tired's comments

Dealing with a Narcissistic Mother - Blog Entry

03 Feb 2008 12:56 AM

This is my first time ever participating in a blog. I just discovered my mother has NPD. I want to thank every person who wrote in. Your willingness to put words to so much pain has given me hope. I am 39, have three healthy children, a loving husband. Yet I am so tired. For years, I thought it was me - that I wasn't smart enough, talented enough, dutiful enough. My husband is in the army and we don't have much money, yet I have spent so much time and money flying back home, only to be belittled, my parenting style ridiculed, my failures thrown at my face at a whim. I lived ten minutes from my parents while my husband was deployed to Iraq. Not one time did my mother come visit, cook us a meal, offer to babysit. Instead it was me doing for her, serving her meals, spending precious time listening to her rants. This is a woman who exercises for two hours a day. I fear she will outlive us all. I spent my youth being sexually abused by an older brother. When I told my mother this, during one of her abusive tirades about what a "good for nothing" I was, the only thing she had to say was that he was her son, and that nothing I could ever say would make her feel differently towards him. She then left my room and went to the kitchen, offering to cook him anything he wanted for breakfast, making sure I could hear her wait on him and serve him. I'll never forget that moment. I am a stay at home mom with aspirations to do something with my talents. Any time she gets wind of a project I am doing, she takes it on, too, whether it be painting or writing or decorating. I never realized why I have all of these unfinished projects strewn about my home. All it takes is one condescending glance from her, or discouraging remark, and I am a four year old again, and suddenly my work looks like junk. My father died last year. He lost a one year long battle with cancer. When he started chemotherapy, she called me, imitating him with a whining voice, saying, "Feel sorry for meeeee; I'm on chemoooooo." I will never get that voice out of my head. I want to forget the horrible childhood I had: the loneliness and pain of having a mother that fed herself first, always, and often at my expense, pitting me and my siblings against one another, suffering through the silent treatments that lasted for days, the tirades about my aunts and our neighbors and how stupid they and everything they stood for was. I realize now that I need concrete advice on how to limit my interactions with her. Every phone conversation we have leaves me feeling angry and assaulted. But as I sit here and contemplate cutting ties with her I realize, by the sweat of my brow and the quickening of my pulse, just what a hold she has on me. And yet I can't help but feel encouraged by this blogsite. Thank you thank you thank you. sincerely, Tired