Does anyone have any supportive stories to share where they feel this same sense of self-doubt? I know that I am not giving in. The reason I know this is because if I give in again (like in the past) I feel like in a sense I will die. I have to live. I have to find out who I am and create a new person to live inside of me instead of my mother. I can't let her rule me anymore - it will continue the damage in me and filter down to my family. It has to stop. I just have this awful, deep, depressing feeling of being so terribly alone and that scares me more than anything I have ever felt.
Michelle
Hi Michelle,
My situation is a little different that yours in that I’ve been the one to try to maintain some level of communication with my Nmother. At first it was because I didn’t realize what was going on and had absorbed her version of myself as weak and incompetent. I felt like she had a right to remind me of my flaws at every opportunity, because I know I DO have flaws and, as she said, why would I object to being reminded of the truth? She accuses everyone who objects to her cruelty as being afraid of the truth.
I hadn’t spoken with her for several months, but had recently resumed calling her once a week to see how she’s doing. She’s 79 years old, refuses to make or keep doctor appointments, and is a very poor driver. However when I called last Saturday she declined my offer to bring her groceries and after about a half hour of one-sided “conversation” launched into yet another lengthy recollection of one of my perceived failures. After several unsuccessful attempts to interrupt and divert her train of thought, I finally just said, “Stop!” Although she’s hard of hearing, this got her attention. She said, “What?” and I asked her why every conversation had become an attempt to make me feel bad or guilty about something. Her reply was, “Don’t you EVER call me again!” and she hung up on me.
So that’s it. I can tell you though that it has taken a very long time to accept that I don’t have to live with her verbal abuse. It’s not new and it’s not a result of age. I remember coming home for a visit about thirty years ago, after having lived away for about a year, and being silently shocked at the rude and belittling way she spoke to my father. I didn’t have the courage to call her on it then, and anyway my father was her staunchest supporter. But that’s another story; he had issues of his own that were the result of his own upbringing.
Anyway, what I wanted to say is even though the situation is different, I can really feel what you’re going through. Especially what you say about being tempted to call your mother and make up when you heard a hint of “niceness” in her voice. I’ve been down that road countless times, and believe me it doesn’t lead anywhere except right back to where you started, but you realize that already.
One thing I would like to know though is how did you come to the realization that your mother was an N? I had pretty much resigned myself to a life of trying to atone for my perceived “sins” against my mother, and was awash in guilt and depression when I followed a link on another message board from someone who’s father’s messages on her answering machine had literally driven her to drink. I couldn’t believe my eyes when encountered the term narcissism and read what seemed to be the story of my Life with Mother. Without the funds or insurance for therapy, this board has literally been the answer to a prayer.
Singer
