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Escaping the Trap of the Narcissistic Mother - Blog Entry

26 Aug 2008 06:14 AM

First, I want to thank everyone who has shared their stories here. It greatly helps to know that my suspicions about my mother have not been unjustified. My mom was left behind by her father and mother at her grandmother's house when she was an infant. I've asked her about the exact age she was when she was taken there by her mother but she doesn't know for sure and most of her aunts and uncles who took on the task of raising her are now gone and both my great grandmother and grandmother are no longer with us to give us details. I suspect this abandonment had a lot to do with how my mother behaved when it came time to raise her own children. My mother and father met when they were in grade school. Sadly, my father never escaped his own family history of alcohol abuse and violence and died of complications of alcoholism and nicotine addiction three years ago. They had been divorced since I was 11. I am now 38. I grew up with a brother who is about to turn 40. And my life in that house after my father left was a nightmare. My brother most definitely has NPD. I always told my mom that I thought he was 'crazy'. I couldn't put my finger on exactly how I knew this except to accept that something in that kid wasn't right from birth. On one of many occasions when he has lost his set of keys (mom worked so after school we'd have to let ourselves in), he had asked to borrow my set at school and told me he'd be home before me so no worries. Well, I waited for him outside for about three hours. When he finally came home, I demanded to have my keys back. I didn't want a repeat of that afternoon. I stood up to him only to get the beating of my life. I was a small-framed girl and he was a fit and athletic boy. I was about 15. I remember between blows to my back grabbing the phone and reaching my mother at work and begging her to come help me. That is how my brother was to me. Whenever he needed something - money, keys, t-shirts, or anything else I had that was of use to him, he'd take it as if he were entitled to it. Punching me in the head or wherever was most reachable at the moment, became his response when I would stand up to him. And where was my mother in all this? Now, after 38 years I finally know where: absorbed in her own little world.

I've had the creeping suspicion since my father's death that my mother is an NPD as well. The reason that I couldn't recognize this before I suspect was because, whenever I came home, all we would do was talk about how my father's alcoholism affected me. Towards his last few years, I limited contact with him because watching him self-destruct was too painful. All along, my mother was using this situation, I now believe, to solidify her unhealthy enmeshment with me. I have read elsewhere in this blog that an NPD will identify your weakness and use it to her advantage. My mother used emotions with me. With my brother, she uses money. It wasn't until last Thanksgiving that we spent at my brother's house - yes, I still try to keep some semblance of a relationship with these people! - that I saw her at her game. I had an opportunity to witness how she, after badmouthing my brother and sister-in-law constantly to me, was preying on their weaknesses and getting anything she could get out of them. With my sister-in-law, she exploits her desire to please and so she'll constantly make demands and expect to be served. I had already given her the nickname "Princess" but after what I saw, I'm thinking of her more as a "Tyrant". What brought chills to my spine was the ease with which she exploits and the lack of scruples about it she displays. And, then, I started to think about how she may be badmouthing me to them and then to my face pretend to be sensitive, nurturing mother because that way I'll remain loyal to her and feed her ego. It was a scene right out of a thriller movie when you realize the killer is the person next to you in an empty house.

My mother left two days ago after a week-long visit. I live in New York City in a studio apartment about 300 square feet. No one who'd come in here would think of imposing on me in that way. Basically, she took over my one room space and for that week I had no privacy. Neither did I have warm, heart-to-heart talks with mom. No, she was here because she wants to be able to go back to her friends and tell them about her vacation in New York. The last straw came after she met my current boyfriend. I hadn't had a significant relationship in 5 years. This one I accomplished by slowly cutting her off emotionally. Her pattern of emotional sabotage and bad advice had to come to an end in order for me to become my own person and, finally, I feel there's light at the end of the tunnel. My current boyfriend is nothing like the men that I would get involved with before. The last long-term 5 years ago was an alcoholic. I thought that when my mother met him and saw us interact - we are very kind, respectful and loving to one another - she'd be thrilled for me. Well, her repeated comments to me were "I'm not worried about him. I'm worried about you. You get bored. You're too harsh on people. He's sensitive LIKE ME and you need to watch that you don't scare him away. WE sensitive people tend to become depressed if people are too harsh on US." You see, it's about her. Everything since I can remember in my romantic life has been about her. I remember being in the seventh grade and coming back from sleep away camp excited with news about a boy I'd met and how we'd promised to write each other letters during the school year only to have her interject and start filling me in on details about HER "boyfriend" and how in love SHE was. This was only a couple of years since my parents' divorce and I didn't even know that she was "out there" seeing other men. This was no way to find out.

So, slowly and with great horror, I'm beginning to accept that this is not going to change, that I have to continue to "phase her out" emotionally and that, if I really want my personal life to thrive, she can not be privy to any details because she'll just use them to undermine my confidence and turn the attention back to her. She's sick. I know this intellectually. There's just an emotional grieving that gets triggered with this knowledge that I am now trying to deal with.