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.

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.

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.

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.

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.