Let me give you some history on birthdays around our house. Mother controls them as much as she possibly can, and now that she can't, she tries to ruin them in other ways. And this almost goes for all parties she's involved with, not just birthdays. Here are some examples:
Blustery. Yes, that's the word that describes today perfectly. It's very windy outside, dark and bleak, with a slight chill. All the leaves are falling from the trees. Typical October anymore: the leaves turn and then immediately fall before you can take pictures of them. Today is laundry day. Mother's laundry basket was by her door, filled with various items, such as clothes, underwear, and towels. She won't keep her towels in the bathroom. She doesn't keep much of anything of hers in there, preferring to keep her stuff in her room. Which is odd, that her stuff isn't there but she insists on rearranging everything all the time. So I had enough the other day and took everything of mine out of there and put it in my room. Sounds childish, but I never can find my stuff, and I prefer that nobody puts my stuff anywhere but me. She was surprised by this, but I had to do it. And now the bathroom closet is pretty much bare. Not sure what to do about that, but for now, this is the way it is.
I woke up in extreme pain. Not sure why. I could barely move my upper body and it made me feel like I had a horrible migraine, though I don't. It's just muscular. But that doesn't make it any less painful. This is me. It's who I am. The woman in pain most days. Why? I assume stress. Maybe it's my ACEs catching up with me? If I push myself too hard some days, I'll wake up hurting everywhere. But sometimes I can push myself too hard and be in no pain at all. Doesn't make any sense. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason to these cycles. Maybe it's a fibro flare? Maybe it's Sjogrens (something I suspect I have)? I've been having massive dryness in my hands and feet and lips and mouth and getting frequent nosebleeds lately. And I've also been hydrating. But who knows. Doctors are notorious for not diagnosing you properly for years on end, so we'll see what comes of that. If anything.
I take her laundry basket, and she catches me and asks me to wait while she grabs her PJs to throw in. She isn't allowed on the basement steps, as she can barely walk without falling normally. It was a huge fight for so long, something that stressed me out unbelievably at the time. She's quit now. Especially since our staircase just recently broke and my oldest son almost fell through it. So my husband and I just paid for it to be replaced yesterday. Another strange issue is that all of these big issues keep happening and we keep paying for them and she never once reminds me to take half from her. I mean I do, but it's just odd she's not reminding me that we are not expected to pay for these things all by ourselves. Recently we had a tire blowout and had to get a new tire, and some thing in our engine needed to be replaced. All of which we paid for. I do not tell her "Hey, I'm talking half for this from you" because then she'll say "Well, I don't drive" or "I don't use the basement", as a joke, but I assume deep down she's being for real. So I just take when I do the bills and she never says anything about it. It's a strange situation to be in. And she checks her bank regularly, so it's not like she doesn't realize it. It still feels really odd.
Even though I'm in pain and feel terrible (my allergies are causing me to feel like I have a cold, so I also feel very run down), I still do her laundry. I still cook dinner practically every day (yesterday we had take out as I was busy all day). I stock the fridge daily with her water bottles (she refuses to drink out of my Brita pitcher). I shop for all groceries each week. I run her errands. I order her meds. I make her doctor's appointments. I fired her from washing dishes because I am constantly eating soap because she doesn't rinse them properly (she was really angry about that the other day). I pay all the bills (not financially, we pay half, but I am the person who pays them each month). I am always telling her no to her ideas, because her ideas are either gross or insane (her latest idea is to put a cat litter in her room, which will make the entire house smell like cat piss, and she doesn't care...even though my husband and I clean the cat litters in the basement and buy ALL the litter, even though she has five cats and we have two, and she has no reason to have a cat litter in her room, as they all use the basement litter). I am basically her mother. And that's how she treats me.
Actually, she treats me as though I am a live-in worker. I am not her family to her. I am not her daughter. I am the person in control who she has to ask to do things and throw a fit when I say no. Today, she was pulling our lawn chairs up from the firepit, where my family sits around the fire, and I caught her and said "What are you doing?" For one, she's already asked about getting the chairs, and I said leave them, that's where we sit. And for two, she's not supposed to be walking through the backyard without support (there are lots of holes she can fall in and twist her ankles or break another rib) and she's especially not supposed to be traipsing through the backyard pulling furniture around. She doesn't listen and does whatever she wants because she doesn't care about her own well-being (never has, never will). So I have to be the one who catches her making stupid choices and tell her "Stop that." And today, she screamed "FUCK IT!" after I said to leave it alone (in a nice tone, I do not yell at her) and left the chair in the middle of the yard.
So yes. Today is a blustery day.
I've said it a hundred times, but she treats my husband like her family. She treats my kids like her family. But not me. Never once has she asked me what I'm working on or what I'm up to. She always asks my husband and kids what they're doing. She'll go around, ask them, then when she gets to me, it's always a demand that I do something for her. "Oh, yeah, don't forget, I need (insert something here)". It's a blatant disregard for me, and she wants everyone to see it and know it. Especially me.
Another thing she's taken to doing is interrupting me. Like mid-sentence. She claims it's because if she doesn't say what she needs to say she'll forget. Which is true. But I'll restart what I'm saying and she'll interrupt again. And when I look back at my old journals and blogs, I realize she's always done this. It has nothing to do with her dementia as she claims it does. And then there's the fact she doesn't interrupt anyone else. Well, not as much as she does me anyways.
I am working on changing my perception of her behavior from "Why are you such an asshole me, in particular?" to "What would I say say if this person had dementia?" Because she does. More so, I will stop when she says something that irks me and think "Pretend this comment is caused by dementia. How should I respond?" Even if the comment clearly isn't coming from that, it's my perception of the comment, remark, or action that matters. Because right now, I take instant offense and it stresses me out. So I need to stop letting her make me feel small and ashamed of myself and who I am. Because that's her goal. And I need to stop caring. But it's easier said than done. But I've changed my thinking many times in the past and eventually, I changed to the point I no longer thought the negative stuff anymore. So I know I can do it now, too.
Today's blustery weather is also laced with a slight bit of warmth. It's a unique feeling, to see Mother Nature try her damnedest to make today suck, but something just isn't letting it completely through. Something is taking the grossness of it all and making it slightly nice. Nice enough to enjoy walking around barefoot (which is what I was doing earlier). And that's what I'm trying to do here. I can't make her nice to me. I can't make her love me. I can't make her treat me with respect or even kindness. But I can change my attitude towards it all. I can find compassion for myself enough to change how I take her bullshit.
If I could only cure my pain and allergies. But one thing at a time, right?
UPDATE: My pain turned into a massive migraine. I was literally in bed all day. My mother got upset with me for being sick and tried to guilt me about not being up at 6pm to make dinner for her. "Can you go get my laundry from the basement?" she asks in a quiet and fake sad voice (really the voice was anger, but she loves to mask her anger and pretend she's sad so we feel bad for her, which never works). "I'm just going to go to bed." I said it's 6pm, isn't she going to eat? She shrugs and says "Meh" and just walks away. She opened my bedroom door earlier (I have a lock now, but I don't use it when I'm sick so I don't have to get up to open the door for anyone) to see if I was sleeping because her TV went out (she has a Fire Stick and I have a Flex, both our TV's went out at the same time) and this upset her to see I was sleeping because she wanted to watch TV. The funny part is that five adults live in this house. But somehow, I am the live-in servant and she can only ask me to do these things for her. I never take naps (she takes like three a day) so obviously I was sick. But zero compassion for me at all, per usual. If it was anyone else she'd be all like "Oh I am so sorry you don't feel well!" So I got her laundry and put it by her door and went back to bed, because now my head was excruciatingly horrible from climbing stairs during a migraine. So I tried to do what I said above, to see her as "someone with dementia" and not someone who should have compassion for me, but it did not work and I was pissed as hell, which made my headache worse. Hubby went to Little Cesear's for dinner, because I could not cook and she was perky and awake when she found out dinner was there. So sweet. Then she complained that I got to eat in my room and blah blah blah and I was just trying to stay present and not dwell on her crap so I could feel better.
Anyways, so the kids (I say kids, but I mean my kids who are adults LOL) restarted the internet, my TV started working, then my youngest son went and fixed her TV (restarted her Fire Stick) and all was well with that. Then she was happy and not trying to guilt me anymore, but damn if I could just detach from her behavior and not take her shit personally. Because it's so much easier said than done. Especially when I am really feeling HORRIBLE and she's being a bitch about not getting what she wants because of it. Like, how dare I be sick?? She needs shit done!
If I learned one thing from my therapist, it's to stand up for myself when I have had enough, rather than be quiet. Because this is my life and I don't have to spend it being pissed or depressed just because she wants to be mean to me. So next time my hubby has a migraine and she acts all compassionate (which is fake) to him about it, I may speak up to her and say "Oh wow, you sure mother him nicely. Too bad you don't do the same for me." Maybe I'll say that. Maybe.
My therapist is a nice guy. At first, I didn't really care for him, because it was awkward getting to know him. He'd always give me "homework" then promptly forget the next session what my homework was. Or he'd remember something from someone else and not me (and for some reason, I never corrected him...it's that whole "doctor/patient" thing, I have issues saying stuff because I'm afraid of pissing them off). And since the first two sessions, he's been pretty cool. He's given me great coping techniques for dealing with my mother, one being to rate all her behaviors from 1-5, 1 being minor and 5 being major. Then anything three or below, it's not worth getting upset over. I find that when I do this, most of the stupid issues I'm getting upset about are a zero.
But our last two sessions really bugged me because two sessions ago, it was on my father's 20 year deathaversary, and he didn't a) say he was sorry for my loss or anything like that or b) didn't bring him up at all. I tried, but he wouldn't listen to me, and my mother takes up so much of my life usually, that I don't have time to talk about much else. I really wish he would have brought up my father that day (not now, because it's not relevant). I did try to talk about him to my therapist, quite a bit actually, but instead, he veered the conversation to the present. Which really bothered me (I know, I should bring this up to him).
But then yesterday happened. I get therapists are people. And people have ideas. But at the same time, I get the gist that my therapist likes to feel like he's being helpful when he's just not. Granted, how can he know unless I tell him? I mean, I do try to backtrack when he goes off on a tangent, and much of the time I try to correct him, but I always get the feeling that he thinks I'm making excuses for whatever it is he thinks is going on at the time.
But yesterday? Wow. It was like I wasn't even there. I was telling him how my anxiety was on an upswing again, which is how my anxiety works. I get better for a bit, and then it comes back, and so forth. It'll go back and forth like that all the time. It always has. Sometimes there is a reason (like now, it's my allergies: when my nose gets stuffed, I get anxious because I feel like my breathing is off). I've been having trouble driving again, but not as bad as usual. And for some reason, hearing me say all this he went off on a tangent. "So, what I am hearing is that, you are doing too much, and that's causing you stress, which is causing your anxiety to get worse." Um, what? He thinks I have too much on my plate, that I have to do everything, and it makes me stress out which makes me anxious. Oh geezus. Has he been listening to me at all these past few months? First of all, I've been majorly stressed out since the summer of 2018. The fall of 2018 was the absolute WORST for my stress (as we'd become homeless) and my anxiety got better. Not because the stress made me forget to be anxious, but because I was manually forced it to. I found Buddhism, and used mindfulness techniques constantly and for the first time in 10 years, I could drive again. And I kept getting better after that. And my stress levels? Have only got worse.
He knows all of this. Stress doesn't cause my anxiety. Yes, it can exacerbate it at times, but only when I'm already having it. I've lived with my mother for almost six months now, and my anxiety levels haven't changed until the past two weeks (it was triggered by a driving event that caused me to have a horrible panic attack...though, it was starting a tiny bit before that, due to my allergies, but the driving event made it kick into overdrive).
And the whole "doing it all" stuff, that came out of left field. I never talk about having to do it all. And there I sat, like a codependent little robot trying to find ways to agree with him. "Um, I guess so...I mean, I do the laundry once a week and cook every night....so, um, I guess so?" I wish I had the self confidence to stop him and say "Whoah, you're way off base here" but then I am so scared he'll say back "Am I though?" And then think I am just being stubborn.
Here's my issue with therapists: most are narcissists (just like people, because, well, they are people and narcs are attracted to jobs that give them power over others). I've met WAY too many narc therapists and every single one didn't listen to me. And when I did stand up for myself, and say "no" to whatever it was they were saying, they either didn't listen to me, didn't believe me, or got upset and punished me (just like my mother). They trigger me with my relationship with my mother, so I am stuck sitting there letting them say what they want, without correcting them. Funny, my therapist tells me now when my mother says things that I don't like to be honest with her. I wonder if he'd be okay with me being honest with him? That's the thing: I just don't think so.
I had one therapist that was amazing. Her name was Nina. She was caring, she listened, and she gave great advice. And there never came an instance where she talked over me or didn't listen to what I was saying and just came up with her own conclusions (like mine did yesterday). She never once put me in the position to have to stand up for myself. She understood what her patients needed. Then she left the clinic to work as an administrator, not even a therapist. Which royally sucked.
All the other ones have been varying shades of annoying (to downright awful). Like one therapist I had always hugged me when I showed up. Not because she thought I needed a hug, but because she was a hugger. I hate hugs. But for some reason, when someone goes to touch me, I feel horribly guilty saying "Sorry, I am not a hugger", so I always give in and hug the person. I was taught as a child my boundaries do not matter, so I still have issues with letting people cross my boundaries (though any therapist should know this and NEVER hug their patients anyways). And I had to listen to her talk about her adopted children all the time, as though they weren't her real children (her sister died and she took in her nieces and nephews). I hated the way she talked about them. She knew I was adopted, too. Which let me to believe that she did it on purpose. During our talks, I found out WAY more about her than she did about me. And she never once participated when I was talking. She just let me talk. And when I get nervous, because nobody is talking, I talk to fill the space. And I told her to begin with, that I hated when therapists don't say anything. I could talk to a wall if I wanted to do that. And it'd be free. Therapists who ignore your requests are not good therapists.
I had one who was dead set on EMDR. I saw her for over a year. And I kept telling her I can't do it because all my migraines are usually either eye or smell related. Those are my two biggest triggers. So she kept badgering me and badgering until I relented, and guess what? It gave me one of the worst migraines ever (and it didn't even work, because I think EMDR is a crock of crap...but if it works for others, then go for it). This set off a series of migraines so I stopped seeing her. The other issue with her was that she was a liar. She listened to my issues about my mother and then she'd tell me all these things I could do to help my situation. And then I found out they were all lies. Nothing she said was true. Not one thing. Services she said I could get for her didn't exist. Legal action I could take to get her driver's license revoked did not exist. Programs she boasted about didn't exist. None of it was real. It started to make me wonder if anything she said was true. That was another reason I stopped seeing her.
Another one, who my husband also saw and had the same issues with, was quiet as a mouse and only repeated exactly what I said back to me. That was her version of "therapy".
One, named Gail, was a loudmouth who talked about herself the entire time I was in session. She'd also talk about her other patients to me and show me pictures of her house on her phone constantly. She left the clinic, so I was glad I didn't have to be the one to leave her.
Since 2005, I've had eight therapists. Many of those were working at a clinic that gave away free therapy as a way to get there credits for work. So once they were done fulfilling their quota, they'd leave and go back to their real jobs. But half of them were just people with their own practices. My new therapist does therapy over the phone with me (which is the way all of these should have been, what a waste of gas and time driving to get there only to be annoyed so much of the time). So I am in love with this new way doctors are doing phone services instead of in person. I don't even have to video chat him, yay! (though we did once, it was horrible--I could hear myself talking in his phone and it lagged and ugggh)
He's really great at helping with my mother. And no, I do not feel he's a narcissist. But still, I always have this fear of stating what I don't want to a person in the position of power over me (granted, he's not actually in power, but it's how it feels when it's a doctor). Stating "I don't think the way this conversation is going" makes me feel like I'm telling him he's doing his job wrong. And I have had some bad experiences with people when I have said things like that. The EMDR therapist lady punished me after I had my bad experience with EMDR by always telling me I must have "done it wrong" if it didn't work, and then basically withheld services from me (she always cancelled on me, then when I did her, she didn't talk much...though it was a good thing, because all her words were lies anyways). My son saw a therapist who verbally attacked him and me at our first session and I switched to a different one for him, and she called and then verbally attacked me on the phone. I reported her ass. When someone makes me angry, I have no issues standing up to them. But when someone's just being weird, I feel like I'm being a jerk for saying they're doing things wrong.
I know this is my issue. And I won't stop seeing him (talking to him) just because he bugs me sometimes. He's a human, and doesn't live in my head. I know this. And I know I will have to get the courage to stop him and say "I think we're veering off course here". Or to say "I would have liked it if you had asked about my father or let me talk about him that day". Because he's helped me more in the few months I've had him than any other therapist has, even if he goes off on a tangent once in awhile. I should tell him my issues, and ask him if he would be okay if I told when I am not jiving with our conversation. Then it would set it up for when it does happen and maybe I'll be okay stopping him and bringing the conversation back on track. I'm just so afraid he won't respond in a good way and I'll be stuck finding a new therapist again. And I don't want that. Granted, I'd be better off with a new therapist if he reacts badly to my objections, but at the same time, god knows how long it'll be before I find one that's good again? And that scares me.
I know, I should tell him all of this. But that's like telling a claustrophobic person to just get in the box. The only way you'll get over your fear is to get in the box. But what if getting in the box makes it worse? That's always a legitimate possibility. Telling someone you fear rejection (or fear their reaction, but deep down, that's a fear of rejection, isn't it?) and having them reject you will not make you fear it any less. It will only make it worse (though, my Buddhist studies teaches me to not take these types of things personally, so maybe I should start immersing myself into that more?).
I crave safety. I hate the unknown. That stresses me out. I don't fear the unknown if I've built a safety net for myself first. So how do I build a safety net for myself with this? Being able to trust him is one way. So I guess just asking him "Are you okay with me telling you when I think our conversation isn't jiving with me?" His answer will let me know if I can trust him. And his answer will let me know if I keep him or not (though I do suspect he'll be fine with it...I hope).
Why can't my mother be normal? Then I may not even need a therapist LOL
UPDATE 2021: I did stop seeing him, twice! He's a jackass who talks over me constantly and doesn't listen to a word I say! It got so bad that he started replacing my mother's voice whenever I'd do something he'd disapprove of! It's like playing out my issues with my mother all over again! Geezus. What's wrong with people??
I had all the power. But I felt powerless at the time. I had no idea what I was capable of. I had no idea what I could do. I only knew what I couldn't do. I just didn't know.
I wish I had. Things would have been so different for me back then. But you do better when you know better. Though even then it's hard. If I could have just realized the power I had, and still have, I would have known I could have set the rules. I could have gotten what I wanted and been happy about doing so.
All I ever had to say was "No thanks". I never had to do the things she wanted me to do. I wouldn't have had to play by her rules. I wouldn't have had to torture myself to conform into the little box she wanted to keep me in. And all I had to say was "no". But more so, "no thanks". That's the trick here. Never just say "no" in a stern voice (unless you absolutely have to). You have to say "no thanks" or "thanks anyways, but I can't". I know it sounds basic and like it maybe won't work, but I assure you, it will. Not in all situations (because not all situations are a "yes" or "no" situation"). But in the times where they threaten you unless you do what they say or when they want to force you to do something you hate or when they volunteer you without your permission, just say "no thanks". That's it.
They will threaten you (or threaten something), but just reply in a cheerful voice, no matter what they say "That's okay! I'm okay with that. I just can't but thanks for asking!" And then change the damn subject on them.
We all feel compelled to do what they want because we feel that we have to for one reason or another, whether it's out of fear, or something they hold over us, or something else. But when we pretend like we aren't bothered by their threats or don't care about what the outcome will be of us saying no, they have no idea what to do. Now, at first, they will push back, but if you can make it through that initial push? They will not only back off, but will eventually change their behavior so you will want to do the things they ask, rather than demand you do them. AND, the more we do it, the less we have to pretend it doesn't bother us to say no, because eventually, it won't bother us at all.
I know this to be true because after years and years of ASY (always saying yes) I finally started saying no. AND the one thing I changed about saying no was I stopped making excuses when I said no. When I made excuses, she would tear them down to the point I couln't say no anymore. It's a manipulation tactic. So you have to stop giving excuses when you say no. Just say "Thanks but no" or do what the book "The Power of a Positive No" by William Ury says to do that also works. You start with a yes, then state your no, then say yes again. It's like a no sandwich. This means you say something like "Wow, thanks for thinking of me, but I don't want to do that today, but maybe another day?" But if it's something you don't want to do at all, then you can freely say "No thanks!" then change the subject.
The subject change is key. If you don't, you'll be stuck with their whining about why you said no. And you still might be, so feel free to end the whole conversation if you need to in that moment. But the subject change is key because it says to the narc "I am done with this conversation," which means you have the power, rather then them. They might try to steal the power back, which is fine, but know that you're the one with the actual power, so you can walk away at any time, even if it's hard. And at first, it will be. Just know it not only gets easier every single time, but the narc usually responds less every single time, too. Not always, but usually.
My hubby was in a band with this guy. And the guy always acted like it was his bad, not theirs. It was just the two of them! And the guy wasn't even that great of a musician at the time (he's much better now). He picked all the songs, he set their practice schedule, and acted like he was in charge. It was beyond annoying. Let's also add this guy is a total narc, too. You may be asking "Why would your husband want to be in a band with a narc?" But know that narcissism is so rampant in this world that there will be instances you'll be in where you'll have to learn to deal with a narc, rather than avoid them (and some have some redeeming qualities about them, esp. if they are lower on the scale).
Anyways, so eventually my hubby started pulling away and missing practices because this guy is a total know-it-all (about anything and everything) and never stopped being super bossy about the band. And so the guy threatened to replace him. My husband said "Oh cool! That actually works out for me! I don't really have time for this right now with how much I'm working, so good luck and have fun with the new guy!" He called the guy's bluff, who in turn freaked out and apologized and made amends with my hubby so he'd come back. And for years after, it became their band, and they both made decisions and had fun playing together (now that the pandemic happened, they hadn't seen each other in many months, and now the guy's back to bossing everyone around again, which just will not work out). But for years, my husband's choice to call his narcissistic friend's bluff made the situation more than just tolerable, it actually became fun. And all he did was to tell the guy "no" and act like it was no big deal (which it wasn't, it was actually a relief). He could have yelled at him. He could have told him to fuck right off (which would have been understandable). But instead, he just used a positive no and got what he wanted out of the situation (he actually liked playing music with the guy when it was fun).
Narcissists want us to squirm. They want to make us uncomfortable. They want to punish us. They want us to feel put upon. They want to complain about us. They want us to be bothered by all of this. And if we show them we just aren't, then they have no place else left to go but up. Or away.
Not all narcs will respond like this, but most will. Or some will just lose interest in you. Which is also a good thing. It's a part of being grey rock. Grey rock is when you become so boring to the narcissist they leave you alone. And if you don't respond to their threats or care about their temper tantrums? You'll be boring AF to them. Or you'll be something they wish to win back by being nice as ever to you. But if you do go back (like my hubby did), you have to keep them at arm's length. Because if not, they will just try to take your power again and use it to abuse you.
Arm's length is really the only way to be with a narc (if you need to be by them at all). If I had only knew that back when I couldn't drive (for almost ten years) and she had to drive me places. I felt as though if she didn't take me to the grocery store each payday, then I'd not be able to leave the house all week. So she always required I get up too early because she refused to go after 8 am. I have several sleep disorders and have a horrible time getting up early, plus I have to take my meds at a certain time, and then wait to eat. I also have had hypoglycemia since my teen years--which she knew (and could care less about). She would call me the night before and say "The bus is leaving at 8 am! Be ready or it'll leave without you!" And I would get this sinking feeling and have a hard time sleeping all night (which would lead me to have a bigger issue getting up in the morning). This happened every single week for years on end. I would drag my ass out of bed at 7:30 and take my meds right before leaving, and she'd drag me to hours and hours and hours of grocery shopping. Let me also add I have fibromyalgia, so this would also cause me to be so much pain by the time we were done and I'd be starving and feeling really sick, because she'd refuse to stop for me to eat or let me eat in her car if I bought something (but she could smoke...because that's so much better). So we'd get back and I'd be sweating and wanting to throw up and in excruciating pain. Every fucking time.
Why didn't I ever just say no?????????
I felt obligated. I feared telling her no. I also didn't have any money and without the groceries she bought us, my family would starve or we would have to find a ride to the food pantry, which happened anyways sometimes.
Eventually I did (when our circumstances changed). And she punished me for it (my son would go with her instead and she'd not buy us any groceries). But I still held my ground and didn't go. And she never stopped punishing me for it. But here's the kicker (as my dad used to say): I still felt horrible about saying no. So I still felt awful whether I went or said no. It didn't matter. And she knew this, and that's why she still punished me for it. When I finally stopped stammering over myself when I said no, when I stopped making excuses, and stopped caring what her response would be, she stopped punishing me. Oh she still didn't buy us groceries. But I stopping giving a shit about it and supplemented by going to more than one food pantry instead.
So in order for me to break free of her control and break free of the pain she caused me with it, it had nothing to do with if I said no, it was how I said no. And most of all, it was how I dealt with the aftermath.
Nobody can make you feel awful without your consent.
When you stop letting someone else control your mind, not just your actions or your body, but your mind too? That's when you've truly broken free of their control.
When I went no contact the last time (for almost two years), I still lived in a prison every single day until I saw her again. Even when we moved 500 miles away!!! I dreamed about her every single night. I feared leaving my house, scared to death I was going to run into her (and odds were good that would happen, as we lived a block away from each other). I don't know why I feared that so much. Confrontation is NOT my thing with her (something I am still working on with my therapist) so the idea of running into her was the worst thing I could imagine happening. Which was so very stupid. But at the time, it felt real. I also never answered the door, for fear of her coming over. I hated getting the mail, fearing her sending me something stupid again. Every moment I lived in constant fear. Two entire years, I could have just been low-contact with her instead and not driving myself as crazy as I did. But I had no idea that I held the power. I never knew it and wasted so much of my god damned life not knowing it. But I did. Instead, I just gave her my power as though it didn't belong to me to begin with.
Eeek. Why do we give away our power so easily? I know, we were brought up to believe we had to. But we don't. Not anymore. And never again.
So what I want you to do is start today. If you're no contact with your parents, then pick someone else in your life who gives you trouble. And take your damn power back. Start saying no. Start only saying yes to the things that enrich you. To the things that build you up and strengthen your power. To the things that support you. To the things that make you whole. Take your power back by saying not only no to what does not nourish you, but know it's okay to do so. Be okay with saying no. Learn to love it. Relish in the fact that you can assert your power without hurting others. You can say no and know that you have every right to so, even if the other person says you don't.
If I had only known this for, what? Forty freaking years? I could have saved myself so much worry and guilt.
There is never a reason to engage a narc who is trying to take your power from you. So don't. End the conversation. Walk away. Hang up. Change the subject. Whatever you have to do let them know that your power is yours, not theirs for the taking anymore.
It's hard, but it gets easier. And you'll be so much happier when you do <3 I know I am. I don't always remember to do this, but when I do, it's wonderful. And the more I do it, the better I get at it.
You will, too.
Good luck <3
My mother has dementia, but she is on a slow grade version and has developed symptoms over the years, much of which I cannot tell when it's the difference between her dementia and her narcissism (lately, I try to attribute much of it to dementia so I don't get annoyed so much). But there are a few things that I know are her narcissism, as she's done it to me for years before she ever had dementia. This is one of those things.
When someone tells my mother a story, she will ask questions and respond like a normal human would. Sometimes she will say stupid things (meaning mean or rude or just strange) but for the most part, she says normal things. So my mother is capable of carrying on a normal conversation. And, unlike many narcissistic actions, this particular one is just for me. Most narc actions apply to anyone they're talking to. Like my mother-in-law (a super narc) will say rude things to me, because she's an idiot who says rude things. But she's an idiot who says rude things to everyone, not just me. Whereas this special behavior my mother exhibits is just saved for me, and me alone.
When people say "Well, it's not you, they're a narc". True. But I have never once seen my mother treat anyone else in the same way. Not a single time. And I honestly have no idea why she even does it at all.
Since her dementia is getting worse, my mother has been on a reminiscence kick. She constantly talks about the old days, some of which is totally inappropriate (like today she told us the story of who she lost her virginity to, and surprise surprise, it wasn't my father!) but we don't care. It's fun to hear her talk about something interesting instead of her usual behavior of bossing everyone around or complaining. She loves to tell stories about her old pets, her friends growing up, parties she went to, things her parents did and said, and whatnot. It's probably the most fun I've had with her in years.
In these moments, I cant pretend my mother is normal, and ergo, actually loves me. In these moments, I can pretend she didn't do all the bad things and say all the bad things. In these moments, I am enormously happy to be around her.
It's also in these moments I completely forget my role in life that she's taught me to be.
I get caught up in her storytelling that I forget my life doesn't matter. I forget that what I have to say is stupid or not worth listening to. I forget that she's probably not even wanting to tell me these stories, since there are other people sitting in the room or around the table outside with us. I feel a part of her life in these moments. And in these same moments, I always forget I am not.
So I sometimes will open my mouth and tell the story of something that happened in my life that's similar (not interrupting her, just after she's done). And rather than respond, she will just stare at me. She won't say a word. And eventually she will stop staring and argue with me about what I'm saying, as though I remembered it wrong or am just lying. I always argue with her back (not like angry arguing, but I won't back down and give into what's she saying) and by the time I'm done, she's just staring again and then will tell another story of her own, as though I hadn't said anything at all. Every single other person she believes their words. She will comment and respond, like a normal person. She will act like she enjoyed their story. But not me. Mine are always stupid and wrong and she's always reminding that I am supposed to keep my mouth shut. And yet, I stupidly always forget.
I don't always share my stories. Not with her. But sometimes I do let one slip in , and I always regret opening my damn mouth. "C'mon, Shay. You've been taught this your entire life. I've trained you to keep quiet and yet you always think you have something valid to say. And I'm always here to let you know that you don't. Don't you ever learn?" is what her staring says to me. Like she just can't believe I have the audacity to open my mouth, yet again.
I am allowed to ask questions about her stories. I am allowed to join in the conversation as long as a) I am agreeable and b) it's about her or what she's talking about. Nothing else is allowed. Other people can share. It's just me who can't. I will say she treats my oldest son somewhat similar (her second scapegoat), but not with the outright rudeness of completely ignoring what he says or the constant telling him he is wrong. Not the way she does to me.
But instead of getting angry, I just let her keep telling her stories and I just ask about her life and save my anger or sadness until she's out of the room. You can't argue with a narcissist. But you really have no reason to argue with a demented narcissist. Yes, this behavior started way before the dementia did, but what good would come of saying anything? She won't apologize. She won't change. All it will do is make her angry. And since I am here as her caretaker, and not her best friend, I will tolerate it and learn to keep my mouth shut. Sounds jackassy, I know. But luckily I have my own family to talk to and we can share our stories together. I don't have to include her in any of it.
My therapist says "Don't see her as your mother. See her as a woman you take care of. Your job is to make sure her well-being is cared for. You get your care from the people that actually love you, not her." And he's right. Though it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt my feelings when she does these things. It's a harsh reminder that anything that has to do with me is not wanted in her eyes. And, in a way, I'm kind of okay with that. I love being off her radar. The less she knows about me, the better. But it's still rude and mean for her to act like that. Especially when it catches me off guard the way it did today. I'm usually on my game when it comes to her.
I mother my kids, my husband, my mother, and myself. Meaning I take care of everyone and know what they all need. I know what meds they take and when to order more. I know how they like their food. I know where everything in the house is (until my mother moves it, which she does frequently...NOT a dementia issue, just her incessant need to rearrange everything all the time). I know all the doctors and their phone numbers and all their social security numbers and all the freaking info we all need to know. I've had to be this way my entire life. I didn't have a mother who did these things for me. I had to do them for myself, including making doctor's appointments for myself. Sure, my mother cooked for me. She did my laundry (until she kept ruining my clothes, and I took over and taught myself how to do my own laundry). And yes, she made me chicken noodle soup (from a can...nothing wrong with that, she'll just tell you she made it from scratch) and would give me kleenex when I was sick. But that was about it. The rest of the time she just bossed me around (usually for no good reason, just because it was fun for her) and told me what I was doing was wrong. That's the extent to which I was mothered. And yet, I somehow grew up knowing exactly how to be a mom. It wasn't inherited from my birthmother either. I told myself "I will never be the kind of mother I had growing up". And I became the exact opposite. And I feel that I'm pretty good at it, too (though I do make my share of mistakes). But it's gets fucking exhausting. And sometimes, I fall off my game, and get lulled into a safe feeling of "we're all normal here" when I am around her when she's yakking it up about the old times. Not often, just sometimes (like today). Sometimes it's nice to play pretend and act like she's normal. Even if just for a moment. To pretend I have an actual mother.
But you can't. Not even for a second. These narcs will always make you remember why you have to be on your game to begin with. They remind you that this is all just a fucking game and all you are is a pawn to them. You are not real. You do not matter. You are here for their benefit and that alone. And without your use, you are useless to them.
I cook all the meals. If I could not cook, I guarantee you she would not even care if I moved out into the chicken coop out back. I make her doctor's appointments. And I boss her around when I have to because she's a stubborn mule who puts herself in harm's way unless I make her do differently. The last two make her angry, so the only worth I have to her is that I cook. Oh, and I do her laundry (but that's because I boss her around and won't let her downstairs because she can barely walk across a flat floor, much less us the stairs). So I am good for two things for her. Oh, and listen to her life stories. But anyone can do that, I'm not special to her in that regard. I could go get a full-time job and let my husband stay at home with her and she'd be happy as a clam. The only part that wouldn't work is that he can't cook. But he would learn. And the kids can cook, so there's that.
If it wasn't for the pandemic, I would totally fucking try it. Except, you know, I have debilitating anxiety and vestibular migraines (which is why I haven't worked in over 20 years). But I'd try it anyways. Maybe I can find a desk job where I am alone and nobody would breathe on me? Hmm. Something to think about.
Okay, enough ranting. You get the picture. I have no idea why this shit takes me by surprise anymore? I just get used to keeping my mouth shut so nothing like it happens in a long time, so then I open it, and not even a little can slip by her. It's practically instantaneous. She'll just stare at me, not saying a word (or she'll argue with me), while I sit there and feel stupid for even talking.
Sigh.
At least my internet in my room is working again. So that's something. Yay Netflix.
I am only child, so for my entire life my mother had to play favorites with people who didn't live in our family, just to remind me of how she feels about me. It could be a stranger or someone I was being hurt by at school or elsewhere (I'd tell her of an argument I had with someone and she'd always take their side, still does). As I got older and became an adult, and she got a crew of friends, she'd rotate favorites between us, making each of us (there were four) her scapegoats and her golden children. It was, and is, exhausting.
But there was always one person who was always her golden child, and that is my husband. She loves him so very much and treats him like how a parent should treat a child (well, as close as she can figure out how to be one, anyways). The other day he took a nap because he had a horrid migraine (we both get icky migraines and we both take naps, mind you) and she was all over him after he got up and said "Oh my god, how do you feel? I feel so bad you don't feel well like that!" My husband looked at me when she looked away and made a face. He knows she's ridiculous. And it makes him so uncomfortable because her concern sounds faker than a $7 bill. And because she shows zero interest in my sickness or pain.
But then I'm walking around Menards yesterday and bang, my head started pounding. I hadn't had a migraine like that in a long time. Then, like usual, my brain started getting loopy, and I couldn't think straight. At least I didn't get dizzy, thank goodness (which is a usual symptom of mine, as is the others). We left, had to still go to another store, then came home and by then it was horrid. We walked in and our dogs were all barking like maniacs. I was angry a bit, telling them to shush because they were making my horrible migraine 100x more horrible. And my mother started making this noise. Now, let me tell you, my mother LOVES to make noise. She's honestly worse than a toddler or even my little yappy dogs when it comes to noise making. She will do all sorts of strange and really irritating voices that only she finds funny or cute. And she's like a child in the way that she picks a noise or a saying and beats it like a dead horse until there's nothing left to that horse except pulp and you can't tell if it was ever a horse to begin with. A child wears things out. My mother? She obliterates it. So she loves to make this noise where she shakes her face back and forth and her tongue slaps her lips. I have no way else to describe it. And she does it louder than the damn dogs barking.
So I say "Ma, please stop, I have a pounding migraine". And if she saw my face, she'd see I was in distress. She'd have seen the discomfort on my face, as I felt freaking horrible. So rather than saying "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Here, let me take your bags for you so you can sit down!" like she would have for my husband. But no, she does what someone who doesn't give a rat's ass would do and she makes the noise again. LOUDER. I yelled at her that time. I said "STOP IT! My head freaking hurts!" So, she does it AGAIN. "DAMMIT MA! Nobody finds that sound funny or cute! Don't make that sound EVER AGAIN!" So she took her cup of coffee and went outside and stayed there for hours and didn't speak to me again until later.
I hate yelling at anyone. I really do. It gives me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. But she puts me in the position to have to do it. Otherwise she won't stop what she's doing to hurt me. Like when she used to think it was cute to be like Gibbs on NCIS and slap people on the back of the head (though Gibbs only did it to Dinozzo, ma did it to everyone). She did to me and my oldest son (her scapegoats) and would pretend to do it my husband and our youngest (her favorites). Then one day we were in the car and she did to me with a horrible migraine (she loves to hurt me when I'm already hurting) and I was soooo sick of that crap already and I said "Don't do that. Nobody likes that and my head hurts". So she hit me again. I ducked again and said a little louder "Stop it." So she actually got me the third time and I grabbed her arm pretty hard and held in the air and yelled "Don't you ever hit anyone ever again! This isn't TV! It's never okay to hit people!" and let her arm go. She never did it again (though she did catch herself a couple times before completely quitting).
Though, the other day, she was doing one of her "voices" (this really nasal and high-pitched voice she does) and both my husband and I told her to stop and he even said he had a big of a headache and she still didn't stop until, again, I had to raise my voice at her. BUT, I was the one who first told her to stop. When my husband joined in, she was already annoyed with me for telling her to quit. But had my hubby asked her first, she may have quit...but I have no idea, as he never is the first one to tell her to stop (it makes him uncomfortable, which I totally get).
So then at dinner, my migraine was finally gone. So I brought it up to her at the table. I said "Thank god for tylenol! I had such a horrible migraine earlier I'm lucky that tylenol worked for it this time. It was pretty painful, too." And she just brushed me off and talked to someone else. Though at dinner the day before was she was gushing over my husband, about how she was glad his head felt better and all that. But when I'm in pain, all she wants to know from me if I'm going to make dinner or not.
My therapist said to me to stop thinking of her as your mother. Just think of her as an old woman you take care of who has a thing for your husband (which sounds gross, but he didn't mean it as romantic, though with my mother, you never know LOL). That's easier said than done, because it really bothers me. And I think I'm going to bring it up to her, and point it out. I'm going to say "Wow, you sure care about when he's in pain, but when I am, you say absolutely nothing at all."
There's a thousand different ways she shows me she loves him like a son and thinks I'm the help. She gushes to others about his accomplishments, but never says a word about me (even though some of our accomplishments are exactly the same). Or she gets on my case if he does too much outside or around the house (she went on a 10 minute speech the other day because she saw him doing dishes). We cleaned the garage out the other day (after some drama she pulled on us about it--even though SHE was the one who made the mess LOL) and because she saw me cleaning she said nothing about it. But when he does something, or anything at all, she's all proud of him in ways I've never heard her talk about me.
It's all fake, mind you. Even when she praises me or our kids. None of it is real. We all can tell because her tone is always off and overdramatic. So I don't know why I'm jealous of fake praise or fake concern. But it just wears on you. Especially when I do shit for her every single day. Especially when I'm in horrible amounts of pain and she gets off on trying to make it worse but would never do that to her favorites. It makes me feel singled out. It makes me feel like nothing I do is good enough because even though I try my best to do what she wants, she still wants to hurt me.
Then again, it also gives me a freedom that everyone else doesn't have. I can say what I want to her. I can stop trying to be polite when I need to be stern with her. Because I know nothing I do is good enough, I don't even have to try if I don't feel like it. Because I know that even if I tell her knock something off, she'll treat me exactly the same if I'm polite and say nothing while she tortures people. So I can say things the others can't. I don't have to worry about losing her love or affection, as I don't have it. This gives me the freedom to little by little, say the things I've always wanted to say and to stop taking her shit when I don't have to. So when I look at it that way, I don't feel so bad.
It doesn't fix everything, but it does make it somewhat better. And right now my hubby is taking her grocery shopping, so I can just relax without anyone making strange voices or noises in the house. Well, besides the dogs ;)
I am taking a mother wound class on Daily Om, and I thought I'd share what I am learning here with you. The first assignment is to assess what you feel the "mother wound" really is to you. Mothers can be more than just your actual mother, so you could include people who were like a mother to you, as well as your actual mother. I was adopted, so I have a birthmother and a mother. But even though my birthmother and I have issues (I mean, not really, I just feel neglected and judged by her, because she literally doesn't talk to me but maybe once a year and when she does, she dismisses my feelings...no, she's not a narcissist, she's very codependent...her mother is a narc tho, my grandmother, which saddens me to know I was always destined to deal with this crap LOL). So the question is posed: what does the mother wound mean to you?
My answer:
To me the mother wound means...well, I don't exactly know. I've run many groups for adults with narcissistic mothers and I have a blog, too. And now when I'm faced to put into words what exactly this means, I don't really know what to say. It's pain, I know that. It's a toxic shame that takes over you and tells you "I am not worthy or good enough". I know today, even though I take care of my mother with dementia, she is still so damn judgmental that I stutter when I talk to her and I fall over my words and feel horrible when she engages me in conversation. Because I know what's coming. I know she's going to tell me I am wrong and then say something to prove she's better than me. 73 years old and she still does this. I don't get it. I love being a mom. I could never imagine treating my kids that way. But here she is, only feeling better about herself when she's putting me down. I think the mother wound is a deep and gaping wound and is the source for all self-hatred.
Though I do think the father-wound is also a source of self-hatred. I think it's both parents. And usually when you have at least one narc parent, usually both are in on it. But not always (apparently my birthmother's father, my grandfather, was sweet and kind, but was just severely codependent).
Anyways, that's what I wrote. What about you? What's your definition of the mother wound? Let me know below. I'd like to hear what others have to say about it :)
UPDATE: This class actually sucks. Don't take it, it's a total waste of money. It's waaaaay too short, and has no direction. And she's coming from the idea that "a wounded mother recreates the mother wound with her own children". NO. I do not support that idea at all. I am a person with a mother wound and I do not recreate that with my children, so obviously our mothers like what they do to us. Yeah, I wish I could get a refund on this class LOL
Welcome to Healing From Her.
I am a daughter of a narcissistic mother, one of way too many in this world. If you're here, then you're probably the child of one, too. I hope by reading my words someone out there will realize they aren't alone.
