https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFZ6af4BHjWU4DENAAUCvVAhttps://www.facebook.com/daughterofanarcissistmother

 


My mother's friend from the old neighborhood stopped by today without calling first.  He called when he was outside our house and she didn't answer, so he just knocked on our door.  I answered, and got my mother to tell her he's here and what does she say to me? 

Her: Shut your window so I can smoke out front.  

Me: No.  It's hot inside and there is no smoking out front.  That's the rule.

Her: Well, don't get too mad at me if I do.

Me:  You won't because you know the rules.  And I will be mad.  The answer is no.

Her: I most likely will. 

Me: Or, it's just smoking, and you could just not smoke.  It's not that hard.

Her: I probably will. 

Me: B and I were on our way out the door to clean out the eaves anyways, so you can just wait. 

Her: You can start out back.

Me: It doesn't take that long, so even if we did, we'll still be out front before you're done visiting.  So, just don't smoke. 

Her: I am going to.

Me: Or, you could just be considerate of what other people ask you not to do. 

Her: I am just not that type of person. 

What on earth did she just say? Why does she keep on getting more honest the older she gets?

Me: *snorts*  Yeah, I am well aware of that fact.

End Scene


Here's how the scene should have went: 


Her: Shut your window so I can smoke out front.  

Me: No.  It's hot inside and there is no smoking out front.  That's the rule.

Her: Well, don't get too mad at me if I do.

Me: The conversation is over.  I already said no.  If you smoke out front, there will be consequences.  Period.  I am done with this conversation.  

Her: I most likely will.  (but I wouldn't have heard this part since I would have already left the room)


She baited me and she won.  She knew damn well there will be consequences so that's why she pushed it with me like that.  She knew she would not smoke out front.  She just wanted to play the badass in front of her shitty little friend (this guy is a DICK with a capital D).  I shouldn't have answered the door.  In fact, I won't next time.  There should be consequences for her being an idiot about all this with me.  And this guy, for some reason, she likes to be pretend she's a BITCH around him.  The entire time they visited?  All she did was bash me and my family.  So yeah, I am not answering the door next time.  I don't like who she becomes around this guy.  He's the husband her old posse buddy who died.  Both him and his wife were so far up my mother's ass it was hard to tell where my mother started and where these people ended.  He's such a dick that he even started hating my son for no reason back in the day because he thought he had said something to my mother he didn't like.  He was just a kid!  This guy is an overgrown (and I also mean overgrown as in "unkempt"--people think he's a homeless guy walking around LOL) man-child.  

And he loves my mother.  He was PISSED when we moved in here and thought I had stolen my mother away from him.  I think he has a crush on her.  He refuses to believe she's got dementia and thinks I am overreacting by not letting her do certain things (things her doctor said she can no longer do, like drive).  So he's a bad influence.  But maybe he won't come back over again.  I can only hope.  

When she does things like this, it's always right after I do something nice for her.  I bought her some apple drinks she likes and got everything on her list she asked for.  She didn't even know I bought her the apple drinks, it's like she has a sixth sense or something, as this always happens.  So, after I left her to go out and hang out with her homeless boyfriend, I took the apple drinks and put them away LOL  Because I am petty and it makes me feel better to not give her something special when she's being an asshole to me.  So there. 

I shouldn't have allowed her to bait me into arguing with her.  But she took me by surprise.  

And this is how I know all of her "good behavior" is just a fucking act.  Because the minute she can go back to her old self, she will.  The minute she is around someone who brings out that shitty side of her?  She immediately reverts.  She's not changed at all.  She's just not in an environment that she can play her stupid games so she doesn't play them.  It's like all the torture and hard work I've gone through for the past two years is gone in an instant and BAM!  She's back to being a total fucking asshole.  

I am serious when I say I don't want that man at our house ever again.  He's like toxic poison to our family.  Even if it had nothing to do with his own behavior, just having him in the presence of my mother makes her fucking crazy.  Just like her old, gossiping, asshole self.  I've come too far to let her slide back.  So, I am going to block his calls from our phone and ignore him when he stops by (if we're outside, I will say she's napping).  I mean, I can't literally outright tell him to stay away, but I can certainly do what I can to made it as little as possible.  I will say that, luckily, he normally doesn't call or stop by, so that's a plus.  I don't want to have to live my life managing who shows up at our house.  

I am very grateful most of my mother's friends have had nothing to do with her since she moved.  Goes to show they were just friends of convenience.  She lived near them, so she was easy to physically get to, so they kept her as a friend.  The minute she was out of there, they all dropped off the planet.  All except Christmas.  And she's the one my mother abused the most.  Which says a lot about her and her codependency.  But my mother leaving lets Christmas have other friends (most likely also narcissists), as when my mother lived behind her (like, across the alley), C would be at my mother's house every single day.  Now C can have a little variety in her life.  I just wish she knew how to recognize when her friends were assholes.  

But, my mother didn't smoke when she was out front with her buddy.  And she never apologized for what she said or mentioned it all.  Oh well.  I prefer her not to anyways.  I will just wait until she had another friend come over and I will bring it up and tell her how shitty it was she said that to me.  

People talk about being "grey rock" as though you're supposed to let these little babies get away with everything all the time.  But my old shitty therapist said one good thing to me: "Rate your mother's behavior from 1-10.  Anything 5 and over is worth bringing up.  Anything less than a 5 should get ignored.  That way, you save your sanity."  And that was definitely a 5.  It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't okay, either.  I didn't like that I let her bait me into a "conversation" about her smoking out front, but it should not go unsaid that she will have consequences if she does smoke out there (like, getting 2 less cigarettes the next day, etc.).  Then again, she wants me to be angry about it.  So, maybe I won't say anything.  I'll just implement the consequences if it happens.  I think that's a better idea, as bringing it up again for seemingly no reason--though if SHE brings it up, that's different.  Then I can remind her that there are rules for a reason.  

Ugh.  I just want to put her in a home and have some freedom again.  But also like my shitty therapist once said (okay, he said two good things) "This won't be forever.  Remember that."  I have to remind myself of that regularly.  But what a waste of time until then.  Ugh.  

Maybe she'll stop being so sassy soon and calm TF down.  We can only hope.  



 




If she hadn't had actually blamed me, she wouldn't have made such a big deal out of letting me know she didn't mean to blame me.  She wanted to make sure that I knew that she wasn't blaming me, and when I didn't listen (I was sick with an awful migraine and didn't want to listen to her babbling) she chased me around the house repeating herself.  Then she went into today and had to add it into our conversation, too.  Geezus fucking christ, she sure makes everything be about her.  It makes me want to scream. 

So, she thinks she's smart.  She thinks she can read things, like on the internet, and know things.  But her brain doesn't work, so she actually knows nothing.  She takes everything she reads wrong, but she still thinks that a) she's an expert and b) she can argue with me about everything, even though she's fucking wrong.  

"But Shay, why aren't you grey rocking it?"  Because, I am trying to explain to her how things like "blood sugar" and "blood pressure" work, and she misinterprets what she reads and thinks she's right.  So, I don't  argue with her, I just say "You are absolutely wrong and misunderstanding what you read".  She can't just trust me on things.  She thinks I know nothing and she had to prove she knows everything.  And I am just so fucking tired of it.  

I bought her pants. "These are wrong.  You bought petite and I normally don't get petite."  I answer "Well, did you try them on?  No?  Then there is zero reason to say anything to me about it at all.  If they don't fit, they don't fit.  What can I do about that other than return them?"  

I bought her moisturizer, it doesn't have SPF in it, but yet, she doesn't go out in the sun (which is what she even said), so what the fuck does that even matter?

I bought her three bags of red grapes.  She likes green grapes now (though she always likes both).  Now she's refusing to eat the red grapes.  SHE HAS NO SENSE OF TASTE AND HASN'T FOR YEARS!  So, tell me again how she prefers one over the other that you can't even taste??  I am no longer buying grapes for her if she refuses to eat these.  I am not wasting money on a spoiled brat.

If I make her dinner, do you know what would make this dinner better?  Insert some stupid ingredient here.  That's what she tells me.  Again, I will reiterate, SHE CANNOT TASTE ANYTHING.  So, why would I waste money on more stupid ingredients?  And they aren't just like normal things, they are expensive and annoying things.  Or I buy her expensive ass salmon and she says "I prefer the other flavor better, but this one is okay". 

This is the way of the jackass narcissist old woman.  They are never satisfied.  They are never happy with what you do.  They are always looking for the greener pasture.  The better way.  For whatever they can complain about.  And then, on top of it all, they think they fucking know everything.  

So, yesterday morning, my mother woke up dizzy, blurry vision, and all the symptoms of low blood pressure.  Well, the VA had messed up and didn't send her meds on time (they are still slow on two of the meds) and she missed a day of having her Metformin, which means two pills.  She woke up and her blood sugar was around 180.  And she said it was my fault because I've fed her too late for dinner.  I said that's absurd, rather than eating around 5-6, per usual, I fed her at 7 (two days in a row, and only because I was making her what I was cooking everyone).  I said that's not "eating too late", that's just eating later than usual, which would be more likely to cause low blood sugar than high, especially the next morning.  Also, the food I am usually feeding her?  Is not that high in carbs, either.  But see, she "read it on the internet" so it's right and I am wrong and it's my fault.  I said well, you're misunderstanding what you read on the internet.  But nope, she's still right.  But then I realized, what were we even talking about?  Her issues had nothing to do with high blood sugar.  They were low blood pressure symptoms (though I do know that some symptoms of those two overlap).  

So, I pressed her about her blood pressure.  She finally told me it was low and this and that and I said I will call the doctor and I left.  

5pm rolls around and they never called back, but I knew it was near her dinner time and so I got up and made her dinner.  Mind you, I woke up yesterday with a rager of a migraine, something I don't normally get anymore, and could barely be out of bed.  But I went in, cooked her up a burger, a sweet potato, and some cottage cheese (something quick and easy and I was actually done in less than 10 minutes).  And it was done before 5:10.  So I told her that her dinner was ready.  And that's when it started.  

"OH MY GOD!  YOU DID NOT HAVE TO MAKE IT SO EARLY!  I WASN'T BLAMING YOU!!"  I just ignored her because I was confused by what she was even referring to, but then I remembered what she said earlier and rolled my eyes.  My making her dinner at 5 had nothing to do with her.  I make her dinner that early quite a bit of the time.  But she wanted to make it be all about her, so she would not fucking stop harassing me about it.  

During this horrible headache, I had bit a of a intestinal issue at the same time, which made me feel utterly horrible (I have IBS).  So I was running to the bathroom over and over again, and every single FUCKING TIME I left the room, she started screaming it at me again.  As though it was the most important thing in the god damned world that I know she didn't blame me for her high blood sugar...EVEN THOUGH I already explained to her annoying ass that it was the VA fucking up her meds and it had nothing to do with what she was eating.  So, that gave me oodles more anxiety, which was so much fun.  I felt like a fucking prisoner in my own room, and also in the bathroom.  She even tried to walk in on me in the bathroom to tell me her stupid spiel!!  

I wonder if she knows just what a fucking nuisance she is with her narcissistic behavior?  I mean, she's better, but then there are days like yesterday when I want to fart in her face and run away from home.  

But today, she got me!  I checked her blood sugar and her blood pressure and she started in again and I said to her "What ARE you even talking about?  I feed you at that time or near it every single day!"  She replies "No, you've been giving me dinner around 7."  I glared at her.  "For TWO DAYS, ma!  Only two days!  Every other damned day I feel you between 5-6.  So, what are you even talking about?"  "Well, because I said..."  "Ma!  You weren't even sick because of your blood sugar!  It was your blood pressure!  The doc called back and said if you're high, and then it goes normal, you'll experience low blood pressure symptoms.  She said your pressures were not so low they need to change your meds.  So, none of this has anything to do with you eating at 7!"  She said "Oh, it was okay you fed me at 7."  

It was in this moment I just wanted to walk away and scream at the top of my lungs.  But I didn't.  I just called her bluff.  "I know that.  It's okay if you eat late once in awhile."  She replied "Oh, that's good.  Because...(insert the rest of her idiot story--aka lies, here)".  "Ma!  You are so freaking weird!  I don't even know what you're talking about!  Me feeding you at 5 had nothing to do with you at all!  Just drop it."  And I then shut her door and left.  

End scene.  

Yeah, I should have just walked away sooner, but she irritates me and I normally let her get away with being irritating and I say nothing, but there is a point when I can get my fill of just letting her get away with being annoying.  

If she didn't want me to think it was my fault, she wouldn't have been so adamant about it not being my fault.  The lady doth protest too much, methinks.  Shakespeare must have known my mother because she is the QUEEN of overacting.  I think he wrote this line for her.  

Here is the shitty thing: I have had blood sugar issues since I was a teen.  Not eating for almost two years will do that to you (I became anorexic in the 10th grade).  Eventually, your body is like "Oh, no food?  Well no blood sugar for you!!"  So, I've been prone to having passing out attacks when I don't get food or if I fast for too long.  And my mother knows this.  And back in the day when she used to be in charge of my life, she would make me run errands with her (she would literally make me go with her by offering to buy me groceries--which I desperately needed--and then telling me if I didn't go with her, I wouldn't get any groceries to feed my children) and she'd run me right through lunch time, which would make me feel like I was going to pass out.  To top it off, I have POTS, something I had no idea about, so that made it even worse.  And she knew I would feel sick as fuck (nausea, dizziness, etc.), and then she'd drop me off at home and let me drive her car and tell me specifically "My car is not allowed to go through drive-thrus!"  But by that point, I had no choice, as I was too sick to make anything myself and my children were too little to make food.  So, she'd give me her debit card to go get extra groceries (as she knew I had no money).  So I'd go to the grocery store, get a $1 item and get $20 cash back to go feed my family lunch.  I know it was assholey, but if I used her debit card to get food, she'd see and then punish me by not buying my family groceries next time.  Our foodstamps weren't enough to actually help us at the time, and were only make enough money to pay rent, and a couple of bills each month (which bill depended on which one was going to get shut off first).  Our first check of the month paid for rent, and we had $50 for the rest of two entire weeks.  I am not proud of what I did, but then again, I am.  She controlled my life with money.  And she knew she could do it, too.  Which is why she did it.  It was the only thing she could use to control us.  

Had she just brought me home before lunch time?  Or allow me enough time to get up and make something to bring with?  I would have eaten my own food (though, sometimes, I didn't have any, which she also was well aware of).  The worst part about it was that she KNEW how sick I'd feel, fucking with my blood sugar like that (I had hypoglycemia and reactive hypoglycemia), and she did not care one bit.  In fact, she did it on purpose to hurt me.  She wanted to feel like she had power.  And hurting me made her feel strong.  

And me, for two nights in a row, feeding her dinner late?  Did not make me feel powerful or happy or good.  My goal was not to hurt her.  My goal was to do something nice for her for once.  See, I always make her her own dinners.  They are basic, easy, and fast.  And they are food she prefers.  I try my best to make it lower carbohydrate and to make them well-rounded meals.  But once in awhile, I make her what I make the rest of my family.  I was making sausage lentil soup one night, and the next night I made hotdogs and brats on the grill (something she LOVES).  So, I included her in our dinner, which always take longer to make than her meals.  And it's never once messed with her blood sugar in the past.  If she's hungry beforehand, I'll give her a snack if it takes too long.  But the VA fucking up her meds just happen to coincide with my two late dinners and so she blamed me immediately for feeding her late (even though her symptoms were from her blood pressure and not her blood sugar).  

I just find it funny that both situations are about making someone wait to eat, both who have blood sugar issues, and the difference between the motivations for doing so.  I was trying to do something nice for her and she was trying to hurt me to benefit herself.  There is something so deeply sick in that.  A person who wanted to see their child suffer and not only not care, but do it in purpose.  To gain some kind of sick pleasure from doing so.  

That's the person I was adopted to.  That's the person who bought me like a package of baby parts, waiting to be molded into something like clay.  But then who realized I was not, in fact, empty, but my own person, but by then, it was too late to get a refund (though, today she says she would have given me back to the adoption agency if I had wanted to, no refunded needed!).  

Or maybe she bought me to abuse me.  Maybe she always knew that's exactly what she wanted?  Most likely not.  I don't think people fully realize who they are in any given situation until they are in that situation.  Yes, my mom's a sociopath, but I don't think for one moment she would have ever relished in hurting me if I were her little minion.  I think she loves hurting me because I am NOT her minion and I don't live my life for her.  I am different from her and she knows that deep down, I don't love her.  I care about her as I do any human being, but my actual love is saved for those who deserve it.  

And this?  Just another day to prove she doesn't deserve it. 









These questions come from this article, which is about the mother wound

How Journaling Can Heal the Mother Wound (dailyom.com)


I am going to journal them out here, but I did change the wording a bit from "child" to "children", as I am a big fan of IFS, and from that, I know we have "inner children", not just one "inner child".  So, here are my answers: 


1. When you were angry, scared, or sad as a child, who did you turn to?

I would like to say nobody, but that's simply not true.  As a kid, and even into adulthood until 2013 (when I started this blog), I did not realize who my biggest abuser was: my mother.  So, I always went to my mother, who always shut me down.  I was belittled, degraded, told I was oversensitive, or overreacting.  If I had an argument with anyone, she always took their side, no matter what.  She beat me down with her disapproval of me and my full existence.  Which is why I have such issues today with self-esteem.  And not only did she do it all on purpose, she liked hurting me.  She liked to see me feel like shit about myself.  It made her happy. 

2. When you were happy or proud as a child, who did you share those feelings with?

Again, my mother.  Again, who always shot me down.  She told me what I was happy about was not good enough.  She told me I wasn't worth these good things.  I could be so proud of myself over something, show my mother who should also be proud of me, only to have her say "Well, you didn't do the entire thing right, you missed something/did it wrong/etc.".  I wasn't allowed to ever say "I did a good job".  Yet, I still always thought that one day, she'd be a real mother and be proud of me, so I kept showing her and she just kept shooting me down.  She still does. 

3. When you needed advice or support as a child, who did you turn to?

I don't need to keep repeating myself here.  Same as above.  And her advice was always tell to tell me I was wrong or bad or stupid.  

4. What part of yourself was silenced as a child?

My happiness.  My truth.  My big heart.  My smiles.  My pain.  My sadness.  My goals.  My accomplishments.  My heartbreaks.  My sorrows.  My everything.

5. What part of yourself as a child was acceptable to your caregiver?

Any part that was doing as she wanted.  Any part that was perfect.  Which wasn't much.  But sometimes.  And usually by accident.  I eventually got to the point where I hated her approval, because I knew it was fake and only to benefit her.  

6. How did you get through hard times as a child? Who, if anyone, could you turn to?

Nobody.  I turned all my pain and fear inward, into unhealthy and harmful coping mechanisms, like panic attacks and depression. 

7. What do your inner children need most right now?

My inner children scream out for freedom.  They want a fucking break.  

8. What do your inner children need to say to your mother?

Nothing.  I am their mother now.  They understand their mother is sick in the head.  They know that every bit of how she treated them was not their fault and was all about how she was feeling in those moments.  They get it.  But they still suffer.  And they still have wounds and need to heal.  But they can bring those wounds to me instead.  I can help them heal.  My mother is incapable of doing anything at all.  

9. What do your inner children need to say to themselves?

They need to be reminded on a daily basis that they were cool, fun, smart, and awesome.  I would have been a good a mother to them if I had been their mother.  I would have recognized their worth.  I would have helped them chase their dreams.  And I still can.  

10. What are your inner children’s strengths and signs of resilience?

Children are not fucking resilient.  I wish people would quit saying that.  Kids are not fucking walls of steel.  They are great at masking their pain because they don't understand it.  That's not goddammed resilience.  That's denial.  That's burying their pain.  I am here to help them unearth it and deal with it.  As for their strengths?  They are creative, kind, loving, smart, introspective, fun, and brilliant.  Nobody, not a single person, ever recognized those things in any of them.  But I do.  I see it now.  And I love them the way they should have been loved back then.  

11. What are your inner children’s wounds and how can you care for them?

Do you have all day?  Wounds of emotional, physical, and spiritual neglect.  Wounds of being called names and shamed and disapproved of.  Wounds of existing.  Wounds of all types of abuse.  I could go on.  But I care for my inner children by letting them out to play and have fun and be themselves.  I fully accept them for who they are, wounds and all.  I work on bringing those wounds up to the surface to analyze them and mend them.  And when someone triggers me, I try to work through that pain, rather than stuff it back down to fester again.  I am also going to be starting my own in-person healing circle this summer which will encompass an array of different healing methods, one of which will be journaling.  I hope that helps, too.  


To me, this set of questions are a little basic and not exactly the questions I think I would be asking (or at least, not just these questions) to be working on healing.  Most people already know the answers to these, and need something deeper.  But as a start, it's alright.  Link me below if you answer them on your blog :)  

 


My mom thinks it's entertaining, cute, and funny to take everything she's pissed off about and put them into a big story that she has to repeat over and over again to many people, as though the story is clever or funny.  She has no brain capacity to make up any other stories, other than about her cats.  But this time?  She took all her complaints and then included my cat in her big story.  And I didn't even let her finish.  

Her: Hey you guys, do you have a minute to listen to something?  You have to stay in the room to hear the entire thing!

My hubby is doing the dishes and I am cleaning the floor in the kitchen.  Her friend was coming over and the kitchen was a mess from the night before so I wanted to clean up before her friend came over.  

Hubby: *under his breath* Here we go again.

Her: So, I woke up this morning and was completely out of cigarettes.  

Me: *under my breath* Why are we talking about this?

The night before, I forgot to put her cigarettes out (I make them for her and forgot to make them the day before, even though I haven't forgotten in weeks).

Her: I didn't dare wake you guys up, so I had one single cigarette I had leftover from the night before.

Hubby: So, you were fine then?

Her: Not, really (she says in a shitty tone of voice). 

Me: But you got your cigarettes this morning, right?  So you are fine now?  So, why are we talking about me forgetting to put your pack out last night?

Her: Anyways, so I didn't know what to do with myself so I said to the cat (my cat) "Hey, let's go eat some breakfast instead!"  And lo and behold, I opened the cabinet and (and in an incredulous voice) all my cereal was gone!  I think the kids ate it all!"

Me: Why was your cereal in the kitchen?  

Her: Well, the kids were on their diet before, so I didn't think I had to hide it.

Me: But you're supposed to keep all the random food that you want to make sure nobody eats in your room so nobody eats it.  If it's in the kitchen, nobody knows it's specifically yours.  So, that's your fault.  It should be in your room. (she LOVES to put food where the kids can get into it and then complain they ate it all--she used to do this at her old house with candy)

Her: Well, I knew they were off their diet, but I didn't think they'd eat it.

Me: So, you knew that they could eat carbs and left your cereal in the communal cereal cabinet?  Again, that's your fault.  So, you're entire story is all about you complaining that either I didn't do something for you the moment you wanted it done or that the kids ate all your food?  Why are you telling this story?  You're just looking for a cute way to complain (I say, as I leave the room and shut my bedroom door).  

Her: I am not complaining!  I was laughing!  (she leaves and goes outside to smoke)


End Scene. 


This is how my mother tells stories and has since the dawn of time.  And by stopping her, she won't repeat it again, thank goodness.  It's so ridiculous that she thinks that we don't see right through her little game.  But, I called her out on her shit and she shut up.  So, that was nice.  

How freaking annoying. 

Then I went to the store and bought her FIVE boxes of cereal and threw it on her bed.  Also, 3 HUGE boxes of her favorite oatmeal.  Now she can shut up and eat with the cat in peace.  




If I have to hear this phrase one more time out of her mouth, she's going to get an earful.  I am so tired of it.  I remind her to do (or not do) things because a) she has dementia and constantly forgets things, and b) she just doesn't give a shit about remembering anything I ever ask of her, and will no do the things I ask just out of spite because she doesn't like to be told what to do.

"Did you lock the door?"  We lock the back door (and front door) constantly since we have a dog who likes to open the doors and run away.  She will lie and say the kids left it unlocked (remember, they are adults), even though they were sleeping.  Or she will make a huge deal out of going back and checking it and saying "Okay, better check the door now or else I will get in trouble!"  Yet, I have never once yelled at her about, well, pretty much anything.  

"You smell like cigarettes, so please go to your room until you air out."  I am very sickened by the smell of smoke and nobody in our house can stand just how pungent this woman is after smoking (she will pick the cherry off her cigarettes-the lit end-which makes her fingers STINK, which makes all of her STINK).  This has been the rule since DAY ONE and she still gets angry with me about it.  It's been three years now.  Three fucking years and I am still having to tell her to do this.  If I don't, she will putter around to see just how long she can get away with stinking up the kitchen or living room.

"You need to shut your bedroom door, remember?  And keep it closed so the dogs don't get in there and eat all your cat food (that she keeps on the floor).  Also, so your cat doesn't get hurt because the dog hates him.  Remember?"  She'll get a hair up her ass and leave it open for absolutely no reason (today she even propped it open with a dirty blanket).  Her cat has stalked my dog and chased him down and attacked him and now the dog will try to attack him when he sees him.  This has created even more issues in our house because my mother will take this cat, who weights like 15lbs btw, and put him under her shirt and try to carry him in while the dog is in the kitchen.  The cat is a FREAK.  He has ripped my mother to shreds before over being scared of a door closing loudly.  So, having a dog who wants to eat him right there in the same room?  She makes horrible decisions that put her cat, herself, my dog, and us all at risk.  That cat will be finding a new home soon.  What kind of cat attacks dogs for no reason??  Like I said, he's a total freak.  And having him in this house, along with my mother, isn't safe for anyone.  But she likes to leave her bedroom door open so the dog comes in, tries to hurt her cat or eat all the catfood, and then she can bitch about it.

"Please don't touch my things in the living room."  I will go shopping, usually for groceries, and leave my bags in the living room, and she would go through them.  And I think she still does, thinking nobody can see her.  But now my son's room is the living room because our basement flooded and she wouldn't dare.  Also, she used to go in the living room and "clean" it, but move all my stuff around and put it places so I couldn't find it.  But again, my son's room is now in there, so she will leave it alone until we leave here.  Hopefully.  


These are the things I may remind her of on any given day.  I don't say any of them daily, nor do I get on her case about anything other than the not leaving the room after she's smoked.  But when I do remind her of any of these, her answer to me is always the same: 

"Yes ma'am" she'll reply in a shitty tone of voice.  

Recently, she's been saying it a LOT.  But recently, she's been coming in from smoking and fucking around in the house and then pretending I am hurting her feelings by telling her to go away.  "Ma, you smell like cigarettes, you need to go in your room!"  "Yes ma'am.  Sigh.  She KNOWS she's supposed to leave, but doesn't care.  She goes through this defiance with her smoking when she's feeling saucy.  Trying to push her boundaries with me.  The next time she says yes ma'am to me, I am going to let her know that I am doing her a favor by letting her smoke at all.  She COULD be living in a nursing home that doesn't allow smoking.  So, she needs to remember this rule or else get less cigarettes until she does.  Granted, I won't actually cut her cigarettes down, as I've gotten her down to 13 from 20.  But that doesn't mean I can't let her believe I would.  

I have other rules for her.  Granted, they aren't ongoing, as most have been resolved.  But none without a fight.  Like, a "bothering me every single day for months on" fight until I scream at her to stop asking me to do it.  Some of these rules are unspoken, but they are still the rule even so.  Remember, these are over a span of 3 years.  


"Please ask before you take my things and use them for yourself." She loves to take my things, especially outdoor items, and never once ask my permission, even though they aren't hers, and use them for whatever she likes and put them somewhere to keep them from me, as if she's marking her territory.  One time?  She stole my cart, the kind you use for shopping at a flea market, and put a bag in it and used it for dog poop!!!  This week, she grabbed my fencing I have for around my hostas so nobody mows them over and put it around her plants for absolutely no reason.  So I took it back, rolled it up and put it in the garage (which is a total and horrible mess right now).  So, what did she do?  Got into the garage and climbed over a bunch of shit (she's a fall risk, don't forget) and stole it back!!  So, I took it back again, rolled it back up and put it back in the garage, and then took the garage doorknob and turned it around so it locks from the inside.  She has no access to the garage anymore.  Like I've said before: if she plays games with me, I take away her access to things rather than keep on playing her game.  She could have REALLY hurt herself climbing around shit in the garage.  Only a total crazy person who has her bodily health issues would do such a thing.  And I can't believe she did it.  So, now she no longer can.  

"Don't clean my bathroom.  Only clean your own bathroom."  This has been a battle since day one.  She needs to learn to let go of the control she thinks she has over my items.  Back in the day she'd run her happy little ass in there with bleach, something I could not breath in (I have chemical sensitivities) which she knew about, and clean the whole thing, making me sick and giving me migraines.  So, the rule stood, no cleaning that bathroom.  She did anyways, whenever she liked.  Eventually, I did yell at her enough and she quit.  That is until Thanksgiving 2022, when she used my ER visit and subsequent severe pain to use my predicament against me to do whatever she liked.  We came back from somewhere and I found her in my bathroom, spraying it all sorts of bullshit, so I told her, in a calm voice, to stop what she was doing and get out of my bathroom.  She blew up and started screaming, so I went into the bathroom to use it and she slammed the door into my back.  The pain I was in was from my Mirena IUD causing a HUGE cyst on my ovary, which only hurt in my back.  So I turned around and shut the door on her, but she was pushing it open on me again and screaming and I was holding the door shut on her.  I should have called 911.  I don't know why I didn't.  But I should have and had her committed for a bit.  She was being an irate lunatic and later referred to it as just "being crabby".  Because narcissists love to downplay their violence.  Anyways, this was around 6 months ago and I hope she'll never try to clean that bathroom again.  But knowing her, she will just forget about it all go in there and do whatever she likes one day soon.  

"Don't use mop the kitchen as the floor is laminate and has a horrible film over the entire thing if you mop it.  Instead, you have to spot clean it." She recently mopped the floor on her hands and knees with a washcloth and a bucket.  I was PISSED because the floor looked like total shit.  She hasn't done it since, but if I find her doing it again, I am taking away what little cleaning supplies she has left.  

"Leave the backyard light on, always."  We have a HUGE backyard and we have coyotes out there beyond the fence (which is short).  So, I don't want cats or dogs going out if we see one out back.  But you can't see the in freaking dark.  Also, it's just safer to have a light on at night.  Duh.  All the houses around here are sitting ducks in the pitch black dark, just waiting for people to rob them.  But my mother thinks she's invincible and thought I was being an idiot for leaving the light on.  She also thought I was an idiot because I required the back door to be locked all night, too.  Plenty of times I would wake up and find my mother had been out smoking and refused to lock the door after she came in, both front and back.  So, I banned her from smoking out front and made a HUGE sign for the back to lock the door.  Eventually, when she refused to leave the light on enough times, I just ducktaped that motherfucker into the "on" position" and put a sign "do not touch" on it.  Boy, that made her mad, but that light has been on ever since.

"Don't leave the full garbage bag on the kitchen floor.  The dogs will get into it and you'll have to clean it up."  Cause I sure won't, because I didn't leave it there.  Eventually, she refused to follow this rule enough times (until actually recently), so now the rule is she can't remove the garbage bag from the bin anymore.  Period.  Or take out the recycling.   I wrote on the fridge with dry erase marker pointing to both, so she remembered the rule that she's not allowed to remove the garbage bag or recycling bag.  This makes her angry, but it relieves so many issues for us all, as for one, I'd have to pick through our HUGE recycling bin throwing away garbage she'd throw in there.  

"You are not allowed to do the dishes."  This was a fight to get her to stop doing.  Like, for almost 6 straight months.  Now she doesn't say a word about it.  Her dementia made her put away dirty dishes without washing them and once she dug the scrubbie I threw away out of the garbage and used it to wash dishes.  The idea of that makes me want to vomit.  I honestly wondered where we got this HORRIBLE stomach bug two years ago, like we were all puking (all but my hubby).  And I honestly wonder today if it had something to do with what she did with our dishes.  Maybe, maybe not.  But still, I am glad I put a stop to that nonsense.  

"You are not allowed to cook, especially not holiday meals."  She's got dementia and can't cook anymore.  But holidays, she's full of piss and vinegar and when she cooks or takes part in the holiday cooking, she's HORRID and abusive, so she's banned from it.  Now?  She refuses to even acknowledge any holidays at all and stays in her room all day and only comes out to eat.  Which is total fucking bliss.  

"You are not allowed to go for walks by yourself, go in the basement unless it's an emergency, or drive."  All of these are because she's a fall risk.  And the fall risk is because she walks sideways and can't see straight.  She hates these rules and used to even go for walks alone when we left the house (something she told me about later) just to prove she could.  But these are to keep her safe.  I have a lock on the basement door to keep her out and on the living room door so she can't go out front alone.  She can go out the back all she likes and cannot access the front from the back.  In case of a fire, she has plenty of space to get away from the house in the back if for some reason we weren't home.  

"You are not allowed to take out the garbage, bring the cans in, or get the mail."  She broke her wrist getting her garbage cans once.  So, I use the idea of her safety as the reason I don't let her do these things.  But in actuality, it's all for the mail.  She steals my mail, she gets ads for bullshit and she tries to buy everything, she gets ads for life insurance and tries to buy it all, etc, etc.  So, I told her it was dangerous for her to walk out to get the mail or the garbage cans without a walker.  She refuses to use her walker, so the problem seemed to fix itself.  But when she refused to stop getting the garbage bins, I locked the bins together so she could not move them with a bike chain (the bins are by the mailbox when brought out--so if she could get them, she could get the mail).  When she refused to stop getting the mail, I stopped the mail from coming to our house for two weeks and lied and told her I now get all my mail at the post office instead.  After we started getting our mail again, she forgot all about the mail and never asked to get it again.  Although she still steals it if she finds it in the house, so I have to be careful to keep in my room.  Even the recyclable garage mail I have to keep in a recycle bag in my room, or else she'll go through it and steal it.

"You are not allowed to roll your own cigarettes".  I bought a machine to make her cigarettes as it's WAY cheaper to make them than to buy them premade.  The machine isn't cheap and if I gave her free reign over making them herself, she would not only be smoking two packs a day, she'd eventually break the machine.  She bothered me for almost a fucking year over this one.  SHE wanted complete control over her cigarettes.  And I refused.  I eventually told her if she asked me again, I would never buy her anymore, ever.  She still didn't quit, but like everything, she got bored and wandered off and forgot all about it.  And now I have her down to a little over a half a pack a day instead of a full pack.  All by cutting her cigarettes down by one every other week.  It seems as though 13 is her threshold, but that's okay.  It's better than 20.  

"You have to wash your hands when you come home from the store or the doctor's office."  To this day, she still says "But I used hand sanitizer."  Yes mom, but you also touched a shit ton of things afterwards, like chairs and doors and whatevers.  And you refuse to not touch your fucking face when you go places, even though I keep telling you to stop.  And, you used to be a goddamned CNA for Pete's sake, and you KNOW you're supposed to wash your goddamned hands!!!  But not her.  She thinks we're stupid for asking to do it.  And she wonders why I don't take her places.  

"You're not allowed to go to the grocery store, the dollar stores, or pretty much anywhere but the resale shops and even then sparingly."  My mother is a fucking spendoholic and if I let her go to the store, she will grab every piece of candy she sees, every cleaner with bleach she sees, and every comforter known to man she sees, and fill up her fucking cart and act like she's in charge of the money.  One time, at a nursery, she picked out $130 worth of stupid-ass plants and expected me to buy them for her.  It was insane.  I was sooooooooo angry she put me on the spot in front of strangers, forcing me to say yes, and pouting when I started to say no.  So, after that, I limited her outings.  Then she went with us to Walmart and picked out boxes and boxes of really expensive donuts and around $50 worth of candy, and all sorts of bullshit ass cleaners.  So, I made her to go the car with my husband and took her cart and put everything back and had to make up some crap when I got home as to why her stuff wasn't there.  I let her keep some stuff, but all the shitty stuff, I put back.  And that was the last time she was allowed at Walmart.  Then I took her to the resale shop and she spent another $130, and that was it.  I was done.  I haven't taken her to go shopping since.  And now?  We've been able to save money ever since.  And she never asks to go with anymore, except every now and then.  Thank freaking goodness.  Now, when she wants something?  She writes it down and I buy it for her.  I pretty much buy her whatever she wants, whenever she wants it (other than really insane things, but those things are few and far between anymore ).  She never even wants to go shopping, as all her needs are being met.  She is a avid reader, so I go to the resale shops every other week and stock up on books for her.  Recently, I bought her around 10 Harlan Coben and related books (she recently found out she loves his books) that I am holding onto to give her when she'd done with the last batch I bought her.  She's going to be super excited.  She has no need for random shopping trips anymore.  I've broken her of her addiction to spending money she doesn't have (she used to not even be able to pay for her rent or other bills--one even being a $40,000 life insurance policy she just let go because she kept spending all her money on bullshit).  And it's nice to see her in a space that doesn't include shopping as a hobby anymore. 


I have had other small rules I've had to implement, but none more pressing than these.  Like "don't put citrus peels in the compost" and shit like that, as she kept doing it.  But that stuff is small stuff.  And today, 3 years later, she's following most of my rules to the point they aren't even rules anymore.  And know, I don't make rules to control her just for fun.  I have to both corral the crazy, and at the same time keep her safe.  But some of my rules?  Are just for me.  Like the smoking thing.  Which is why, even earlier today, this is still an issue with her.  As she DOES NOT CARE about anything that's for me.  It's like her one last stand against the tyranny that is the time that is ravaging her brain and body.  And me.  The tyranny of me.  The person tasked with taking care of her and making sure she's not hurting herself.  That little rebellious asshole.  So, much fucking fun.  "Yes ma'am."  Damn straight.  I once told her that her parents didn't raise her right and now it's my turn to be her parent and make her be the person they should have made her be back then.  That was in December of 2022.  And I meant it.  So maybe I should take that as a compliment?  She sees me as her mother.  So, maybe I should just respond "And don't you forget it."  





So, my mother asked me to buy her expensive facial moisturizer.  I bought her Ponds instead.  I don't see the reason to buy expensive stuff, especially for someone with skin that doesn't need help.  She's old and pockmarked with acne scars.  And she doesn't actually wash her face that much.  Like, ever.  So, the need for moisturizer doesn't make sense to me at all, but to buy one that costs so much money is just plain silly.  

But see, my mother has ideas.  These ideas get stuck in her head.  And she thinks because they are her ideas, they are truth.  As a person with ASD, I get it.  But as a frugal person taking care of someone with narcissism, I don't honestly care.  Rude, I know.  But she is more than just rude to me.  So I don't care.  I will never be mean (not on purpose).  But rude?  Sure!  Though, usually I am not rude to her face, just internally.

So, her ideas go like this: 

  • I will die without caffeine! (she thinks she thrives on coffee and can't drink anything else, not even water).  So, one day, after her doctor told her she had to quit caffeine I switched her to decaf and she never noticed.  Not even once.  Not until she pretended to have a migraine due to caffeine withdrawal because she ran out of coffee and I laughed at her.  Okay, I was rude that day to her face.  But it was ridiculous.  She was really playing it up, too.  Holding her head, moaning, pretending like someone who was acting like they had a headache.  But the minute I told her it was decaf, she perked right up and was completely fine.  How miraculous!
  • I have only ever used that brand and will only ever use that brand until the day I die! (she thinks if she uses something other than what she normally uses, she will not only hate it, but it won't work at all--this goes for soap, beauty products, etc.)  This is in reference to her face cream, but also her hand cream and everything else she uses.  She REFUSES to try other things unless I force her.
  • Diet soda tastes like prunes and I hate it!  (she's diabetic and refuses to drink anything diet--she says they ALL taste like prune juice, yet she doesn't have a sense of taste).  So, I buy her diet soda and rip off the parts that say "ZERO" on the label.  If I can't, I rip off the entire label.  She's never once caught on.  And she never complains about the taste.  This cracks me up.  And she still doesn't know.
  • I will only eat at one restaurant and one restaurant only! (though she would ask you which one you'd like to eat at on your birthday but still only take you to the one she prefers)  She doesn't do this anymore, as we stopped eating out with her years ago due to her bad behavior.
  • I am right.  And you are wrong no matter what, because I think I am right! (she cannot and will not accept anyone else's answer to anything if she thinks she's right...though sometimes if you push hard enough she will back down, but not always).  The funny part is that she is always wrong.
  • I could go on with all sorts of asinine things, but I will leave it at these for now, but more may come later.  
She gets stuck in her own thinking and refuses to do anything any different.  EVER.  And when I do buy her something different, she always throws a fit.  Which is usually why I don't tell her.

So, the brand she wanted, she didn't get and then she comes at me with her bottle of $6 Ponds that I got her (it's a great product, btw). 

Her: "By the way, is this for my hands?"

She knows it's facial moisturizer, it says it right on it.  

Me: I point the words and say "No, it's for your face." 

Her: "Oh, in that case know that the kind I asked for has SPF in it." 

Me: "Yes, but your brand costs $15.  I am not buying it.  This works great.  Plus, we have plenty of sunscreen."

Her: "Well, it's okay it's that expensive, it lasts me around five years."

Me: "YUCK!  You can't use anything on your skin that is that old!  Gross!"

Her: "It works fine."

Me: "The SPF is certainly expired at least."

Her: "Well, I don't even go out in the sun so I don't even need that part."  

Um, what?  I thought the entire reason why the Ponds wasn't okay was because HER brand has SPF?  This was the entire reason she thought she could bitch at me about this.

Me: "Well, then you don't need your brand, do you?  And the Ponds will work just fine."  


And with that, she walked away and put herself into her room because she proved her argument silly, all by herself.  

And that's how you outsmart a narcissist.





Last week on March 31st, there was outbreak of over 123+ tornadoes spawning in the Midwestern, Southern, and Eastern parts of the United States.  We had one in our town, as well as two more very nearby.  One of the nearby ones tore the roof off a business and killed at least one person and injured many more.  

We all knew this was coming days in advance.  The storms in our town came late, though.  My oldest son and I were outside when it hit.  It was green and quiet and silent.  And them BOOM!  The winds came on like a beast and we ran inside.  Then the tornado sirens started screaming and we all got the dogs in the basement, and my youngest son grabbed his computer.  And off we went.  

And where do you think Miss Priss (aka YOSS: Ye Old Salty Seahag--just kidding, it's Stinky Seahag, as she always smells like cigarettes) was?  In her room, refusing to come downstairs and acting like were overreacting and were fools to be running downstairs like bunch of jerkoffs.  My husband screamed at her to get her ass to the basement, and she finally went.  Way to make it all about you, YOSS.  

Once down there, she acted like more of an asshole, pretending like it was all just one big lark.  While just a few miles away a man died because a roof was torn off a building and caved in on him.  Yeah.  Totally overreacting here.  

Then comes Monday (this was Friday night) and she said to my husband as he was heading to work, "What are we going to do without you if you need to take us to the basement again?"  in a snarky voice.  In his head was thinking "FUCK YOU", because who cares that a man died because of this storm, my husband was overreacting putting her in the basement.  Also, by making us take extra time to get her down there?  She was putting our lives at risk, too.  

The next time that she fights us on it?  She's staying upstairs.  

In 2020, my husband I drove through an actual tornado right by our house.  It didn't completely touch down, but mostly, and it was nuts.  We could have easily died.  It's not a game, when you live in places where this happens.  But my mother treats it like it is.  But this is because she's a badass, didn't you know that?  Badasses can do what they want!  They can put themselves in all sorts of danger and be fine.  I don't get that mentality.  I don't get where it stems from.

But maybe the next time a tornado comes it can take the Wicked Witch back to her homeland??  Since she's so adamant about not giving a shit about her own safety.