Teartracks,
Thank you for this.
I've been thinking alot about the abuser's disguise, and even more about what it is, exactly, which makes the disguised abuser so dangerous to me, personally.... to any of us. I'm sorry this is long, but I don't know any other way to dig into it, and because I believe you'll understand this, I'd like to try to spell it out.
There's been more contact with my mother in the past couple weeks than in recent history.
In one phone call, her tone was heavy with sarcasm, mockery, disdain, criticism, and every other cerebral-N'ish-quality which I've come to
recognize. She has always emanated these toxins from every pore of her being, but they're no longer odorless, tasteless, and colorless tme.
In that call, she made a special point to let me know what she thinks of my husband... not much.
Her very next note by mail, written 2 days after that call, doesn't begin with "hi!" as usual, but she addresses the letter to each of us by name, including my husband. Have each of us really become individual human beings in her eyes... so suddenly? No, she's just back to keeping up appearances again. Even mentions my husband's new job... hey, any bit of info in a storm. Happy, happy, joy, joy... with a p.s. "I sure could use some mail from all of you!" (exclamation point even has a heart-shaped dot = nausea.)
Well, she may indeed get my mailing today or tomorrow, but it's not what she's expecting.
Another phone call this past Sunday. Again: "What's new?!" - but this time, in a less demanding tone. So once again, I tried to tell a bit >>> instantly, she cut me off to tell one of her stories (which made little sense) >>> then she was done and had to go. Mission accomplished... now she can say that she talked to me.
Also, she managed to deprive my dad of the opportunity of talking to me. Two birds with one call.
That was his punishment, by the way. What my heart knows is that she called me because he dared to bring someone home from church to show them his woodworking handicrafts. And I realized... the entire production, once again, had nothing whatsoever to do with me.
She was simply reenacting a very old battle formation.
Through all this, I'm beginning to recognize what is the danger of N in disguise.
For me, it's not that she may get me to do something, to give something, to expend myself in some way.
I don't feel threatened by that... I enjoy giving and sharing.
No, the danger is - of getting caught up in N's warped thinking and role-playing... because she wants you to ally with her, to be her accomplice... as she perpetrates her hate-filled, shame-driven attacks upon anyone who doesn't fall in line behind her, anyone who deprives her of her entitlement of continuous showers of attention and gratitude, affirmation, efforts to please... all poured endlessly into the leaky vessel that she is.
And beyond that, she seeks to turn you into a carbon-copy of herself, so that you're just as bitter, devoid of empathy, phony, manipulative, and haughty as she. Misery truly does love company... and that's the real danger, I think.
My mother has used a divide-and-conquer approach all of my life.
I remember her quiet, pseudo-concerned rants against my dad's family....
"I just don't know what may have happened in that family..."
as though they were all in denial, all problematic, all so far beneath her royal notice.
How blessed they should have considered themselves that she even took a moment to notice them.
Oh, how very much they could have learned from boundless wisdom and knowledge....
And If only they'd roll over and quit breathing, then she could mold my dad and the rest of us into her glorious image.
Not gonna happen.
Thanks again, tt. If you have any other thoughts on what is the real danger of N, I'd surely like to hear them.
Laura and Changing, Although my mother provided for physical needs, I see the m.o. of many of these npd men of withholding the most basic human comforts in an attempt to bring their targets low. Npd-ex used to love talking about how he could live in a cave, if need be.
For all I know, he is. But at some point, I made up my mind I wasn't going along for that ride, and you know what... there's something about being stripped to that level, where he was taking me and my kids, that just ignites a fire beneath you to get moving and get to a place of safety. For that reason, I'm thankful for what he did... and I just hope, Laura, that you know you are worthy and able to have your needs met, for you and your children.
With love,
Hope
