I’m the 57 year old daughter of a Narcissistic mother and now I am the only child/relative that will take care of her in her old age (87). I am a people pleaser at all cost especially mine. I have NO SELF CONFIDENCE OR ESTEEM and I feel that I have never actually grown up. I at this point in my life really resent my mother and wish I had never agreed to find her a house to live in around the corner from me. She would not move into assisted living because she doesn't like old people. As she gets older it gets worse. When I do snap back at her on occasions where I have been with her for hours (4 or 5) I have terrible guilt and question my own faith in God and in turn feel that even He can not love me. I am struggling but can't seem to find an answer that I can handle. I think this s a very important problem and it needs to be talked about more then it is.
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phoebe22
Member
Re: Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder
I often forget, when speaking of my mother, that she died nearly 30 years ago. Were she still living, I know I wouldn't be. All those years later, and I'm still "processing". It took ten years just to be able to acknowledge the harm she'd done, let alone not immediately feel guilty and ashamed for doing so. I try not to let her face or the sound of her voice surface in my memory because those are the biggest diconnection triggers ... while at the same time I continue working hard to allow myself to be myself, to see myself through my own eyes, not through her twisted filters. I was blessed (in the truest sense of that word) to have had the right people in my life at the right time just often enough to throw me a lifeline ... enough to keep me going, enough to implant, so deeply I never realized what it was til just recently, some sense of identity ... a tiny voice speaking very softly, saying "no, that's not true", when she was slapping me and dragging me around the house by my hair, screaming at me for hours ... often literally from "dusk til dawn" ... about what a rotten, slutty, selfish, mean, manipulative (etc) piece of garbage I was. If not for those people and that tiny whisper of my Being, I'd either no longer be alive or I'd be locked away forever in that nowhere place my mind runs to when it can't take any more.
:hide:
I often forget, when speaking of my mother, that she died nearly 30 years ago. Were she still living, I know I wouldn't be. All those years later, and I'm still "processing". It took ten years just to be able to acknowledge the harm she'd done, let alone not immediately feel guilty and ashamed for doing so. I try not to let her face or the sound of her voice surface in my memory because those are the biggest diconnection triggers ... while at the same time I continue working hard to allow myself to be myself, to see myself through my own eyes, not through her twisted filters. I was blessed (in the truest sense of that word) to have had the right people in my life at the right time just often enough to throw me a lifeline ... enough to keep me going, enough to implant, so deeply I never realized what it was til just recently, some sense of identity ... a tiny voice speaking very softly, saying "no, that's not true", when she was slapping me and dragging me around the house by my hair, screaming at me for hours ... often literally from "dusk til dawn" ... about what a rotten, slutty, selfish, mean, manipulative (etc) piece of garbage I was. If not for those people and that tiny whisper of my Being, I'd either no longer be alive or I'd be locked away forever in that nowhere place my mind runs to when it can't take any more.
:hide:
Re: Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Phoebe22 I would soooo love to actually talk to you. I am struggling each and every day with my 87 year old narcissistic mother. the guilt and anger and love and duty and all the other crap that goes on within me is really dibilitating and not many (if any) understand. You sound like you do. If you could e-mail me maybe we could talk sometime.
Take care ad God bless you.
---------- Post added at 12:47 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:44 PM ----------
The little chair with the face under it reminds me of how I am around her. The little girl in the little chair. 57 and still that frghtened little girl tring without success to please her mother.
Phoebe22 I would soooo love to actually talk to you. I am struggling each and every day with my 87 year old narcissistic mother. the guilt and anger and love and duty and all the other crap that goes on within me is really dibilitating and not many (if any) understand. You sound like you do. If you could e-mail me maybe we could talk sometime.
Take care ad God bless you.
---------- Post added at 12:47 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:44 PM ----------
The little chair with the face under it reminds me of how I am around her. The little girl in the little chair. 57 and still that frghtened little girl tring without success to please her mother.
Last edited by a moderator:
phoebe22
Member
Re: Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder
First of all, I honestly can't tell you how in awe I am that you have survived such a long time in dealing with someone who sounds as if she could be my mother's twin. I'm neither kidding nor exaggerating when I say wouldn't be here today were she still living. Your strength and endurance are phenomenal; please give yourself credit for that!
It's only in retrospect that I realize they can't be pleased because nothing is ever enough. They're like emotional tapeworms.
I took care of my mother during the last several months in which she was dying of cancer and had to bite my tongue virtually 24/7. One minute she'd be saying how wonderful I was to take care of her while at the same time raising my young family, the next she'd drag out some bit of ancient history (going back to my infancy for heaven's sake) and beat me over the head with it or make a huge issue over something I said or did that she'd chosen to take as a deliberate act of "cruelty" against her. I was so often on the brink of giving her an earful, the shock of which would likely have killed her on the spot! ... I had so much going on at the same time my patience was running so thin that at times I actually forgot to be afraid.
What had changed by that point was, first of all there had been the realization at the age of 17 that I could have broken her arm with two fingers (not that I would have ... but the knowledge was so startling I've never forgotten that moment). I was very strong while she'd always been very physically delicate ... tall but "bird" bones ... and one day she realized it as well. That's when the physical abuse stopped. (I'd had to pick her up and carry her several feet, which I did with no trouble at all). The second change came several years later when I was taking care of her: she was in my home in my care and was completely dependent on me.
I would never have pointed this out to her ... I'd not have done that to anyone who was dying, but while I wasn't aware of what was happening at the time, there was a lot going on in my unconscious mind and shortly after she died, I realized I'd been living a warped version of the Wizard of Oz ... that early scene when Glinda laughs and tells the witch "you have no power here!"
Oh dear ... I'm rambling. I'm still trying to recover from a nasty bout of food poisoning which struck a couple of days ago, and I'm more sleep deprived than usual. My blood sugar is also in my ankles because I haven't been able to eat. But when I read your post, I wanted to at least let you know I've seen it and understand so very well what you're going through.
It might help if you can find a way to look at her from a "distance" (as it were). If just for a moment you can see her as a dependant old woman, not the monster-mommy who has driven the essence of your being into hiding, you may discover that you have more power than she's ever allowed you to realize. It's not a fix, but maybe it could help at least some of the time.
And I'm sorry to say I'm going to have to leave it there for now; my insides are demanding my attention, but hopefully can check in again soon.
:support:
---------- Post added at 12:47 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:44 PM ----------
The little chair with the face under it reminds me of how I am around her. The little girl in the little chair. 57 and still that frghtened little girl tring without success to please her mother.
First of all, I honestly can't tell you how in awe I am that you have survived such a long time in dealing with someone who sounds as if she could be my mother's twin. I'm neither kidding nor exaggerating when I say wouldn't be here today were she still living. Your strength and endurance are phenomenal; please give yourself credit for that!
It's only in retrospect that I realize they can't be pleased because nothing is ever enough. They're like emotional tapeworms.
I took care of my mother during the last several months in which she was dying of cancer and had to bite my tongue virtually 24/7. One minute she'd be saying how wonderful I was to take care of her while at the same time raising my young family, the next she'd drag out some bit of ancient history (going back to my infancy for heaven's sake) and beat me over the head with it or make a huge issue over something I said or did that she'd chosen to take as a deliberate act of "cruelty" against her. I was so often on the brink of giving her an earful, the shock of which would likely have killed her on the spot! ... I had so much going on at the same time my patience was running so thin that at times I actually forgot to be afraid.
What had changed by that point was, first of all there had been the realization at the age of 17 that I could have broken her arm with two fingers (not that I would have ... but the knowledge was so startling I've never forgotten that moment). I was very strong while she'd always been very physically delicate ... tall but "bird" bones ... and one day she realized it as well. That's when the physical abuse stopped. (I'd had to pick her up and carry her several feet, which I did with no trouble at all). The second change came several years later when I was taking care of her: she was in my home in my care and was completely dependent on me.
I would never have pointed this out to her ... I'd not have done that to anyone who was dying, but while I wasn't aware of what was happening at the time, there was a lot going on in my unconscious mind and shortly after she died, I realized I'd been living a warped version of the Wizard of Oz ... that early scene when Glinda laughs and tells the witch "you have no power here!"
Oh dear ... I'm rambling. I'm still trying to recover from a nasty bout of food poisoning which struck a couple of days ago, and I'm more sleep deprived than usual. My blood sugar is also in my ankles because I haven't been able to eat. But when I read your post, I wanted to at least let you know I've seen it and understand so very well what you're going through.
It might help if you can find a way to look at her from a "distance" (as it were). If just for a moment you can see her as a dependant old woman, not the monster-mommy who has driven the essence of your being into hiding, you may discover that you have more power than she's ever allowed you to realize. It's not a fix, but maybe it could help at least some of the time.
And I'm sorry to say I'm going to have to leave it there for now; my insides are demanding my attention, but hopefully can check in again soon.
:support:
phoebe22
Member
Re: Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder
I really am amazed at how strong you are. There's no way I could have lasted as long with my mother, and yours sounds easily as bad if not worse. I don't know if this is of any help, but maybe remembering that you do have "power" can get you at least a bit less under her thumb. I don't know if you have any siblings who just won't help out (if you have sibs, they jolly well should be helping IMO) Sometimes just being able to gain an even slightly different perspective can help.
Is your dr or your mother's dr aware that she's severely PD? Maybe if not it would help if they did. Outside intervention could at least give you some breathing room and time to take care of yourself.
Do you have kids? I sometimes find that dealing with "difficult" people is a bit easier if I apply the same kind of pespective with them as I did with my kids. People behave according to their nature, and sometimes remembering that helps how I respond.
I'm sorry to be so slow replying and for being so brief; going through a really rough time right now. I have been thinking of you and trying to figure out what might help.
Please hang in, and give yourself some well-deserved credit for doing what many people could not.
:hug:
I really am amazed at how strong you are. There's no way I could have lasted as long with my mother, and yours sounds easily as bad if not worse. I don't know if this is of any help, but maybe remembering that you do have "power" can get you at least a bit less under her thumb. I don't know if you have any siblings who just won't help out (if you have sibs, they jolly well should be helping IMO) Sometimes just being able to gain an even slightly different perspective can help.
Is your dr or your mother's dr aware that she's severely PD? Maybe if not it would help if they did. Outside intervention could at least give you some breathing room and time to take care of yourself.
Do you have kids? I sometimes find that dealing with "difficult" people is a bit easier if I apply the same kind of pespective with them as I did with my kids. People behave according to their nature, and sometimes remembering that helps how I respond.
I'm sorry to be so slow replying and for being so brief; going through a really rough time right now. I have been thinking of you and trying to figure out what might help.
Please hang in, and give yourself some well-deserved credit for doing what many people could not.
:hug:
David Baxter PhD
Late Founder
phoebe22
Member
Re: Parental Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Re-reading that, I suddenly realized why, over the past few years, I've again started feeling like a large chunk of human garbage. Even death doesn't silence her, and now other voices join the chorus ... "experts" telling me I'm flawed (and why should I believe them any more than I should have believed her? they don't even bother getting to know me before they hand down their judgments). I know there's no agenda, but it's like an echo ... different language, same message: I'm garbage. "You were terrorized, abused and tortured for 30 years; ergo, you are flawed ... in your own way you're as bad as or worse than she was". No, this isn't a literal message, but it's what I hear. And I keep asking "why"? "how?" When was I ever as destructive and crazy-making as she? Whom have I damaged beyond repair? Whom did I ever molest to the point where they can't even think about their bodies without feeling so much disgust they want to tear it apart and build a new one not stained with filth? Yes ... sometimes the flashbacks get bad and I retreat to a quiet and peaceful place ... but how does this make me anything like her? Why are these "healers" hell-bent on finishing the job?
Clearly, this moronic flawed old waste of space is missing a few pieces of the puzzle.
:fool:
Re-reading that, I suddenly realized why, over the past few years, I've again started feeling like a large chunk of human garbage. Even death doesn't silence her, and now other voices join the chorus ... "experts" telling me I'm flawed (and why should I believe them any more than I should have believed her? they don't even bother getting to know me before they hand down their judgments). I know there's no agenda, but it's like an echo ... different language, same message: I'm garbage. "You were terrorized, abused and tortured for 30 years; ergo, you are flawed ... in your own way you're as bad as or worse than she was". No, this isn't a literal message, but it's what I hear. And I keep asking "why"? "how?" When was I ever as destructive and crazy-making as she? Whom have I damaged beyond repair? Whom did I ever molest to the point where they can't even think about their bodies without feeling so much disgust they want to tear it apart and build a new one not stained with filth? Yes ... sometimes the flashbacks get bad and I retreat to a quiet and peaceful place ... but how does this make me anything like her? Why are these "healers" hell-bent on finishing the job?
Clearly, this moronic flawed old waste of space is missing a few pieces of the puzzle.
:fool:
Have you talked to someone about how you feel? You might need to work yourself up to something here....
First of all, if you're hearing something different and you know it, that's the first step right there. You know the voice in your head is your mother twisting things around on you again.
So if you start to hear that again, try this"
Think: Who the hell has the nerve to tell me that I am flawed after all that I've been through? I've probably been through more in one day than anything anyone has been through in their whole life.
I hope you don't mind, but I dare you to say to anyone (including that mean voice in your head) in a Monty Python fashion, that "I fart in your general direction."
When normal people are trying to help you, remind yourself it isn't like your mother's 'help.' Just because a person needs help, it doesn't mean they are a moron or an idiot (like mom probably taught you, because my mom certainly taught ME that). Smart people actually get help. So develop your 'third voice' and tell your 'adult voice' in your head to shutup and cut your 'child' in your head some slack. Get stern with yourself, but never beat yourself up. YOU'RE the one in charge here, dammit. It's YOUR head. Not your mother's.
Tell your 'adult interpreter' that she's fired, and you've hired your 'child interpreter' in her place. That way if your Big Mean Shouting Mouth starts yelling at you inside your head, twisting what other people are trying to do to help you, then you are confident that you have the authority to shut it down and tell it to shove off.
I recommend to do something symbolic if it helps. A ritual burning of photographs (YOU have the power, those bad memories are going up in smoke), a love letter to yourself ("10 things I love about ME"), or get a mean-looking ratty doll that you can easily pop off its head and watch it go flying across the room (because what that voice is telling you is ridiculous, and it feels so deliciously ridiculous to watch a doll's head fly across the room and pretend it's your mom's! Who would ever listen to someone who was so ridiculous?)
You might think that's silly, but stuff like that really helped me. I didn't do the doll's head thing, but just thinking about it right now makes me smirk a bit! 8D I wrote journals of drawing and poetry and wrote dialogue (like I mentioned above) and shared it with my therapist.
If that sort of thing interests you, try reading Christina Baldwin's book 'Life's Companion, Journal Writing as a Spiritual Quest' -- that's what inspired me. You don't have to think of 'Spiritual' in its usual associated context, but your own personal context. If I had chosen a title for the same book, I probably would have called it 'Life's Companion, Journal Writing as Meditation.' That was my choosing though, you might find some other way. It isn't for everyone, but I just thought it couldn't hurt to try everything...
First of all, if you're hearing something different and you know it, that's the first step right there. You know the voice in your head is your mother twisting things around on you again.
So if you start to hear that again, try this"
Think: Who the hell has the nerve to tell me that I am flawed after all that I've been through? I've probably been through more in one day than anything anyone has been through in their whole life.
I hope you don't mind, but I dare you to say to anyone (including that mean voice in your head) in a Monty Python fashion, that "I fart in your general direction."
When normal people are trying to help you, remind yourself it isn't like your mother's 'help.' Just because a person needs help, it doesn't mean they are a moron or an idiot (like mom probably taught you, because my mom certainly taught ME that). Smart people actually get help. So develop your 'third voice' and tell your 'adult voice' in your head to shutup and cut your 'child' in your head some slack. Get stern with yourself, but never beat yourself up. YOU'RE the one in charge here, dammit. It's YOUR head. Not your mother's.
Tell your 'adult interpreter' that she's fired, and you've hired your 'child interpreter' in her place. That way if your Big Mean Shouting Mouth starts yelling at you inside your head, twisting what other people are trying to do to help you, then you are confident that you have the authority to shut it down and tell it to shove off.
I recommend to do something symbolic if it helps. A ritual burning of photographs (YOU have the power, those bad memories are going up in smoke), a love letter to yourself ("10 things I love about ME"), or get a mean-looking ratty doll that you can easily pop off its head and watch it go flying across the room (because what that voice is telling you is ridiculous, and it feels so deliciously ridiculous to watch a doll's head fly across the room and pretend it's your mom's! Who would ever listen to someone who was so ridiculous?)
You might think that's silly, but stuff like that really helped me. I didn't do the doll's head thing, but just thinking about it right now makes me smirk a bit! 8D I wrote journals of drawing and poetry and wrote dialogue (like I mentioned above) and shared it with my therapist.
If that sort of thing interests you, try reading Christina Baldwin's book 'Life's Companion, Journal Writing as a Spiritual Quest' -- that's what inspired me. You don't have to think of 'Spiritual' in its usual associated context, but your own personal context. If I had chosen a title for the same book, I probably would have called it 'Life's Companion, Journal Writing as Meditation.' That was my choosing though, you might find some other way. It isn't for everyone, but I just thought it couldn't hurt to try everything...
NakedWombat
Member
When my mother was taking care of her terminally ill mother, I was staying there and it was a stressful situation for everybody for sure as my Grandmother did not die peacefully. However, when I was awoken by the sound of my mother continually hitting her dying mother, I stood over her and told her to put Nana in a hospital or I'd report her to the police for what she just did. So, after pushing this the next day, she did put Nana in a hospital and she died that week.
With my technique, so you understand, I got to a point in my life where I grew sick of the abuse at home, the crap at school created by my mother and the much loved son so my time at school was crap that I became anti-social. I decided to make myself stand up for myself and I was driven, I had found myself inflicting physical pain into people at high school who were my tormentors. To point where they became scared of me.
Luckily enough for myself, there was a couple nearby to where I lived who spotted the symptoms in me and when they realised what was happening, they personally helped me out a lot. They even offered me to move in with them when they were moving away but I said no. I really wanted too but I had seen my mother use her certain Government employee ID to track down anybody hurt got on her wrong side. I wasn't going to put this couple through it. Guess you could say I sacrificed myself for them. I liked them too much to see them put through all that.
With my technique, so you understand, I got to a point in my life where I grew sick of the abuse at home, the crap at school created by my mother and the much loved son so my time at school was crap that I became anti-social. I decided to make myself stand up for myself and I was driven, I had found myself inflicting physical pain into people at high school who were my tormentors. To point where they became scared of me.
Luckily enough for myself, there was a couple nearby to where I lived who spotted the symptoms in me and when they realised what was happening, they personally helped me out a lot. They even offered me to move in with them when they were moving away but I said no. I really wanted too but I had seen my mother use her certain Government employee ID to track down anybody hurt got on her wrong side. I wasn't going to put this couple through it. Guess you could say I sacrificed myself for them. I liked them too much to see them put through all that.
Man it makes me so sad and angry even now that I've put space between me and my mom. I feel for you guys, really. It's very fortunate we have this safe place to band together and point ourselves in the right direction (thanks David Baxter).
Reading what other people have gone through really validates how I feel, and makes me feel stronger. Strong enough not to feel so bad about giving myself some space from her. I don't feel like I am a bad daughter for protecting myself. I know to some degree my mother is damaged somehow, but that doesn't give her an excuse to try to damage me or anyone else...
Pheobe, you are NOT garbage!!! *hugs* You just got treated like garbage. But maybe you can sift out the really bad stuff and make compost! Gardens love compost. 8)
Reading what other people have gone through really validates how I feel, and makes me feel stronger. Strong enough not to feel so bad about giving myself some space from her. I don't feel like I am a bad daughter for protecting myself. I know to some degree my mother is damaged somehow, but that doesn't give her an excuse to try to damage me or anyone else...
Pheobe, you are NOT garbage!!! *hugs* You just got treated like garbage. But maybe you can sift out the really bad stuff and make compost! Gardens love compost. 8)
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