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.

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.

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.

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.