I am Logy.

[Logy]

The opportunity to tell my side of the story overwhelms me.  And that someone might really listen.  I keep thinking, my life with my NM wasn't really so bad.  So many others have it so much worse.  Who am I to complain about things? 

[Logy]

I think I need to start with where I am now.  The first things that come to mind are all the things I don't like about myself, the stress issues, my addictive tendencies, the depression.  I don't like these things but I continue to deal with them.  I don't take care of myself.  Huh, after I wrote that, my first thought was how I yearn for someone to do something for me, hold my hand, give me a real hug, unload the dishwasher.   My next thought was "wow, you are selfish".  This is the voice I hear in my head anytime I need something.  I don't have the right to ask for anything.  If someone else decides to deem some favor upon me, that's ok.  But if I have a need and voice it, that's BAD. 

I just got it.  Voicelessness.  Though I have known about narcissism for about 4 years, all I have learned and read seems to focus on the N.  How to deal with the N.  It's all about the N.  It's still about them.  When does it become about me?

[Logy]

I am the oldest of 4 children, born in 1956.  I have tried for years to pull up memories from my childhood.  I really have very few memories before age 10.  Most of those memories are of times when I was embarrassed or confused.  There are a few really great memories.  All of the good ones are when I was with my dad, not my mom.  I actually do not remember one single good memory of my mom.  But I don't remember horrible times with my mom.  I just don't remember anything with her.  (Well, there is one time.  A bad memory of both of my parents.  I was being punished.  I don't remember why I was being punished.  I was probably about 5-6 years old.  Dad sat in a chair.  Mom stood beside the chair.  My pants were pulled down and I was put over my dad's knee.  He then hit my bare bottom with a hair brush, several times, multiple times.  He finished hitting me.  I slowly got off his lap and pulled my pants up.  I wasn't crying.  I didn't say anything.  I just looked at my parents.  Their faces were blank, just looking at me, not saying anything.  I just walked away.  Don't know where I went.  Don't know what I thought.  It almost feels like I imagined it.  But why would that memory stick with me still, almost 50 years later?  Why would my mind make it up if it never really happened? 

My mom rationed food to the kids.  We were not allowed to get food on our own.  Everything we ate was carefully measured so nobody got more than the other.  One time we went to my uncle's house.  I was with my cousin and she opened the refrigerator and handed me a drink and was getting one for herself.  Her dad walked into the room and I FROZE.  OMG, we are really gonna catch it now!  But.....he couldn't have cared less!  He didn't even give us a second glance.  I was in a state of shock.  What?  We didn't get in trouble!  Boy, was I confused.  I remember sitting there with that drink, thinking it was manna from heaven.  Funny, though, I don't remember ever being extremely hungry at any time.  Just that I was never allowed to decide when I would have food.  That was always controlled.  That still confuses me.

[Logy]

I've watched home movies of my childhood, trying to figure out what went on (since I had no memories).  The primary thing that came out of it was dad being natural, playful with us as kids, and mom trying to either orchestrate the scene or completely removed from what was going on around her.  One scene, at Easter, was Mom posing with the kids lined up like little soldiers, us carefully watching her for a sign of what we should do, stiff little children.  The same day, dad with the kids, all of us climbing all over him, Dad beaming and hugging us, we didn't care if our dress or suit got wrinkled, Dad didn't care either, as long as we were all loving each other.

I do see a dynamic change when my brother was born when I was 2 years old.  In all the movies he was the focus.  I would be standing in the background, occasionally trying to get in the picture, but would be pushed back while the adult beamed over my brother.  As my brother grew, he actually became physically violent with me and would show off for the camera after he had made me cry.  And the camera would be focused on him gloating while I stood tearful in the background.  And as we grew and would play board games as a family, my brother would throw fits if he didn't win.  And Mom would then pack up the entire game "OK, we're not playing anymore."  And so the rest of us would have to give up playing just because brother threw a fit.  So he controlled the family dynamic.  And it got so much worse the older he got.

In adolescence I suffered a loneliness and pain that I still cry about occasionally.  Our family moved out of state.  I felt like everyone had someone but me.  Mom had the new baby.  My brothers had each other.  Dad had his new job.  When I was 12 I tried to commit suicide.  Mom discovered me during my attempt.  Other than "What are you doing?" nothing was ever said to me.  Life went on as normal for the family.  No one asked me why.  The perfect family image was kept intact.  One time when I was really having issues with my mother, I confronted her with this time in my life.  She said I was very happy during that time, no problems at all.  I sobbed and sobbed to my mom after telling her about this time of my life.  She was an ice cube, completely in denial about my feelings, ha, that's it.  My feelings do not matter.  She didn't care that I was still broken up about something that happened 40 years ago.  She was still protecting the perfect family image.

[Logy]

My NM plays the Madonna/Whore card.  In one breath she makes sexual comments, acts flirty (especially with my brother's friends), dresses in low cut tops.  In the next breath she tells me she hates sex, doesn't care if she ever has sex again, rages against any other person's sexual life or anything the Bible says is not pure. 

I developed very early.  Had B cup size breasts in 5th grade, started my period when I was 11.  NM never bothered to get me a bra.  I used to get punched in my boobs by the boys.  My sex education consisted of her giving me a book to read.  A while after I had read it, our cat was in heat and inside, against the screen door.  A male cat was outside the screen door.  I asked her if the cat could get pregnant through the screen door.  NM screamed "Didn't you read the book????"  I said yes, meekly.  I felt like I was so stupid because I asked a question and didn't get it at first pass.  And NM didn't bother to go into any explanation.  So I was left wondering. 

Fast forward to 9th grade.  We had just moved (again) and I was starting in a new city, new school.  NM took me out to get an outfit for the first day of school.  I tried one on and NM said it looked great and she bought it.  First day of school, I was petrified of being in a new school.  Made worse because everyone kept staring at me.  I figured I must be a real freak.  Years later, my best friend from that time, and still a good friend, told me how all the girls hated me because all the boys paid attention to me.  She said I had on a short, short skirt and a too tight top and looked like a slut. 

[Logy]

I had no idea I looked like a slut.  It was just what NM said I looked good in.  So I looked like a slut and everyone thought that was what I was.  I didn't even know what a slut was.  So when boys started paying attention to me, I thought that was good.  If a boy wanted to be with me, I thought that was what I was supposed to do since that was how NM dressed me.  I had NO CLUE about sex but was put out by NM as a sexual person.  Any time I brought up sex to Nm after that she then became the Madonna.  Never discussed it unless it was to quote from the Bible.  Though home movies of her from her teens and early twenties depict her as provacative and scantily dressed, though I have seen her be a big flirt, she presents a completely different image at random times.  I was SO confused when I was young.  It's like she set me up to be a failure in her eyes.

Be sexy.  Sex is evil. 

Sex is just one aspect of life that I was confused about.

[Logy]

A friend asked me what the first concert was that I attended.  I remember being at the Ohio State Fair with my family and seeing Andy Williams, with Sonny and Cher as the opening act.  It is a good memory for me.  One of the few I have from my childhood.  I want so badly to mention this memory to my dad and NM.  But I am PETRIFIED that it will be denied.  They will tell me it never happened.  Such a simple memory.  EVERYTHING I have ever commented on regarding the past is denied, denied, denied!  "It never  happened.  You are mistaken.  Why would you think that happened?"

But I have a burning desire to mention this.  If I mention it and I am once again denied my memory will I shrink into a pathetic blob?  Will I have the strength to stand up for my memory?  It is such a small thing compared to the horror that others here have endured.  I don't feel like I deserve any sympathy. 

[Logy]

So I emailed my dad and asked about the concert.  He doesn't remember seeing Andy Williams.  He does remember Sonny and Cher.  But his first comment about that day was just remembering that the boys behaved.  That gave me some insight into the family dynamic.  My brothers are still the focus of NM's life.  One is the rich, successful N himself.  The other is the baby, her baby, who cannot survive without her.  When he succeeds at something, it is because someone else gave it to him (according to her). 

So I feel better for putting the memory out there.  But is it my dad's memory?  NM clouds every experience any of us have ever had.  Is it NM's manipulation of the memory?  I just remember that my life, my FOO's life revolved around these two boys.  If brother threw a fit because I got a hotel in Monopoly, then the game stopped, board folded, game done.  So my "success" in a simple board game became a big family drama.  "Logy, your success caused pain."  At least that was the message I heard.

Nbro would sit at Thanksgiving dinner, taunt me, degrade me, while everyone else just sat there.  I would finally leave the table in tears and run to my room.  Nobody ever came to console me, no one ever stuck up for me.  I still remember NM and enabling dad's face while this was going on.  Blank.  Blank.  Blank.  It was ok.  No one wanted to stand up to him.  No one cared about me.  Nbro is evil.  NM supported him.  Dashed me against the floor and raised him to the highest.