Author Topic: My Nmother's is NPD and more  (Read 3008 times)

Sallying Forth

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My Nmother's is NPD and more
« on: August 07, 2005, 03:41:18 AM »
This week in therapy my t gave me two papers to read. One was on the diagnostic criteria for Narcissistic Personality Disorder and the Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. When I first found this forum I believed my Nmother was a destructive N but not actually disordered. However after all I've described my t believes she is NPD and OCPD and possibly more. She fits the criteria all the way through on both disorders. Some things I didn't think were true about her when I first read about NPD my t pointed them out to me as classical signs. :shock:  Like grandiosity - I didn't that included being obsessed by her beauty. It does.  :shock: 

My t says there a NPD classification of sadism and he believes my Nmother would be classified under that. :shock: There was one particular incident of physical abuse by her which still haunts me to this day. My Nmother, like usual, was sticking her nose into my business, controlling my life, telling me what to do. I was 18 + and still living at home. I told her to shut up. That triggered off intense rage by my Nmother. The look on her face was maniacal. She chased me through the house. I tried, in vain, to lock myself in my bathroom. With the full weight of her body, my Nmother slammed against the door. I was behind the door holding it closed. The force of her body threw me back into a glass shower. It shattered and cut my back. The look of glee on her face, when I screamed out in pain, is what I will never forget. She was taking pleasure in seeing me suffer. She grabbed my arms and pulled me away from the shower. Where she held my arms were bruises. I was crying and she told me to shut up and that I wasn't in any pain. Then she blamed me for breaking the shower door. When she got me out of the bathroom she had calmed down and that's when she saw a piece of glass was embedded in my back! :x

My t says the other thing which points to the sadism is scapegoating me for her affair.

As for OCPD my t says that my mother fits a perfectionist. I read the paper and I have to agree. In the therapy session I had the strangest thing happen. I've told the story of my Nmother's account of an incident in kindergarten before but I never had any memory of my own. When I told my t what happened this time I had a flashback as I told the story. My husband, who used to be a grade school teacher at a private school, confirms that the teacher would have never required what my Nmother said they did.

My Nmother told me over and over about how I failed to organize my belongings in my desk drawer in my kindergarten classroom. The teacher, in a conference, told my mother to get a desk and teach me to organize a ruler, pencil and crayons. My flashback told a different story. It wasn't a parent-teacher conference rather an open house where students, parents and teachers were present. I showed my Nmother my desk. She opened the drawer and saw what she defined as a disgrace. She turned and gave me a contemptuous look, blushed in embarrassment and sighed in disgust. I felt myself literally shrinking into a nothing in that moment. When we got home she ranted on me about what a disgrace I was, how I embarrassed her in front all the other mothers and students and especially the teacher.

My Nmother was a compulsive perfectionist in the home. Not one thing was out of place. She mopped the kitchen floor several times a week, waxed the woods floors every week, the windows were spotless. She would strip wax the wood floors once a month. The entire house was perfect all the time. She had a routine when we were children and that is what we followed or else. Everyday we had baths and had to stand by the front to wait for my Nfather to come home so he could greet us one by one. We had a specific bedtime and she never deviated from it.

She would compulsively clean the food out of the grout on the kitchen countertops. I’d ask her why she did it. And she would say, “to get all the dirt out.” My t commented on this being a metaphor for my Nmother’s life, keeping the dirt out of sight. Later on during her compulsive cleaning she had a “dirty” cupboard where she'd stash items to keep everything spotless. One time in my late teens she asked me to put something in that cupboard. At that point I had no idea that it existed. I opened it up and everything started to fall out. My t said another metaphor, stuffing the dirty stuff into a secret place.

She would wait and wait and wait to throw the kitchen sponge in the trash. By the time she did it would be shredded and split nearly in half and stink. This I couldn't understand but my t said that was another metaphor. All the dirt and grim destroying the cleaning device.

The outside of the house was perfect as well. The lawn meticulously manicured every week, cut and edged and green. The scrubs neatly trimmed.

For holidays, business meetings, and company the best and most expensive cuts of meat were served. Later when I became my Nmother’s errand girl ( smirk ) I went to the store for her “to learn how to shop.” Really to learn how to compulsively shop. Thank goodness I never picked up on these uppity, sick and perfectionistic shopping trips and made them part of my life. I was given a list and had to buy the exact brands and items on it. When I returned home every food item was scrutinized and then I was berated for any deviation. If it was a special business meeting I had to go to several stores to find “IT” and I had better come back with “IT” or else I’d hear about it for hours. And everything had to be perfect. Recipes were followed to the letter. My Nmother had to be perfect and everything she did had to be perfect and everything I did had to be perfect too.

I vividly remember one Thanksgiving dinner at home when I no longer lived there. I made an apple pie with whole wheat pastry crust. My Nmother chewed me out in the kitchen while I get it ready to serve. “It’s going to be like a rock. It will be tasteless. It wont be a crumbly crust. You can’t make pie crust like that.” Her ‘session’ lasted about 30 minutes while she ripped me up one side and down the other. Then she served the pies, two of hers and mine. I took a piece of hers to placate her of course. The company loved my pie (they didn’t know I made it) and started to ask her for a recipe. My Nmother acted graciously toward her guests and then later started cutting me down again. It wasn’t her perfect pie recipe. It took her about 15 minutes to tell the guests the truth and only then with a condescending tone while giving me an evil eye. I got compliments but they were quietly spoken when my Nmother left the room.
« Last Edit: August 07, 2005, 08:15:17 PM by Sallying Forth »
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longtire

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #1 on: August 07, 2005, 12:46:56 PM »
Sally,
I'm sorry that you had to suffer through things like this as you were growing up (and after).  You probably already know this, but it is something you can't hear too many times.  It was not your fault, ever.  It was ALL about you mother's problems.  You are a wonderful, kind person and I'm glad you are here.

(((((((((((Sallying Forth))))))))))))
longtire

- The only thing that was ever really wrong with me was that I used to think there was something wrong with *me*.  :)

Sallying Forth

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #2 on: August 08, 2005, 03:51:15 AM »
Hi Sally,
What I am interested in, however, is your story, if you dont mind telling us more about it. When did you find out that something was wrong with the way your mom treated you? Did you love her as a child? Did you feel she loved you back? I dearly loved my mother...I thought she was a hero! What did it feel like inside when you were a child? How did your mother devour you?

Best, Marta
Hi Marta,
You can find my initial posting to the forum here:

http://www.voicelessness.com/disc3/index.php?topic=1673.0

I always knew something wasn't right from a very young age. The first time is when I asked my Nmother if I was beautiful. She looked away and then said, “no, but you’re pretty.”

I was never close to my Nmother. As a baby I did not bond with her and therefore our relationship never grew. I had a horrific nightmare about 10 years ago about my Nmother. I was a baby in the dream. She laid me face up on the back of a high-backed sofa. It was a precarious and dangerous position. Finally I understand what this means but at the time I woke up terrified and not understanding the nightmare. To my Nmother I was an "IT" and therefore dispensable.

I didn’t love her and she didn’t love me. She tolerated my presence which was a daily reminder of her mistake, her affair. I always knew my father was not my biological father. I repeatedly asked why I didn’t look like my brothers or father. And was told numerous times that I looked like my mother. However I look only like her. The following link is where I talk about this.

http://www.voicelessness.com/disc3/index.php?topic=1684.0

I survived my childhood by splitting, becoming multi-fragmented and multiple. I became an extreme introvert and developed an elaborate inner world. As my kindergarten teacher wrote on the report, “Painfully shy and withdrawn. Doesn’t make friends.”  Gee, I wonder why. ;)  I was emotionally and mentally maligned by my Nmother, Nfather (not pathological) and Nbrother all at once until I would break down and cry. That abuse continued until I broke physical contact with them upon starting therapy in my mid 30s.

My worst abuse was similar to the systematic and ritualistic abuse which my uncle suffered. However mine had the added twist of being "sold" (for money) to my perpetrators, one of whom was my biological father. :shock:  I used to have a recurring dream about the actual "purchase." My memory is very clear about the house where this occurred. I've even asked my Nmother if we ever lived in a unique house like I described. She confirmed it and where I knew it was located then she quickly changed the subject. How N of her!

I had a better idea of how deep the rabbit hole went at age 10 when I caught my Nmother in a big lie. The lie got bigger and more twisted as the years passed until at 18 she had to tell me another lie to cover that first one. This lie was about her mother, my supposed grandmother. We always referred to her father's wife as grandma. She wasn't. She was a step-grandmother and never raised my Nmother. Why the lie had to be told is to cover up my Nmother's very screwed up childhood.

THE LIE: My Nmother's real mother died in a car accident. My Nmother's brother and sister died too.

We were told her mother never drove a car and never even learned how to drive. So this meant my Nmother's father had to be driving. There was never anything mentioned about whether he got hurt. And my grandfather was sitting in the room when my Nmother told this 'story.' He didn't volunteer anything.

The only reason this 'story' had to be told is that my oldest Nbrother (unknown whether he is pathological) and I found it strange that my grandparents were married on his birthday -- the actual day he was born. We knew that was an impossibility.

THE COVERUP LIE: My Nmother's real mother was murdered by her own son. The son, my uncle, also killed his sister. It was a brutal murder. This part is true. I was old enough to hear the whole story but of course NPDs don’t tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

The rest a lie: My uncle commited suicide by hanging himself in his cell at a maximum security prison for the criminally insane. My step-gma worked for a hotel chain as a secretary.

I found the truth reading the newspaper articles. Of course some of this may not be 100% accurate but it has got to be more truthful than my Nmother's version of the truth.

My uncle actually died at the hands of an unknown assailant. His body was discovered at the bottom of a reservoir on the prison grounds. His hands were tied behind his back to a cinder block. Pretty difficult to commit suicide like that. His death was never investigated.

My step-gma and my gpa were obviously having an affair. She worked for him -- HIS personal secretary. (So my Nmother's 'story' about her father's employment had to be a lie too -- he was a foreman. Foremen don't have secretaries especially not in the line of work my gpa did.) They married only 5 months after my gpa's wife was brutally murdered by his son. I wonder if my gpa was a N (not NPD). I believe my Nmother’s real mother was NPD with sadism like my Nmother. I never met her but just the small bit of information my Nmother shared about the systematic and ritualistic abuse of her brother gave me the creeps.

I guess bottom line is my Nmother’s family and my family were   F - I - N - E  and beyond that. I think my uncle would be classified as a sociopath among other things.


The most interesting part of all this, I am the only one in the family who has a bigger picture of the truth. No one else has been in therapy and sent away for the newspaper articles. The murders were worse than my mother described and the crime so brutal my uncle fled the state in which they were committed. The FBI was called into the investigation on a nationwide manhunt for him. :shock:

When I am finished writing my autobiographical books then I’ve decided to write one on my Nmother and her sicko family.
The truth is in me.[/color]

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Sallying Forth

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #3 on: August 08, 2005, 03:52:40 AM »
Sally,
I'm sorry that you had to suffer through things like this as you were growing up (and after).  You probably already know this, but it is something you can't hear too many times.  It was not your fault, ever.  It was ALL about you mother's problems.  You are a wonderful, kind person and I'm glad you are here.

(((((((((((Sallying Forth))))))))))))

Thank you longtire. I guess I can never hear that enough times.

Thank you for the hug and kind words. :)
The truth is in me.[/color]

I'm Sallying Forth on a new adventure! :D :D :D

Lizzie

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #4 on: August 08, 2005, 02:20:47 PM »
Dear Sally -

Arghhhh! I read your post and cannot believe the similarities between your upbringing and mine.

My Nmother was constantly cleaning the house, everything had to be perfect. Constant scrubbing and cleaning and all the while complaining how we never did anything to help her out. I can remember sitting on the cement front steps of the house after school. It was about 10 degrees out, but I would NOT go in the house for any reason; I could hear the vacuum cleaner going. Enough of a reason to stay outside until someone else came home. Even now when I see a container of Spin n' Span I cringe.

She bought me a desk for my room and put all kinds of supplies in it, pencils, paper, clips, etc.. Well, I'm a kid you know and didn't really understand how to keep a desk. She opened the drawer one day and went ballistic, beating the living daylights out of me. Her reason was that all my pencils were not sharpened and going in the same direction! I couldn't understand what I did that was so wrong.
She would go into a Nrage, her eyes bugging out of her head and showing her bottom teeth. I would get under a bed and crawl to the utmost corner scared to death. She would get a broom and try to poke at me to get out.

She was president of PTA one year and came to school during the day. I think I was in the fourth grade. I saw her and was sort of embarassed with all my friends around me. So, I pretended not to see her. When I got home she attacked me - saying that "her own flesh and blood" wouldn't acknowledge her presence. (She was the Queen you know). She then proceeded to ignore me for almost a month. I was so desperate for her to even look at me not understanding again, what I had done that was so wrong. All I wanted was her love and acceptance.

As I got older I became what she referred to me as "her reflection".... and I had to tow the line. God forbid, I had be skinny and dressed pefectly. She would parade me around like an object, smiling at everyone she thought was looking at me. When it came time for college she wouldn't help me apply to any schools - I had to do it all by myself. My poor Dad wasn't any help, all he did was work several jobs to stay away for her and the house. I got into several very good schools and when I showed her the acceptance letters, she asked me "who is going to pay for all this? not me!" Not realizing that she wanted complete control of me, I ened up going to a State College close to home. (she worked there also!) This way she could watch my every move. I think it was in my Junior year I didn't make Presidents list, only Dean's. She told me I was an embarassment to her at work as I didn't make highest honors. I was told to stay away from her office as she didn't want to see my face. Once we went out for beers one night (drinking age was 18 back then). She found out and told me she was going to wear black for a month as she was in mourning - I was dead to her for going out and having a few beers with my friends.

You are doing to correct thing, writing about it and letting out your feelings. I know as I've been through it - but not realizing how warped my upbringing was until I was around 45 when my father died. She lost her Nsupply when he passed away, he was her captive. He lost both legs to diabetes and was her slave, driving her everywhere with hand controls, doing the dishes on his false legs, cooking, etc.. After his death
she zeroed in on me, wanting to come live with my husband and I. NO WAY! (I have a sister who is 7 years older than I am but have not seen her in over 35 years.) The more she acted out, the more I became aware of her Npersonality along with many, many others - Histrionic, Paranoid, Obessive Complusive....It was as if a large brilliant lightbulb came on over my head.

I am a 51 year old grown woman now, happily married. No children, we went through 6 years of infertility treatments and many miscarriages. My mother makes sure to remind me that I failed giving her grandchildren. My husband is a jewel and helps me deal with her and the baggage. She is 82 now and still hanging on. I see a therapist who helps me out too and the new medications that are on the market now.

Please reply if you would like, it sounds like there are many things in common between the two of us.

Sallying Forth

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #5 on: August 09, 2005, 04:45:15 AM »
Dear Sally -

Arghhhh! I read your post and cannot believe the similarities between your upbringing and mine.

Even now when I see a container of Spin n' Span I cringe.
I can't stand the smell of that cleaner, Comet Cleanser, Mr. Clean, Lysol, wood wax, Pledge, and many others which were used so much by my Nmother.

I believe my housekeeping is sorely lacking now because of my Nmother's obsession with a clean house. It doesn't seem to matter now. I think I need to hire a housekeeper. However I can't stand the smell so that is another factor. Those clean smells are too triggering.

Quote
She bought me a desk for my room and put all kinds of supplies in it, pencils, paper, clips, etc.. Well, I'm a kid you know and didn't really understand how to keep a desk. She opened the drawer one day and went ballistic, beating the living daylights out of me. Her reason was that all my pencils were not sharpened and going in the same direction! I couldn't understand what I did that was so wrong.
She would go into a Nrage, her eyes bugging out of her head and showing her bottom teeth. I would get under a bed and crawl to the utmost corner scared to death. She would get a broom and try to poke at me to get out.

That's so familiar. Get it right! In a specific order. Do it right, my right way. And the Nrage over my inability to organize according to her exact specifications. And I had to mind read to figure that out. :x

Quote
She was president of PTA one year and came to school during the day. I think I was in the fourth grade. I saw her and was sort of embarassed with all my friends around me. So, I pretended not to see her. When I got home she attacked me - saying that "her own flesh and blood" wouldn't acknowledge her presence. (She was the Queen you know). She then proceeded to ignore me for almost a month. I was so desperate for her to even look at me not understanding again, what I had done that was so wrong. All I wanted was her love and acceptance.

If there was a position to be had in the school my Nmother held it. President of the PTA, Brownie Leader, Girl Scout Leader, Cub Scout Leader and if she could have been a Boy Scout Leader she would have done it too. She helped in the classroom too. She was always baking cookies for this and that.

She did all this until her body couldn't do it any more and then nearly died of some disease. The life expectancy with this disease is supposed to shorten one's life. Not my Nmother, she's still kicking at 80 years old. She hasn't aged much either -- that's normal for Ns.

Quote
As I got older I became what she referred to me as "her reflection".... and I had to tow the line. God forbid, I had be skinny and dressed pefectly. She would parade me around like an object, smiling at everyone she thought was looking at me. When it came time for college she wouldn't help me apply to any schools - I had to do it all by myself. My poor Dad wasn't any help, all he did was work several jobs to stay away for her and the house. I got into several very good schools and when I showed her the acceptance letters, she asked me "who is going to pay for all this? not me!" Not realizing that she wanted complete control of me, I ened up going to a State College close to home. (she worked there also!) This way she could watch my every move. I think it was in my Junior year I didn't make Presidents list, only Dean's. She told me I was an embarassment to her at work as I didn't make highest honors. I was told to stay away from her office as she didn't want to see my face. Once we went out for beers one night (drinking age was 18 back then). She found out and told me she was going to wear black for a month as she was in mourning - I was dead to her for going out and having a few beers with my friends.

My Nmother discouraged me from going onto college. My brothers were encouraged to excell and go onto college. She literally told me I didn't have the brains to do it. I went onto a junior college and get an AA degree. It was the first time in my life that I could take elective classes that I wanted. Although I needed an acceptable major according to my Nmother's specifications. It couldn't be something I would do for a career. Under the guise of her acceptable major I found a way to try out the many classes I found interesting. Mostly I focussed on music, writing, and art classes. I did end up with the equivalent of two AA degrees. I went onto nursing school and graduated. I now believe I did that only because my Nmother lived the fantasy that she was a doctor. When I graduated from nursing school I moved away, storing my books in my Nbrother's garage. She later confiscated them all and became an expert at her fantasy, diagnosing people's ailments and pretending she was a doctor.

Quote
I am a 51 year old grown woman now, happily married. No children, we went through 6 years of infertility treatments and many miscarriages. My mother makes sure to remind me that I failed giving her grandchildren. My husband is a jewel and helps me deal with her and the baggage. She is 82 now and still hanging on. I see a therapist who helps me out too and the new medications that are on the market now.

Please reply if you would like, it sounds like there are many things in common between the two of us.
I am 52 years old, married to an abuser (not an N) who has finally seen the light. He's in therapy and doing well. We are now working through our Nfamilies stuff together. We help each other by sharing our insights on our dysfunctional families.

I never wanted to have children but didn't know why. I've slowly figured this out as I uncovered more about my sick family. I knew I wanted to marry someone who already had children and didn't want any more. That is exactly what I found with my husband.

Whenever I see a perfect looking yard, perfect looking house and perfect looking family all these red flags go up. I know there's got to be dysfunction in that home.
The truth is in me.[/color]

I'm Sallying Forth on a new adventure! :D :D :D

Sallying Forth

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Re: My Nmother's is NPD and more
« Reply #6 on: August 12, 2005, 12:24:33 AM »
Sally,
You mentioned therapy abuse in your post. How did that happen?

Thank you for sharing your story.  If you have more to say, I am all ears.

 Marta
PS: Your story so resonated to the core of my being, cutting through all the superficial layers, that when I was signing off this post, I almost wrote my real name instead of my penname, Marta.

Marta,
The first therapist I saw was a N and I didn't know it until well into my therapeutic process. When I decided to leave her she said, "After all I've done for you, you're going to leave me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I left because when I started to attend church she told me my religion was getting in the way of therapy. More like I was no longer looking toward her as my "god" and she didn't like it. Typical N stuff.

She was a sick, sick person in many other ways. She tried to get me committed because she thought I was crazy. Gee, sounds like my Nmother again. When I wouldn't go into the psych hospital she tried to get my husband to commit me. Talk about sick!!! :x  She thought I was crazy because the memories I had. I had connected dots to different government entities and therefore according to her book I was delusional. I sure wish that was the truth then I wouldn't have to live with this f*cked reality. ;)

My current t has had more clients with my connected dots so I'm not the only one. I was remembering this stuff way before any t's were dealing with it so it was very different. But now there are a lot more survivors telling similar stories.
The truth is in me.[/color]

I'm Sallying Forth on a new adventure! :D :D :D