Hi all,
I recognize this so well...from so many sources. My mother launching into delaying demands (none urgent) every time I tried to do a simple leavetaking, the clutching/smothering feel of it. How I never could understand how she didn't seem to hear me say, "I've got to go, now." And that when she would see me again the next day, and when I was living with her, even the next hour.
It was a feeling of her insatiability, that so drowned me. And guess what.
The unpleasant truth is that, until recent years, I could've been the person yabbering desperately away at the table, absolutely stuck on my frantic narrative, clutching for attention, anyone's listening, and I could go on until someone, like you Guest, was absolutely drained. You should've heard my phone calls. It was a gasping feeling, that if I didn't have a listener I'd just fall apart with anxiety. And I didn't know how to stop.
A horrible feeling. I had very porous and sometimes utterly missing boundaries and a whole LOT of Nspots -- voicehoggery, entitlement...
I am okay with myself now. I have finally satisfied myself that I do not "have NPD" but I sure was taught or absorbed a lot of Ntraits.
I'm sure I still do, too. But I'm less terrified when one surfaces. I don't believe any more that I am hollow like that.
I remember the boundary invasions of my mother, multiplied thousands of times. I think partly my own desperation to be heard was an overcompensation for having felt so smothered and UNheard by her. But boy, have I had some very PATIENT friends.
This holiday season, my intentional isolation was painful but I thought it necessary. I think another reason that I "go hermit" though, despite my basic extraversion, is that the "middle way" -- of natural, comfortable sense of self and a protective boundary around myself -- is not what I do automatically.
My boundaries have often either been collapsed or ... as lately ... so rigid (suddenly then I'm an intravert and can't bear to mingle) that I isolate to the point of despair. And then it's a big f-ing deal to connect again.
I remember my NexH2 (narcissistic ex-husband, the second one) literally slamming the bathroom door open when I tried to retreat to do my bidness. And not Number One, either. I was appalled by it, but being also a loving codependent frantic to make HIM happy...I put up with it. He made a big deal about having to "share everything." In hindsight, I see how sick that was...but that was decades ago.
Today? I have reciprocal friendships, I share time, I love to talk but generally never let myself totally take over and dominate (or if I'm talking a lot, I usually pause and "check in" with the other, or even remind myself aloud, "I want to hear about you, too, sorry I've had so much to say"). My friendships are peaceful and affectionate and wonderful -- but I still can feel surprised at how I am loved and accepted.
I've healed a lot. I am so grateful.
I wonder, when I think about Guest's dinner companion, or the clutching parents who can't let one simply go on about your business to take care of your own life...what would have happened to them if THEY had had years of reading about self, boundaries, Nism, codependency, how to be healthy...
Do you suppose there ever could've been healing for those N-ish people too? I like to think so. I like to imagine that even my mother, if she'd been of the generation taught to get help, to study the nature of the self, to examine and cleanse and air out wounds -- she might have healed some too.
thanks for letting me ramble,
Hops