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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?