Author Topic: brought my two posts together,may add more later  (Read 2276 times)

longtimelurker

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brought my two posts together,may add more later
« on: April 01, 2004, 02:26:30 AM »
After I confronted my mother on the telephone I asked her how she felt. She paused as she realised the usual "devastated" would not be enough.
"suicidal she said.
I said "have you ever thought that I have been suicidal"
"I'm not responsible for that" she said.

I also flirted with suicidal thoughts for years So I can empathise with you on that one.
Thinking back, I always feel when my mother tried to get you to do something it was always giving an order. If you rebelled and tried to stand up for yourself she would try to psychologically crush you.

She threw me out when I was sixteen, as I wouldn't pay rent. It wasn't so much the rent but the way she went about it that was so damaging. I ran upstairs crying and she sent my dad (enabling all the way) to get me to pay.
"Tell him he can pay xxx" it was the way she sent someone else to make an offer and wouldn’t face me in a reasonable way. I was obviously upset and said no, my dad passed on the message and that was his job done. no offers I'll support him or anything (they were separated at the time.
The next thing I know I was called downstairs my bag was packed and I was told I could stay with a neighbour. This neighbour also played the role of father trying to get me to pay the rent, trying to cajole me. Obviously, the position I was in and the age I was how could I possible explain that I was fighting to survive my mother was crushing me. How could I possible back down from this? If I went back how miserable my life would have been.
I was fortunate in that my grandparents where my dad was living, allowed me to stay - in a camper bed behind the couch. I offered to pay rent and my grand mother wouldn't take it.
SO that's how I was crushed, my mother won. Hands down.
Years later I saw her get on the bus with my younger sister. My sister got on first, saw me and sat somewhere else. mother sat next to her and pretended not to see me. It was obvious. I said "time for a reconciliation then" "oh hiya" was the response in that completely false, exaggerated voice.
no more contact for several years.
I then found out she had cancer so I got back in touch. immediately fell into the same situation. she would randomly bring up things she must have felt guilty about.
"the reason you got the same allowance as your younger sisters is you got from elsewhere"
"we don't talk about you, you know" (she talks about everyone when they're no there - and in a derogatory way.)
I realised I detested almost everything she said and the fact that I stuffed it down and didn't respond (partly out of fear of her reaction) meant that I was slowly dying. Once she was over at my house and she talked about how she was talking about "us" to her sister and her sister said "you're pushing them away" I felt the strongest urge to speak and scream YES but didn't say a word. The life completely drained out of me. My mother saw this, pretended to yawn, said I'll come back when you're feeling better. my fault - zinged again.
That's why standing up to her was the hardest and the best thing I ever did. It took me months. It was a complete failure in a sense - she manipulated me into anger and gave her the opportunity to paint me in a bad light but she would have done that anyway.
The first time I did it, I phoned her after a sleepless night. "oh you got up just to say that?" (Subtle belittlement) "Oh I've been hurt too" she then said. It was looking back after that call I realised I had apologised for even bringing the subject up. I had nothing to apologise for. So I did it again and this time I made sure I would not back down and leave the ball in her court. So no more contact.


I think some of these are the cliches that "everyone" got told - but maybe that's just me normalising it :-


Take that look off your face.

you'll be laughing through the other side of your face in a minute (never understood that one, just knew it was a threat of some kind)

stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about.

What's wrong with your face?

Whats for tea? I asked my mother (as I often said) "SH**" I don't know why I asked her so often  

or when I asked where something was, my mother would say "Up my Ar** and on a hook"

If you said something funny "I'll do the jokes" - with that horrible emphasis on the word "me" that she uses. I did this , I did that. If she ever got to heaven, I'm sure she'd fall out with G-d. for not being "all-knowing" enough  

running to tell parents that john lennon had died (big beatles fan or so I thought), Father replies "Is he?" in that belittling way I felt as small as possible and slunked off back upstairs. I mean if he knew already -why not say so.

an argument to destroy the evolutionists "MONKEYS IS MONKEYS" as my father says.

It's funny how difficult it is to remember when you were getting it everyday when you were growing up. I guess a lot of it isn't important anymore, I don't think there's anything left inside of me that will scare me - I have processed such a lot.

One thing I think of sometimes - when I was walking down the street a mother was "talking" to her daughter - as the daughter was walking a few steps ahead of her "Come here or I'll strangle you"
It's not unusual in my area for parents to talk to children like that - I wish I'd said "My mother threatened to kill me too, when I was younger now we no longer have a relationship" I would have just received more invective but maybe the daughter would have remembered.

I did tell my partner that my mother threatened to kill me but I can' seem to remember it - It was just the same kind of comments that I was used to. I knew she wouldn't kill me but I guess I was just meant to feel threatened. or laugh on the other side of my face  
I don't know why I wasted so much time trying to tell my mother the truth. NOt many people can face being told that they are truly horrible with evidence to back it up! hi mother 99% of everything you say or have ever said I not disagree with strongly but it completely anathema to me. When you are around I feel myself slowly dying. i played along only because you were my mother , I couldn't face your reaction,typical and obvious - an aggressive verbal attack then a flounce and withdrawal - so hard to tell the truth when there are some many years of stuffing it down, letting it go. Trying to "help" her, offering her advice.

She was "supposed to die" did you know that? how many times have I heard it. Apparently she had T.B. when she was young, in the 1950's. I'm quite sure it traumatised her but she just uses it to gain sympathy. "I've had a hard life" as she says. Where? did she live a completely different life apart from the one we all saw and were part of?

I recognise so much of myself in her too. It's more now as I used to be. My sense of humour - which really was based on sarcasm, putting people down, in which she and I excel. I can still do it but I choose not to. Occasionally I still do. The shock and trauma I felt when I went back to experience all those childhood things which culminated in the feeling that I was abused was the same shock and trauma I felt when I realised I had been doing the same things, behaving the same way. It's tough to look at yourself like that. I hated myself so much anyway, my sense of humour, so called was my way of avoiding facing that hatred and the reasons behind it. But I survived somehow. Nobody saw the real me. I stayed quiet and I didn't share. Looking back I realise that I didn't know how to live, I didn't want to live, I didn't want to grow up. I didn't want to "be"
So began my self destructive cycle that lasted 10 years. Participating in life, being drunk, fun ,part of society with friends, but still all the way through it wasn't "me" The real me was broken and had stopped living at 17. But you have to speak to people don't you? the drink helps with that, you find yourself speaking participated but it's not you. Only when you have that break-down is only when you can live. When you can look at yourself with that stark, horrible honesty necessary to break down and through all the self defences that helped to grow into that life that you hated, but didn't know what to do about.
After I confronted my mother on the phone I wrote her a letter of apology in which I crawled on my belly was frank about myself, trying to empathise with her - seeing the similarities in our behaviour at times

(i asked her on the phone about her behaviour she said in an incredulous voice "you're talking like you're god")
two weeks went by - no contact. I phoned she said she got my letter. she said she'd spent all her time thinking about it. I asked her what she thought. "I don't know what to think, really".
That sums it up, that was the last time I crawled on my belly for anybody and the last time attempt the impossible - which is namely an attempt to communicate with a narcissist.
I still feel very much that it is "there for the grace of g-d go I" as the traits are passed on through families. It is inevitable unless you go back and heal and climb that mountain of change. to claim a life for yourself and learn finally to treat others as you would be treated. to find joy in the simplicity of everyday routine life and to see the good in people, without putting a dampener on it, as was your legacy of growing up in a dysfunctional family. with,very likely 2 narcissists. I allowed myself to be used, but no longer.

Tokyojim

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brought my two posts together,may add more later
« Reply #1 on: April 01, 2004, 09:09:34 AM »
I REALLY like what you wrote:

"It is inevitable unless you go back and heal and climb that mountain of change. to claim a life for yourself and learn finally to treat others as you would be treated. to find joy in the simplicity of everyday routine life and to see the good in people, without putting a dampener on it, as was your legacy of growing up in a dysfunctional family. with,very likely 2 narcissists. I allowed myself to be used, but no longer."

I think that keeping that in mind should be the goal of the N.  Especially enjoying the simplicity of everyday routine life.  It may be a struggle.  What do you think?  If you keep reminding yourself, does it help?  Can you maintain the inspiration?

Good luck!