother died?" "Is this what my father thinks of me?"
Apparently yes, he does. Otherwise, why would he have said anything at all.
What's even more upsetting is that my father's notion of my "meanness" wasn't based on any real events, but on the lies (yes, lies) my mother told about me. I don't mean that she made up stories, but she twisted my actions and called them mean when in reality I was probably either just trying to be funny or mimicking her behavior.
And my father believed it. Still believes it.
I was a child. A ten year old little girl. And he felt obliged to remind me not to be mean.
Honestly, how cruel is that?
I didn't tell my friend that story. It would have been too humiliating to have her know that my father thought I was a mean 10 year old. And not only that, but he believed it because my mother told him so, not because he'd come to that conclusion on his own. What kind of man treats his daughter that way?
No wonder I can't let a man take care of me. I never had the experience of it. I've had to fend for myself my whole damned life, even in the midst of a financially well-off upbringing where I had no worries and lots of friends.
Which, by the way, I have always had lots of friends and been well liked by teachers, co-workers etc. Is that the sort of thing that a mean person can say about themselves?
Monday, May 26, 2014
Let's Call It What It Is---Abuse
I had a big screaming fight with my mother today, but I didn't back down. And I left in a pretty bitchy mood too.
But then a funny thing happened. I felt free.
All the things I've done for years...decades...my whole life...to get her approval came rushing to mind and I realized how nearly every decision I'd made had been to either seek her approval or avoid her disapproval (which is probably a higher priority if you've ever experienced the self-righteous wrath of a narcissist).
I thought about all the time I'd spent trying to dance to her tune so she'd think I was wonderful and a good girl...and I felt like a fool. Like I'd been played for her entertainment my whole damned life.
After the big fight, I called my husband and he said he was proud of me. That I shouldn't back down.
I'm proud of me too.
And a profound thought occurred to me and I actually said it out loud---I think I hate her.
I know that's horrible and if you've never dealt with an abusive mother you'll think I'm a horrible child, but once I thought that her love didn't matter to me, I felt a burden lift. A huge burden. Like 50 years of garbage.
All afternoon I kept to myself and in my mind I was saying "Fuck you" over and over and thinking about all the stuff I'd done to try to make her love me and I felt like a fool.
My husband and I moved in with my parents a few weeks ago to help them out. It was our suggestion. I also realized that no matter how nice I am or how much I do for them, they will never turn into warm, gentle reasonable people.
This afternoon, after the big fight, I wondered if I might lose my mind if I stayed here. Then I realized, I don't have to. We told them we'd be here for a few months, though we (my husband and I) both knew it was likely we'd be here until they died or needed to go to a home. Now I'm not so sure.
Who the hell does she think she is to talk to me the way she did? What mother, of any age, talks to her child that way?
I'm still mad, but now I feel more detached and more empowered. I don't have to take care of them. I don't have to fix their house. I ought to do a few things since I am living here for free and I don't want them to be miserable, but my days of step and fetch it are long over.
But then a funny thing happened. I felt free.
All the things I've done for years...decades...my whole life...to get her approval came rushing to mind and I realized how nearly every decision I'd made had been to either seek her approval or avoid her disapproval (which is probably a higher priority if you've ever experienced the self-righteous wrath of a narcissist).
I thought about all the time I'd spent trying to dance to her tune so she'd think I was wonderful and a good girl...and I felt like a fool. Like I'd been played for her entertainment my whole damned life.
After the big fight, I called my husband and he said he was proud of me. That I shouldn't back down.
I'm proud of me too.
And a profound thought occurred to me and I actually said it out loud---I think I hate her.
I know that's horrible and if you've never dealt with an abusive mother you'll think I'm a horrible child, but once I thought that her love didn't matter to me, I felt a burden lift. A huge burden. Like 50 years of garbage.
All afternoon I kept to myself and in my mind I was saying "Fuck you" over and over and thinking about all the stuff I'd done to try to make her love me and I felt like a fool.
My husband and I moved in with my parents a few weeks ago to help them out. It was our suggestion. I also realized that no matter how nice I am or how much I do for them, they will never turn into warm, gentle reasonable people.
This afternoon, after the big fight, I wondered if I might lose my mind if I stayed here. Then I realized, I don't have to. We told them we'd be here for a few months, though we (my husband and I) both knew it was likely we'd be here until they died or needed to go to a home. Now I'm not so sure.
Who the hell does she think she is to talk to me the way she did? What mother, of any age, talks to her child that way?
I'm still mad, but now I feel more detached and more empowered. I don't have to take care of them. I don't have to fix their house. I ought to do a few things since I am living here for free and I don't want them to be miserable, but my days of step and fetch it are long over.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Narcissists Can Never Give A Compliment Without Adding a Dig At the End
This morning I was trying to get some work done on the computer. My mother shuffled over and said "I'm going to write a short story. Give me an opening line."
I know I shouldn't have done it, but I said "Go away."
She shuffled away saying (for me to hear) "I'm going to write about an old witch with curlers in her hair." (I had curlers in my hair at the time.)
I didn't respond.
Two hours later I had made her a nice lunch and cleaned the kitchen. She even said (TWICE!) that I was a good daughter. Then, as I was leaving the room she said "I bet you wouldn't be very flattered if you read the short story I wrote this morning."
I said, "Well, what do you suppose I write about?" Implying that I might have written about her once or twice, but I don't think she got it because she said, "I was writing about you."
I just walked away.
But I'm mad. Disgusted. Annoyed. And wondering why I bother. I bust my ass to help her and cook for her so she has the energy and strength (and time) to write mean stories about me? And then tell me about it?
I think it's the urge to tell me about it that I find most annoying.
The irrefutable evidence (on her plate, no less) was that I was a good daughter who had worked hard to try to make life better for her mother. She even said so, but she just couldn't let it be 100% true, so she got in that last little jab (well, not really little either).
Wait...now that I think back on it, I also made a snarky comment about my brother's wife. Now my mother doesn't like her either, but my brother is the golden boy, so I wonder if that influenced her need to lash out at me? Probably not. The urge to smack me down is so strong for her, the real wonder is that it doesn't happen more often.
I'm sure she congratulates herself on her kindness in not slamming me even more.
I know I shouldn't have done it, but I said "Go away."
She shuffled away saying (for me to hear) "I'm going to write about an old witch with curlers in her hair." (I had curlers in my hair at the time.)
I didn't respond.
Two hours later I had made her a nice lunch and cleaned the kitchen. She even said (TWICE!) that I was a good daughter. Then, as I was leaving the room she said "I bet you wouldn't be very flattered if you read the short story I wrote this morning."
I said, "Well, what do you suppose I write about?" Implying that I might have written about her once or twice, but I don't think she got it because she said, "I was writing about you."
I just walked away.
But I'm mad. Disgusted. Annoyed. And wondering why I bother. I bust my ass to help her and cook for her so she has the energy and strength (and time) to write mean stories about me? And then tell me about it?
I think it's the urge to tell me about it that I find most annoying.
The irrefutable evidence (on her plate, no less) was that I was a good daughter who had worked hard to try to make life better for her mother. She even said so, but she just couldn't let it be 100% true, so she got in that last little jab (well, not really little either).
Wait...now that I think back on it, I also made a snarky comment about my brother's wife. Now my mother doesn't like her either, but my brother is the golden boy, so I wonder if that influenced her need to lash out at me? Probably not. The urge to smack me down is so strong for her, the real wonder is that it doesn't happen more often.
I'm sure she congratulates herself on her kindness in not slamming me even more.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
The Scapegoat
That's me!
Last time (scroll down to read it) I wrote about my brother, The Golden Child.
I am the scapegoat. And hard as it is to give up the hope that my status will ever change, I have to come to terms with the fact that that's how it will always be.
On the surface, and as I said last time, people would say that my mom just adores me since she talks about me all the time w/her friends...what I'm doing etc.
But in reality, she criticizes me constantly. Little digs about my hair or my clothes. My dog, my son. Even the brand of peanut butter I buy. They are all fair game for her caustic comments, as far as she's concerned.
My brother on the other hand...can do no wrong. He lives over 1,000 miles away and visits for 48 hours each year. I live about an hour away and visit at least a couple times per month plus I'm on call for hospital stays, surgeries, and doctor's visits.
A couple years ago my brother called one of my dad's doctors to find out what was going on with my dad. Apparently the doctor told my parents how nice he was and that he'd said "whatever you need to do to keep my dad healthy, you do it".
I'm sure he was sincere when he said it. And it was nice of the doctor to tell my parents because all parents like to hear their children praised by others.
But...imagine what it was like for me when I rearranged my life in order to attend a procedure with my parents and while I'm sitting there (and have been for hours) both parents mention how wonderful it was that my brother called the doctor. Then the doctor came in and when my parents introduced me he mentioned how nice it was to talk to my brother.
Now...it's not the doctor's fault that I have some bitterness, so I just smiled and agreed. What I really wanted to say was "gee, it's easy to phone it in. I'm actually here." I'm glad I didn't because, as I said, it's not the doctor's fault and he was just trying to be nice.
So I sat there and kept my mouth shut. What could I say that wouldn't sound bitter (because I was/am)?
Apparently if you're the Golden Child one phone call is worth more than days and days of actually being there.
And that pretty much sums up the value a narcissistic parent places on their scapegoat child.
Last time (scroll down to read it) I wrote about my brother, The Golden Child.
I am the scapegoat. And hard as it is to give up the hope that my status will ever change, I have to come to terms with the fact that that's how it will always be.
On the surface, and as I said last time, people would say that my mom just adores me since she talks about me all the time w/her friends...what I'm doing etc.
But in reality, she criticizes me constantly. Little digs about my hair or my clothes. My dog, my son. Even the brand of peanut butter I buy. They are all fair game for her caustic comments, as far as she's concerned.
My brother on the other hand...can do no wrong. He lives over 1,000 miles away and visits for 48 hours each year. I live about an hour away and visit at least a couple times per month plus I'm on call for hospital stays, surgeries, and doctor's visits.
A couple years ago my brother called one of my dad's doctors to find out what was going on with my dad. Apparently the doctor told my parents how nice he was and that he'd said "whatever you need to do to keep my dad healthy, you do it".
I'm sure he was sincere when he said it. And it was nice of the doctor to tell my parents because all parents like to hear their children praised by others.
But...imagine what it was like for me when I rearranged my life in order to attend a procedure with my parents and while I'm sitting there (and have been for hours) both parents mention how wonderful it was that my brother called the doctor. Then the doctor came in and when my parents introduced me he mentioned how nice it was to talk to my brother.
Now...it's not the doctor's fault that I have some bitterness, so I just smiled and agreed. What I really wanted to say was "gee, it's easy to phone it in. I'm actually here." I'm glad I didn't because, as I said, it's not the doctor's fault and he was just trying to be nice.
So I sat there and kept my mouth shut. What could I say that wouldn't sound bitter (because I was/am)?
Apparently if you're the Golden Child one phone call is worth more than days and days of actually being there.
And that pretty much sums up the value a narcissistic parent places on their scapegoat child.
Monday, May 12, 2014
The Golden Child
It's not me.
From what I've read about Narcisstic mothers there is usually one golden child and at least one scapegoat child. I'm not sure what happens if there is only one child or more than two...is there one golden child and the rest are scapegoats? All I can report here is my own experience.
If you asked anyone who knows my mom they'd say she loves me (I think she does in her own way) and is very proud (yes, I suppose so, but I think more as it relates to making her seems more important than to actual pride in me.) of me.
[This leads to a side thought which I might want to address another time...how can my mother be proud of me when she doesn't even really know me. She thinks she does. She thinks she knows me better than I know myself, but the truth is, she doesn't.]
I suppose that's true because I'm pretty accomplished so that gives her something to talk about. But, that still doesn't make me the golden child. Oh no...that's my older brother.
My brother is a good guy. Honest and hard working and generous. He's got a degree from a prestigious college, but his job is pretty blue collar.
Now...on the list of things my mother values, education, being smart, reading all those sorts of intellectual pursuits are at the top of the list. And, by the way, I am all those things. (I really don't want to sound like I'm bragging, I'm just stating the facts. I have an advanced degree and a successful professional career, as well as a writing career. I have friends who are educated and accomplished. You know...all that sort of thing.)
My brother, on the other hand, hasn't read a book for years. Drinks too much. And most of his friends are really just a bunch of drinking buddies who take advantage of his good nature and wallet.
Would my mother ever admit that my brother isn't who she'd like him to be? No! Never.
Now, she will blame and criticize everyone around him, including his wife (who is no prize) for my brother's bad behavior, but she never can quite bring herself to lay blame on my brother. Or if she does, it will be sort of the compliment/blame like "well, he's just always been so honest and trusting it's no wonder people take advantage of him" rather than "well, if he had any sense or any balls, he would see these people for what they are".
Every now and then I'll try to bait her into criticizing him, but she just can't do it.
To me, it seems like it would be so difficult for her to square in her brain the fact that the golden boy is not nearly as golden as she'd like to think, but she manages. And has for years and years.
From what I've read about Narcisstic mothers there is usually one golden child and at least one scapegoat child. I'm not sure what happens if there is only one child or more than two...is there one golden child and the rest are scapegoats? All I can report here is my own experience.
If you asked anyone who knows my mom they'd say she loves me (I think she does in her own way) and is very proud (yes, I suppose so, but I think more as it relates to making her seems more important than to actual pride in me.) of me.
[This leads to a side thought which I might want to address another time...how can my mother be proud of me when she doesn't even really know me. She thinks she does. She thinks she knows me better than I know myself, but the truth is, she doesn't.]
I suppose that's true because I'm pretty accomplished so that gives her something to talk about. But, that still doesn't make me the golden child. Oh no...that's my older brother.
My brother is a good guy. Honest and hard working and generous. He's got a degree from a prestigious college, but his job is pretty blue collar.
Now...on the list of things my mother values, education, being smart, reading all those sorts of intellectual pursuits are at the top of the list. And, by the way, I am all those things. (I really don't want to sound like I'm bragging, I'm just stating the facts. I have an advanced degree and a successful professional career, as well as a writing career. I have friends who are educated and accomplished. You know...all that sort of thing.)
My brother, on the other hand, hasn't read a book for years. Drinks too much. And most of his friends are really just a bunch of drinking buddies who take advantage of his good nature and wallet.
Would my mother ever admit that my brother isn't who she'd like him to be? No! Never.
Now, she will blame and criticize everyone around him, including his wife (who is no prize) for my brother's bad behavior, but she never can quite bring herself to lay blame on my brother. Or if she does, it will be sort of the compliment/blame like "well, he's just always been so honest and trusting it's no wonder people take advantage of him" rather than "well, if he had any sense or any balls, he would see these people for what they are".
Every now and then I'll try to bait her into criticizing him, but she just can't do it.
To me, it seems like it would be so difficult for her to square in her brain the fact that the golden boy is not nearly as golden as she'd like to think, but she manages. And has for years and years.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Even More Myths Narcissists Create About Themselves
As I have mentioned, my mother is aging and in poor health. She has trouble getting around and her energy level is pretty low. It's sad to see and I am determined to do what I can so that I don't have the same problems since I think some of them are hereditary.
What I have noticed is that my mother talks all the time about how hard she used to work and all the things she did. She'll say "If I'd known I was going to use up all my ability to work, I would have slowed down and saved some for now."
If someone had asked me about my mother, I would have said she was a hard worker. But now that I am really examining the truth vs. myths, I have stopped to consider my recollection of my mother as a "hard worker".
Now...we all know people who are hard workers. They are up cleaning and cooking early in the morning, probably tending a garden in the summer, while also working a full or part time job. They are also the people who are the first in line to help a friend or neighbor. They also don't complain about how hard they work because it seems sort of like a compulsion or just a natural way of being for them.
There are others who work hard because they have to. There's a lot to get done. They have bills to pay and families to care for.
And then there's my mother. My father worked and my mother stayed home. My father earned a ton of money and we lived a very comfortable life. Not opulant, but looking back I realize that we were very well off and money was never a worry. My father never restricted my mother's spending (like he could have anyway...but that's another topic for another day). So, as far as working at a job because she had to put food on the table or pay the electric bill was never an issue for my mother. Never ever.
She did have some part time jobs here and there and she collected and sold antiques and generally (at least according to her) did well.
But, do I have a recollection of my mother has haggard and harried? No.
We did always have dinner on the table, but as I recall, once I got to be about 10 years old, she'd send me into the grocery store while she waited in the car and she also had me doing a fair amount of the cooking or at least helping with the cooking. That's hardly unusual and I never felt overly burdened by it. But, if you think she was covered in flour from making pies from scratch and digging in her garden...you're wrong.
My recollections of my mother from my childhood are generally pleasant. Remember, it's only recently that I figured out that she's a narcissists. I've been buying into her myth my whole life. And, there were many fun times.
But, back to the issue at hand...was she a hard worker? No. I don't think anyone other than my mother would describe her as a hard worker. My dad might because he's bought into her myth too.
Sure she did her fair share, but to call any of it hard work or hard work over a long period of time is simply not true.
Of course...I won't be the one to tell her that. I know better.
What I have noticed is that my mother talks all the time about how hard she used to work and all the things she did. She'll say "If I'd known I was going to use up all my ability to work, I would have slowed down and saved some for now."
If someone had asked me about my mother, I would have said she was a hard worker. But now that I am really examining the truth vs. myths, I have stopped to consider my recollection of my mother as a "hard worker".
Now...we all know people who are hard workers. They are up cleaning and cooking early in the morning, probably tending a garden in the summer, while also working a full or part time job. They are also the people who are the first in line to help a friend or neighbor. They also don't complain about how hard they work because it seems sort of like a compulsion or just a natural way of being for them.
There are others who work hard because they have to. There's a lot to get done. They have bills to pay and families to care for.
And then there's my mother. My father worked and my mother stayed home. My father earned a ton of money and we lived a very comfortable life. Not opulant, but looking back I realize that we were very well off and money was never a worry. My father never restricted my mother's spending (like he could have anyway...but that's another topic for another day). So, as far as working at a job because she had to put food on the table or pay the electric bill was never an issue for my mother. Never ever.
She did have some part time jobs here and there and she collected and sold antiques and generally (at least according to her) did well.
But, do I have a recollection of my mother has haggard and harried? No.
We did always have dinner on the table, but as I recall, once I got to be about 10 years old, she'd send me into the grocery store while she waited in the car and she also had me doing a fair amount of the cooking or at least helping with the cooking. That's hardly unusual and I never felt overly burdened by it. But, if you think she was covered in flour from making pies from scratch and digging in her garden...you're wrong.
My recollections of my mother from my childhood are generally pleasant. Remember, it's only recently that I figured out that she's a narcissists. I've been buying into her myth my whole life. And, there were many fun times.
But, back to the issue at hand...was she a hard worker? No. I don't think anyone other than my mother would describe her as a hard worker. My dad might because he's bought into her myth too.
Sure she did her fair share, but to call any of it hard work or hard work over a long period of time is simply not true.
Of course...I won't be the one to tell her that. I know better.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
When Narcissists Attack
As a follow up to my last post about the tears of a narcissist, I want to address what has happened the few times my mother has driven me to tears.
In normal people (I think, I'm probably mostly guessing here) when someone else is crying you show compassion and try to alleviate whatever it is that is causing their tears.
But not with my mother...there have been a handful of times when we have argued (I've since learned my lesson and do my utmost to suck it up and shut up, but sometimes I slip) and my mother has driven me to tears. Does she back off and realize that whatever we are arguing about is painful to me? Does she re-think her position or even do anything to alleviate my upset (I am her daughter afterall)? No, she's like a shark that smells blood and goes in for the kill, not stopping until her adult daughter who is an accomplished professional is a cowering, sobbing, mess.
Nice.
Now, this is during arguments. At other times when I've been sad and she's maybe found me crying (I don't think I ever do it in her presence if I can help it), she does try to be helpful, but it usually is so awkward and uncomfortable...and not at all comforting, that I just want it to stop.
Sad, isn't it? That a child does not want the comfort of her mother?
Hey...I'm not saying I'm a 100% emotionally healthy person...I'm just on a journey to be a bit better.
In normal people (I think, I'm probably mostly guessing here) when someone else is crying you show compassion and try to alleviate whatever it is that is causing their tears.
But not with my mother...there have been a handful of times when we have argued (I've since learned my lesson and do my utmost to suck it up and shut up, but sometimes I slip) and my mother has driven me to tears. Does she back off and realize that whatever we are arguing about is painful to me? Does she re-think her position or even do anything to alleviate my upset (I am her daughter afterall)? No, she's like a shark that smells blood and goes in for the kill, not stopping until her adult daughter who is an accomplished professional is a cowering, sobbing, mess.
Nice.
Now, this is during arguments. At other times when I've been sad and she's maybe found me crying (I don't think I ever do it in her presence if I can help it), she does try to be helpful, but it usually is so awkward and uncomfortable...and not at all comforting, that I just want it to stop.
Sad, isn't it? That a child does not want the comfort of her mother?
Hey...I'm not saying I'm a 100% emotionally healthy person...I'm just on a journey to be a bit better.
Monday, April 28, 2014
The Tears Of A Narcissist
I've been spending a lot of time with my mother lately and I've realized that she cries often. Not at sentimental movies or over the beauty of a sunset and most certainly not due to over-flowing love for me or my father...no her tears are all motivated by self-pity.
Admittedly, she does have serious physical ailments which cause her pain, but what I have noticed is that when she cries it is not from the physical pain but due to self-pity because the physical pain limits her abilities to do other things.
Once someone pays attention to her, the tears seem to stop. It's a miracle! If I miss the tears in real time, she'll report to me later, either in person or by email, that she "just sat and cried".
Now...I will acknowledge that I have shed a fair amout of "poor pitiful me" tears over the years. Who hasn't? But, I don't let anyone else know about it and I'm also moved by other emotions. I need to be more emotional and get in touch with those feelings more easily, but I comfort myself by knowing that I at least realize the problem.
My mother is also expert at generating tears in order to win an argument.
Because I have some narcissistic tendencies too...her tears are having very little affect on me other than to make me roll my eyes, grit my teeth, and try to tend to her needs. She's still my mother, afterall.
Admittedly, she does have serious physical ailments which cause her pain, but what I have noticed is that when she cries it is not from the physical pain but due to self-pity because the physical pain limits her abilities to do other things.
Once someone pays attention to her, the tears seem to stop. It's a miracle! If I miss the tears in real time, she'll report to me later, either in person or by email, that she "just sat and cried".
Now...I will acknowledge that I have shed a fair amout of "poor pitiful me" tears over the years. Who hasn't? But, I don't let anyone else know about it and I'm also moved by other emotions. I need to be more emotional and get in touch with those feelings more easily, but I comfort myself by knowing that I at least realize the problem.
My mother is also expert at generating tears in order to win an argument.
Because I have some narcissistic tendencies too...her tears are having very little affect on me other than to make me roll my eyes, grit my teeth, and try to tend to her needs. She's still my mother, afterall.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
This is so helpful
I don't know if anyone will ever read these blog posts and that's okay. A huge blog following is not my goal and to be honest, sometimes I am afraid that the narcissists in my life will find this blog and then all hell will break lose. But, of course, they'd never do that because the don't think they are narcissists and wouldn't bother doing any research on the topic. Still, the fear of reprisal is irrational but real.
I could just keep a journal on my computer and write these things down, but somehow writing it like I am telling a friend is helpful. I also like doing short snippets and trying to give each one a title and a theme. It helps me to sort my thoughts a little better, I think.
It also makes me feel like I am telling on them. You know, like running to the teacher. Isn't that funny? But when something one of the narcissists does bugs me, I start thinking of a blog post and I feel a little bit like I am getting one over on them.
Yes, that's probably a little silly, but it works.
I could just keep a journal on my computer and write these things down, but somehow writing it like I am telling a friend is helpful. I also like doing short snippets and trying to give each one a title and a theme. It helps me to sort my thoughts a little better, I think.
It also makes me feel like I am telling on them. You know, like running to the teacher. Isn't that funny? But when something one of the narcissists does bugs me, I start thinking of a blog post and I feel a little bit like I am getting one over on them.
Yes, that's probably a little silly, but it works.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Narcissitic Rage
I'm sure we all wish we knew what set off narcissitic rage because then we'd do just about anything to avoid it. The real hurt of these attacks is that it often catches you off guard.
This morning, I remembered one such incident.
On the day that I recieved my graduate degree, my parents and my brother attended the ceremony. There was a reception afterward for those in my department. My family came, but stayed only briefly, then said they had to get on their way.
That was fine by me since I was more interested in talking to my friends than introducing my family around.
A few hours later I finished packing up my car and drove to my parents' house where I'd be living for a couple months. When I got there, my brother came out and informed me my mother had been on a tear, including crying, since they left the reception because I was "embarrassed by them."
So, on what ought to have been a triumphant arrival home after accomplishing something pretty impressive, I had the rug pulled out from under me. I went in the house to try to soothe the situation, of course I was sure I must have done something to merit this because at that time (over twenty years ago) I was still pretty sure my mother was right about everything.
I went in the house and she ranted at me and I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I had no idea what imaginary slight had brought this on, but she was in a full blown rant which had apparently been going on for some time.
Looking back, I can't help but wonder if either my brother or father had tried to stick up for me or if they were just trying to steer clear of the fallout. I can't imagine that my brother, the golden boy, came to my defense, though I'd like to think that my father at least tried (before he was shouted down).
Now, whenever I look back on what was a pretty impressive accomplishment in my life, what I most remember is my mom's lunacy.
I can only guess that my academic accomplishments and prestige, something she always wanted for herself, set her off. She couldn't stand thinking that I'd outdone her.
It's ironic, because she was very supportive of me going to graduate school, yet on the day when the spotlight was supposed to be on me, she just couldn't take it.
Frankly, I'm angry and hurt. I know now that I was not to blame. She, of course, will never know that.
Sometimes I think I'd like to bring that day up and tell her how horrible she was and how wrong she was, but I know better. Even if she does give some sort of weak apology she will still manage to make it all my fault.
This morning, I remembered one such incident.
On the day that I recieved my graduate degree, my parents and my brother attended the ceremony. There was a reception afterward for those in my department. My family came, but stayed only briefly, then said they had to get on their way.
That was fine by me since I was more interested in talking to my friends than introducing my family around.
A few hours later I finished packing up my car and drove to my parents' house where I'd be living for a couple months. When I got there, my brother came out and informed me my mother had been on a tear, including crying, since they left the reception because I was "embarrassed by them."
So, on what ought to have been a triumphant arrival home after accomplishing something pretty impressive, I had the rug pulled out from under me. I went in the house to try to soothe the situation, of course I was sure I must have done something to merit this because at that time (over twenty years ago) I was still pretty sure my mother was right about everything.
I went in the house and she ranted at me and I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I had no idea what imaginary slight had brought this on, but she was in a full blown rant which had apparently been going on for some time.
Looking back, I can't help but wonder if either my brother or father had tried to stick up for me or if they were just trying to steer clear of the fallout. I can't imagine that my brother, the golden boy, came to my defense, though I'd like to think that my father at least tried (before he was shouted down).
Now, whenever I look back on what was a pretty impressive accomplishment in my life, what I most remember is my mom's lunacy.
I can only guess that my academic accomplishments and prestige, something she always wanted for herself, set her off. She couldn't stand thinking that I'd outdone her.
It's ironic, because she was very supportive of me going to graduate school, yet on the day when the spotlight was supposed to be on me, she just couldn't take it.
Frankly, I'm angry and hurt. I know now that I was not to blame. She, of course, will never know that.
Sometimes I think I'd like to bring that day up and tell her how horrible she was and how wrong she was, but I know better. Even if she does give some sort of weak apology she will still manage to make it all my fault.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Hurtful Things Narcissists Say
We all have unkind or sarcastic thoughts about other people. I have them all the time. But, I like to think that I am getting better about keeping them to myself and being mindful of the fact that such things can be hurtful to others.
My mother has no such qualms.
I've never been pretty and feminine. I can be attractive but it generally takes some effort. I'm fine with that, but of course I'd like it better if it was more of a natural thing. However, I'd like to add that my mother never was of much assistance in encouraging me to be pretty or attractive (more on that at a later time).
I always wish I had a great hairstyle. About 12 years ago I had my hair fairly long and then permed it. It wasn't a great look.
A few months later I got a new haircut and my mother said "Oh, your hair looks so nice. I really hated the way it looked before. I kept giving you hints and that's why I kept buying you those salon gift certificates, but you kept getting massages instead of a decent haircut."
So, instead of feeling good about my new haircut, I felt like a fool who had been going around with a horrible hairstyle for months and had even been too dense to pick up on my mother's oh-so-helpful hints. All I could think about was that I'd looked awful for so long.
Now, why couldn't she have just complimented me on the new haircut and shut up about it?
I'm no expert, but I think that because everything is about her, she had to add in how she'd known all along that I needed something different, thus proving how much smarter she was and how much more fashion conscious she was than me.
It can't just be about my new haircut. She has to add in a dig.
And, given that I still remember it...you know it hurt.
My mother has no such qualms.
I've never been pretty and feminine. I can be attractive but it generally takes some effort. I'm fine with that, but of course I'd like it better if it was more of a natural thing. However, I'd like to add that my mother never was of much assistance in encouraging me to be pretty or attractive (more on that at a later time).
I always wish I had a great hairstyle. About 12 years ago I had my hair fairly long and then permed it. It wasn't a great look.
A few months later I got a new haircut and my mother said "Oh, your hair looks so nice. I really hated the way it looked before. I kept giving you hints and that's why I kept buying you those salon gift certificates, but you kept getting massages instead of a decent haircut."
So, instead of feeling good about my new haircut, I felt like a fool who had been going around with a horrible hairstyle for months and had even been too dense to pick up on my mother's oh-so-helpful hints. All I could think about was that I'd looked awful for so long.
Now, why couldn't she have just complimented me on the new haircut and shut up about it?
I'm no expert, but I think that because everything is about her, she had to add in how she'd known all along that I needed something different, thus proving how much smarter she was and how much more fashion conscious she was than me.
It can't just be about my new haircut. She has to add in a dig.
And, given that I still remember it...you know it hurt.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
The Hurtful Things Narcissists Say
Background: As I mentioned in the post above, my mother has had some serious health problems, but there's been nothing major in the last 3-4 years.
My mother can't get around very well, so she spends most of her time at home. I know that gets boring and I try to take her out or to take both my parents on little trips on a regular basis. Believe me, this is rarely a super fun time for me because they are both getting old and need help. Regardless, I do these things to try to ease their boredom and because I (mostly) enjoy spending time with them.
My son, their only grandson, also visits regularly and has, on several occasions, spent entire days takinng my mother shopping.
The incident:
The other day I was at my parents' house and my mother had gone out to lunch with a friend. She called while she was gone to say that they were going to do some shopping and she'd be home later than expected. She also mentioned what a wonderful day she was having. Good. I was happy to hear it. As anyone with a narcissistic mother knows, you hold your breath hoping she's having a good day, or at least not having a bad day, because that lessens the odds that she'll go into a rant at you.
While she was gone my husband and I busted our asses doing some home repairs for them.
When she got home she went on and on and on about what a wonderful day she had. I was happy for her. I have plenty of wonderful days and don't begrudge anyone else having them.
But....here's the kicker. Several times she said "This is the best day I've had since I went into the hospital in 2008."
My reaction: I didn't say anything to her. I know better (though I still slip up from time to time). But I'll tell you, it hurt and it made me mad. I'm not jealous of the friend who took her to lunch. I like her and I'm grateful that she's willing to give my mom a diversion. What I am bothered by is how hurtful and insensitive my mother's words were, to me, to my son and to everyone who has gone out of their way to provide some comfort and pleasure for my parents.
And she said it over and over again. I can only imagine the sting it put to my father's feelings to realize that nothing he'd done in the last 6 years could measure up to one lunch and a bit of shopping.
She also said "She was so patient with me. Everyone else who takes me shopping just paces around and tries to rush me."
Hmmm...the only people who take her shopping are me or my son. How can I not be offended by that?
The good news: I'm still hurt and angry over that. But, I'm also not overly inclined to go out of my way to take her shopping again in the near future. And when I do (because we all know I will eventually) I'll be as patient and kind and I am able and I'll keep my expectations low. I know it will never measure up to the magical day with her friend, who no doubt fawned all over my mother and treated her like a queen. Good for her. It's what every narcissistic mother wants, afterall.
My mother can't get around very well, so she spends most of her time at home. I know that gets boring and I try to take her out or to take both my parents on little trips on a regular basis. Believe me, this is rarely a super fun time for me because they are both getting old and need help. Regardless, I do these things to try to ease their boredom and because I (mostly) enjoy spending time with them.
My son, their only grandson, also visits regularly and has, on several occasions, spent entire days takinng my mother shopping.
The incident:
The other day I was at my parents' house and my mother had gone out to lunch with a friend. She called while she was gone to say that they were going to do some shopping and she'd be home later than expected. She also mentioned what a wonderful day she was having. Good. I was happy to hear it. As anyone with a narcissistic mother knows, you hold your breath hoping she's having a good day, or at least not having a bad day, because that lessens the odds that she'll go into a rant at you.
While she was gone my husband and I busted our asses doing some home repairs for them.
When she got home she went on and on and on about what a wonderful day she had. I was happy for her. I have plenty of wonderful days and don't begrudge anyone else having them.
But....here's the kicker. Several times she said "This is the best day I've had since I went into the hospital in 2008."
My reaction: I didn't say anything to her. I know better (though I still slip up from time to time). But I'll tell you, it hurt and it made me mad. I'm not jealous of the friend who took her to lunch. I like her and I'm grateful that she's willing to give my mom a diversion. What I am bothered by is how hurtful and insensitive my mother's words were, to me, to my son and to everyone who has gone out of their way to provide some comfort and pleasure for my parents.
And she said it over and over again. I can only imagine the sting it put to my father's feelings to realize that nothing he'd done in the last 6 years could measure up to one lunch and a bit of shopping.
She also said "She was so patient with me. Everyone else who takes me shopping just paces around and tries to rush me."
Hmmm...the only people who take her shopping are me or my son. How can I not be offended by that?
The good news: I'm still hurt and angry over that. But, I'm also not overly inclined to go out of my way to take her shopping again in the near future. And when I do (because we all know I will eventually) I'll be as patient and kind and I am able and I'll keep my expectations low. I know it will never measure up to the magical day with her friend, who no doubt fawned all over my mother and treated her like a queen. Good for her. It's what every narcissistic mother wants, afterall.
Friday, March 28, 2014
How I Finally Realized My Mother Was A Narcissist
My parents are aged and in poor health. Over the last couple of years, my father, who had never had health problems before, had a heart attack. Apparently all those years of smoking, drinking and eating the wrong things caught up to him.
Like a dutiful daughter, I did my best to go to doctor's appointments with them and be there when they were in the hospital.
During one of my father's hospital stays, I noticed the following two things my mom said.
First, when the doctor came into the room she was determined to tell the doctor all the things my father had done wrong (or that he'd done after she'd told him not to) like she was telling on an unruly siblilng instead of her husband of more than 50 years. Then whenever she talked to the doctors or nurses about my dad's condition, it was always about how it affected her. "He just won't listen when I tell him not to eat X". "I'm just so exhausted from trying to take care of him." (BTW---he doesn't need any care, though he does need to be better about what he eats."
Before I go on to the second thing I noticed, let me give you a bit of background. While my father has not had any obvious health problems until about 4 years ago, my mother has. In the last 10 years or so, she has spent significant amounts of time in hospitals and nursing homes, though she is at home now and doing fine, or as fine as someone can who has had those problems.
So, we go into my father's hospital room and there's a recliner there. She sits in it and says "Oh, I never had anything this comfortable when I was in the hospital." She looks out the window. "I wish I'd had a nice view like this when I was in the hosptial. Oh, all those lonely days and long nights."
Yes, while my father was hooked up to machines and we were unclear about his condition, she made the conversation all about her.
I'm embarrassed to admit that I was almost 50 before I noticed these things, but when I did, I started thinking and did a bit of research. When I read about Narcissist Mothers, it was like the clouds in my brain parted and it all became clear.
Now, let me say, that I love my mother very much. I have no plans to go low or no contact. But, I do want to sort through these many issues and try to come to peace with this situation.
Like a dutiful daughter, I did my best to go to doctor's appointments with them and be there when they were in the hospital.
During one of my father's hospital stays, I noticed the following two things my mom said.
First, when the doctor came into the room she was determined to tell the doctor all the things my father had done wrong (or that he'd done after she'd told him not to) like she was telling on an unruly siblilng instead of her husband of more than 50 years. Then whenever she talked to the doctors or nurses about my dad's condition, it was always about how it affected her. "He just won't listen when I tell him not to eat X". "I'm just so exhausted from trying to take care of him." (BTW---he doesn't need any care, though he does need to be better about what he eats."
Before I go on to the second thing I noticed, let me give you a bit of background. While my father has not had any obvious health problems until about 4 years ago, my mother has. In the last 10 years or so, she has spent significant amounts of time in hospitals and nursing homes, though she is at home now and doing fine, or as fine as someone can who has had those problems.
So, we go into my father's hospital room and there's a recliner there. She sits in it and says "Oh, I never had anything this comfortable when I was in the hospital." She looks out the window. "I wish I'd had a nice view like this when I was in the hosptial. Oh, all those lonely days and long nights."
Yes, while my father was hooked up to machines and we were unclear about his condition, she made the conversation all about her.
I'm embarrassed to admit that I was almost 50 before I noticed these things, but when I did, I started thinking and did a bit of research. When I read about Narcissist Mothers, it was like the clouds in my brain parted and it all became clear.
Now, let me say, that I love my mother very much. I have no plans to go low or no contact. But, I do want to sort through these many issues and try to come to peace with this situation.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Welcome!
Welcome to my blog.
I don't actually know if anyone will stop by, but if you do, please feel free to join the conversation.
A blog was originally meant to be sort of a cyber diary and that's what I intend to do here. This is my place to post about my thoughts and experiences in dealing with my mother and my best friend who I have finally figured out are both narcissists.
I'd like to write a book about my experiences and I thought this blog would be a good way to sort out all my different thoughts in smaller pieces.
I don't actually know if anyone will stop by, but if you do, please feel free to join the conversation.
A blog was originally meant to be sort of a cyber diary and that's what I intend to do here. This is my place to post about my thoughts and experiences in dealing with my mother and my best friend who I have finally figured out are both narcissists.
I'd like to write a book about my experiences and I thought this blog would be a good way to sort out all my different thoughts in smaller pieces.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)