Since I started blogging I must say, this is the most peaceful state of mind I've ever experienced during this time of the year. The nice warm family memories is more in the forefront than ever before. I almost had to dig deep to remember how I used to dread this time of the year. Putting up the tree was chaotic but it quickly became memories of two overly excited boys "helping" to set it up. Jumping off the couch, ripping off boxes with breakable ornaments, hanging them at the very edge of the limp, boxes thrown all over the place, sound of ornament rolling on the floor and laughing children. My boy is getting so excited seeing Christmas lights. I am anticipating our trip to see the folks in a few weeks. The thought of my in-laws slaving away to put up light for my son to see is very comforting. I can't wait to see the boy's face when he sees his Papa's house all lit up. I am looking forward to taking him to the park. Seeing him play with his cousins. Getting him all dressed up and just spending time with family. This is all I've ever wanted and I will savor every minute of it.

Been a little fascinated and obsessed with a few shows regarding individuals leaving the polygamist society. I was never raised in a compound and neither do I have many mothers, but I can relate to them because I was raised with a facade.  The perfect child of a minister with his "perfect" wife. Although I never had to "escape" into the outside world, I was very ill prepared for the outside world. That's why I relate to their warp perception of the real world because I was once there. I see myself quite differently now, but it took close to twenty years for me to be where I am. The individuals in the show have so much more hurdles to overcome. If it took me twenty years, I wonder how long it will take them?

It's easy to overlook simple things in life and be grateful. For someone who at one time had lost all the basic moments, I would think that I will forever be grateful for the laughter, the daily mundane things, the quiet dinner, family time, dog barking, cat meowing, and all other things that all who has them take for granted. I am amazed at how quickly those times are now in such distant memory, to a point where it is almost forgotten. I took a moment this Thanksgiving to reflect and be grateful for my answered prayers. Prayers uttered so long ago when all else had gone wrong. Prayers uttered each time a quiet dinner was interrupted by yet another paranoid schizophrenia episode with him hyperventilating and being suspicious of random strangers in the restaurant. Prayers uttered each time a quiet evening was interrupted by his suspicion of the neighbor in another building trying to cast a spell on him by smoking. Prayers uttered each time a quiet ride home became an attempt to escape from the spy who is riding in the car next to us. Prayers uttered each time a vacation was ruin yet again. No arguments or reasoning can bring normal back.  So I prayed and I prayed. My one wish at the time was to have simple things in life back again. One would think that I will never forget and yet, I catch myself being ungrateful and irritated by stupid things. Perhaps it is human nature.

When I do take a moment to reflect, I am very grateful for this day. I do continue to say my quiet prayers. Prayers quite different from ones before. These days, I pray that God will protect me and my love ones. That God will keep us safe and most of all, I pray that God do not take away my simple things in life.

My mother in law walked out of my husband when he was five. My son is now four and a half. He is being a typical four year old and at times, he can be challenging. He is starting to push boundaries and having a mind of his own. Looking at my son, I see my husband at that age. How could his mother do that to him? To abandon that innocent little boy with little regards and having had nerve to say to my father in law as she walked out the door that "he is now your responsibility." A phrase my father in law will never forget and a phrase that made him despise her to this day.

I was watching 20/20 a few weeks ago about a story of a little boy who was abandoned at the tender age of one. He was quickly placed in a loving home. Now as a forty year old, videos of his childhood brings such sadness, because he cannot imagine who would abandon that beautiful and innocent little boy. 

As my son near the age his father was abandoned by his own mother, I can't help but envision that innocent little boy who was about to lose his mother. He loved her. He trusted her. He cried for her when she left. He had nightmares. He banged the door in the middle of the night looking for his mother. He asked where was mummy. He asked why she left. He asked when is she coming back. He cried for a long time. My husband has no recollections of those days but my father in law remembers those days as vividly today like it was yesterday.

I can only imagine how devastating it was for that little boy when he realized that she was gone for good. I am my son's world. I am the person he runs to when he is hurt. He looks for me the moment he opens his eyes. He will ask for me if I am not where I am suppose to me. His world will come crashing down if one day I am not there for him.

Perhaps it is good that my husband has no memories of those days. But without those memories, he does not see the gravity of her action. He still has a hard time cutting ties with her. Although, he is now beginning to acknowledge some of her wrongdoing against our son and even on occasions, beginning to call out of some of the things that she did not do with him or for him as a mother. Most recently when we were doing a bunch of home improvements kids workshops, he said, "my mother never brought me places to do kids stuff. She brought me to the bar." The filter of wanting a good mother is starting to peel off.  Like me, he might never cut off ties completely with her. I never did with my mother. So, it will be unreasonable for me to insist that he does. He will do what is best for him but I am please that he is beginning to see his mother as a selfish b^*&^.
 

Thinking of Opal. The first puppy I adopted as an adult. I don't know what brought me to think of her tonight. It started with a vivid memories of me and my ex-coworkers visiting the SPCA in search for a puppy for my ex who had just lost his long time companion. All of us were at the time young ladies in heals. We caused quite a stir at the rescue center. The guys were all creating a ruckus wanting us to adopt them. I asked if anyone of them were potty trained and one guy said he was and he knew how to flush. The vet came out and said "now, I have to put that one to sleep" referring the adult male who knew how to flush. It was hilarious. In the midst of it all, there was this little Shepard mix that caught my eye. I picked her and brought her to him as his birthday present, if I recall correctly. He named her Opal, after his birthstone. She was nothing like his previous dog. She was smart. She captured the heart of her greatest critic, his father, who hated dogs. She became his companion. Especially at night. She would lay by him as he sip on his night cap and ate his peanuts. She was loved. I loved her too. I was the one that potty trained her. I picked her!!! and I had to say goodbye to her. We spent our last day walking the empty field next to his parents' home. I looked her in her eyes knowing that will be our last goodbye. She went about her business. Not a care in the world and that evening we parted. I have never seen her again.

I've been checking in with my nieces the last two days. Both girls have very different needs. I have my own perspective on things that is quite different from what they are used to. But the beauty is, I am in a unique position where they do trust me enough to reach out to me. In the past, my views are often undermined by my mother. The girls are aware of grandma's hatred and resentment towards me and will never openly defy her authority. But now that she is no longer here, they no longer have that hurdle to navigate. I do catch myself getting lazy and wanting to be uninvolved. Also, the process is rather frustrating as I want them to get it now. But in reality, these take time. No one knows how long the process will be. And there is also a possibility that they will never get it. But for now, I will try to be a good aunt and be there for them. I have to stand true to myself and not enable them or cripple them anymore than they have been. My hope is to help them navigate through this hurdle and future challenges so that they can end up as winners. I can only take one step at a time. My youngest niece said that she really yearns for the day where she has a family that is filled with laughter.  I can only tell the youngest that the only way out is to stay focus and work hard. To make changes on her own behaviors and do better. Being young, she disputed my advice and feels that she has done her best. She was defensive and I can't help but see my mother in her when she acts that way. My mother is always defensive and you can never tell her how to do anything better. I hope she is different. I hope it is only the age and her immaturity that is getting in the way. The oldest is still clearly distraught by her father's cheating behaviors and her loyalty towards her mother. How I wish she can detach herself from her parents' foolishness and start to focus more on her own future. She is the caregiver and that should not be her responsibility. Unlike the little one, she didn't openly disagree. But she is still not detached. She is still very reactive and not getting anything resolve. This is only the beginning and I have remind myself to be patient. To give them a chance. To always be a soft place for them to land. To always love them. And at the end of the day, I have to accept whatever will be will be.

Received frantic messages from my oldest niece yesterday. Purging all about her father, my golden child brother's latest conquest. He is cheating again. This time with a local woman who attends the same church. Pictures of them were openly paraded on both their social media wall. He takes my youngest niece to all his rendezvous expecting her to play along, while keeping his secret. My oldest niece has had the suspicion for awhile and finally forced the truth out of her sister. In her tears, she felt torn. To tell her mother or not to tell. If she is to tell, when is a good time?

My golden child brother's cheating behavior came to light over 10 years ago. He was laying a prostitute while his wife was pregnant with their 3rd child. The truth came to light when one of my classmate decided to tell on him. My mother, whom for years has always characterized this brother of mine as the most noble, had to face the hard truth that he is a liar and a cheater. That, he is someone that cannot be trusted. Soon after the birth of my youngest niece, my sister in law decided to stay married but she packed up and left to work in a nearby country. Leaving the children with my parents.

As the oldest in the family, my niece was left to fend for herself while shouldering the responsibility to protect her younger siblings. To make matter worse, my mother hated her from the day she chose her sitter over grandma at the tender age of one. My mother did not hold back her wrath against my oldest niece. Making her life a living hell.

My niece made a decision to leave soon after the met a boy a few years ago. Staying over at his place, more often than being home. These days, she only goes by to check in on her sister. Each visit usually ends up with arguments with her father. Each visit, he will insist that she gives him money. He even went as far as insisting that she pays him to take the youngest to school. My niece pays the mortgage and the bills, while he stays jobless and use her money to pay for his woman. Apparently, there were others. The children and my parents have seen love letters sent by other women over the years. Something I had never known.

I called my niece as soon as I got those messages. While navigating my brother's foolishness, her mother came up with the brilliant idea of transferring the name of the current house to my nephew, selling it, borrowing more money from the bank and then my niece is suppose to buy another home for the family.

It came to a point during our conversation, I asked her about her aspiration. These are her parents' mistakes and at some point, I told her that she has to start thinking about herself and her future. As for the cheating, I reminded her that her parents' marriage were long gone. If the other woman wants him, we should wrap him up and deliver him straight to her doorstep. As for the plan of buying another home for the family, if she were to do that, when will she be able to buy her own home and start her own family. I reminded her that these should not be her responsibility. If she wants to help, she has to set limits. Otherwise, she is not doing justice to herself and her future.

Knowing what I know, I don't think anyone has ever told her to consider her own well-being. This niece of mine is my heart. She was the first born and I always remember how excited I was when she finally arrived. I showered her with toys and clothes, and she always know that I love her. I don't always have a chance to talk to her but when I do, I try to steer her towards the direction that will be best for her. When I first found out about the boy, I warned her about the birds and the bees. She listened and I am pleased that she has protected herself thus far. As always, I can only guide her along. It is unfortunate that her parents do not have her best interest at heart.

At this time, I can only say a prayer for her. A prayer of strength. I also pray that God sends angels to protect and guide her. I pray that God will take that burden away from her so that she can finally soar and be whom God has intended for her to be. I want to see her happy. I want to see her fulfilled. I want her to finally have someone who will love her and protect her. It is about time.

A cousin from my husband side got married today. Pictures of her proud father was posted on social network site the last few days. I felt very sad today because those pictures reminded me of what I yearned for all my life and what I never will have. It still amazes me how raw those feelings can be. I can't help but wonder what happened to our wedding album that we gave my parents as a gift. I have not seen it in years and it wouldn't surprise me, that it got thrown away. Knowing that my parents weren't be able to attend our wedding, we hired a videographer to capture the moment. They never did view the video nor did they ever shown any interest. Maybe that's why I am sad. I tried so hard to include my parents in my life and I got shot down time and time again. I can't help but wonder what goes through their mind when I got married? I know they weren't happy for me and they certainly weren't proud of me. I can't help but be a little envious that this cousin of ours to have a father who had waited all his life for this day. To see his little girl all grown up. To see her happy. To see her finally find someone who cares for her. To finally be able to walk her down the aisle. To finally have his dance as a father of the bride. What privilege it is to have such parents.

Just received a text from a childhood friend. She had just delivered a beautiful son on my son's birthday in August, and her parents and sister are there. I have known this family since I was five. We celebrated many Christmases and New Year at her grandmother's house. Those were very fond memories to say the least.They immigrated soon after and I didn't see them for years until I moved there for my first job. It was her parents that housed me for several months until I found my own place. Me and her started to bond and we became like sisters. When she finished college and moved back home, we spent many after work hours together going to movies and dinner. Soon, she settled down and through our ups and downs, we kept in touch. Separately, so did our parents.

When my mother was almost at the end of her life journey, I got a call from her, a directive from her mother for me to give my mother a call. I briefly told her my side of the story and she didn't feel that there was a need for me to tell her more. She felt that she did her part as her mother's daughter and that was that. We have never talked about my parents ever since. It was of no interest to her and our friendship remains pure to this day.

The text I received tonight was that her mother wants to talk to me before she leaves tomorrow. What would she say to me? She would kill me if she showed me with an ounce of kindness. The very fact that she is there by her daughter's side showed me yet again, my mother's abandonment of me is not cultural. The text makes me wonder if she would she try to bring up the past? If she does, it wouldn't be the first time one of my mother's friend came to try to talk some sense into this ungrateful daughter.

At this fragile state of mind, as I'm grieving my own lost, I have my past haunting me. The call from her will be a stark reminder of the past. As I am touched by her interest to touch base with me, I am also uncertain if I can handle any accusation at this time. Therefore I am yet again, an emotional wreck.

Had my first ultrasound 2 days ago and what was suppose to be my first encounter with my little one ended up with a bad news. I am pregnant with an empty sac. The news is devastating to say the least. What is comforting is the outpouring of love and support from friends and family. Coworkers are understanding and allowing me space to grieve. My in laws called and on some level, it is harder for them. They have to grieve for this loss and also cope with the sense of helplessness for being so far from us.  My 2nd brother called to check in, and will call again tomorrow after my procedure. He wasn't there when I had my first miscarriage. Years later when he found out what I went through, he felt rather bad. Looking back, we are beginning to bond like normal siblings. Close friends are cautious. Checking in via text to see if I am ok to talk. I called a few and a few called me. A friend who had gone through infertility talked about the loss of the anticipation and all the planning thus far. I can't help but agree. We had already discussed this child's future. Things like saving for college, paying for insurance, configuring the house, to buy or not to buy new crib, when to take down all the baby items from the attic, names, the vision of my son being the big brother, and the list goes on and on and on.

My narcissistic mother in law is oblivious to the pregnancy. We never did tell her and glad that we didn't. She would have said something that is socially expected but with nothing invested. My own narcissistic mother is now gone. She never did care for all the ones that I had loss previously and if she's alive today, she wouldn't have cared anymore than she did. My last visit before she passed was soon after a failed IVF. Not only did she not care, she didn't welcome my visit after not having seen me for over 3 years. In fact, it was a close family friend who gave me herbal supplements as attempts to nurse me back to health. She was also flabbergasted at the level of disregard my parents had towards me. It is good not to have to deal with my narcissistic mother ever again. But sadly I can still hear her hatred in the back of my head. I can still sense her joy for every pain that I go through.  I also did not tell my golden child big brother about this pregnancy. If my niece had not told him, he will probably be completely oblivious to this event. Although he has a soft spot in his heart for me, he is my mother's flea. He will echo what mother's attitude and I really don't need that at this time.

So here I am in an emotional valley. And as always, I have the love of my friends. I have a husband who is grieving along with me. I have the love of my in laws. But to add to the mix, I have my 2nd brother, my blood who actually gives a damn.

Lately there seems to be an increased of tragedies related to guns. Tied in with that, the perpetrators more often than not, suffer from some form of mental illness. And every time someone takes a person's life driven by psychosis, I am still amazed that I am still alive today. While the fear is no longer raw, it is ingrained in my mind. Having to turn my back to make sure he was not there. Having my heart jumped out of my chest when I saw a shadow that resembles him. Having to stay quiet when he came knocking at my door. Those were some very unpleasant years. But here I am. Alive and well.

We were innocent lovers. He was a sweetheart and never in my wildest dream did I ever imagine that he could be ill. And when it hit, it gave me no warning. He went from someone with spunk and rough on the edges, to someone with hollow eyes, hyperventilating, and living in fear of everything that moved. Living in fear that someone was going to harm him. Every move was a threat. Every color was signs for a violent act. Every gesture meant imparting some form of secret messages that he was fearful of. Anyone who was within his eye sight was potential victim. Anyone who drove by his house, was following him. As he became progressively worse, his thoughts were finally put into actions. Started with a push of a random stranger in the street, to burning down a bus stop. Over time, I had to admit that my life was in danger. That at any time, I could be a target. At any time, he could turn on me. That's when I began to plot for my departure.

I remember that day so vividly. I got dressed. Left the house like I was going to work while he left to look for a job. I went to the beach instead. It was a work week. The beach was quiet. I sat on the rock. I looked down at my feet with tears streaming down my face. Then I looked over the horizon. I saw hope. I looked at my watch and it was time to return. I knew my window of opportunity was small. Met up with 2 friends. We took my personal belongings. I looked at our apartment, bit farewell, and walked out the door. A friend took me in. Gave me a bed. That night, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I looked up the ceiling and cried my eyes out.

I did it all with friends by my side. No support from anyone who was suppose to be my family.

What makes a bitch a bitch? That is the question? For some reason, what makes it okay for some people to slam others and have no remorse? I am encountering one at work right now. I don't know if she is a true bitch or if she is just abrasive. What differentiates the two? Well, the true bitch feels entitled and will get what she wants at any cost. The abrasive one is just clueless and has no social graces, which I can tolerate. In fact, I have ended up as good friends with some of the abrasive ones. So far, I'm not sure if I should confront this person, let it go, or wait and see. But I'm almost certain that I need to bring it up to the attention of my immediate supervisor. Gotta cover my b.e.h.i.n.d.  Maybe next time she "lecture" me, I will have to call her out.....in a nice way. Cos' I'm not a bitch, just by choice only when necessary.

Joel Osteen “ you may have made choices that delayed your destiny, but you can still become who God has created you to be.”

This quote ring so true to me. In my life time, I have to delay just about every aspect of my life. Had to delay my education because I had to save enough money to do so. I had to delay having a family because I messed up the first time. Had to delay having children because I immigrated and had to get my career going first. After 40 plus years, things are finally falling into place.

It is rather interesting, at every stage of delay, I felt like I was so far behind. After high school, it seems that all my peers have a path set out for them. I was very envious as I had nothing set out for me. I knew if I wanted a higher education, I had to hustle and I did just that. Got a job, save my butt off and went for it. During that whole time, I didn't know how and when that dream will ever come true. It was extremely daunting.

When I had my first job, I was four five years older than my peers.I felt like I had missed opportunities being the “older” one in the group. But looking back, the four five years is not that big of a deal anymore. Today, professionally and personally, I am right where everyone is. In fact, working before going to school gave me a different perspective of life that my peers didn't have. Now I appreciate the detour but back then, it was unsettling.

When my first marriage ended , again I felt like having had missed opportunities. I was surrounded by my younger peers who had just found love. Who had just bought their first home and expecting their first child. At the time, everyone had someone and I felt that I will never find anyone. That I will never have a home to call my own. It was extremely painful to have to walk away from everything. To have to walk away with nothing but a suitcase and the clothes on my back. At the time, I never thought I will ever be able to pick myself up again. But I did and I did find someone. The home, the house with a yard, a dog and a cat all just happened like we've never missed a beat.

Soon after that we immigrated. I ended up taking jobs that I was over qualified for. I had to pursue higher education to get back in the field I was practicing for over 5 years. I had to suck it up and it took 7 years for all things to fall in place. Through it all, I was very aware of my biological clock ticking. We took no precaution and there were no results. Finally, the reality of infertility set in especially when I started to realize that friends who married later are beginning to have their 2nd, 3rd, or even 4th child. It was a humbling experience. Through different twist and turn, we finally have our first child 8 years into our marriage and now, 4 more years later, we are expecting our 2nd child. 12 years in the making.

Just like how I reacted to my previous delays, this delay also made me feel like I may have started a little too late. I start to question if I am too old for taking such risk. If I will be around long enough. I can't help but see my peers talk about their children applying for colleges, or at least high school. My eldest is only 4. He is not even in first grade. But like every twist and turn of my life, I have to trust that things will fall into place. That I am really not that far behind. That there is no such thing as missed opportunities.

Today I just have to trust the Almighty. Once I was the one who is a step or two behind, today I feel like I am a few steps ahead.  A loving husband, a beautiful son, another on the way, plus a dog, cat, and turtle in the mix, a home to call my own, a self sustaining career, and many many more other blessings. If delay takes me here, the wait is well worth it.

They say that a moth represent a visit from the one who passed.

It was merely a day or two after my mother passed, there was a moth at the screen door that opens up to my front door. I was rather taken aback, almost shocked by it when I was greeted by the big creepy eyes on it's wings. My first gut reaction was to say "what's the point of visiting now when you weren't interested when you were alive?" I then closed the door. That moth never came back.

My father passed away a few weeks before my trip back to see him. We were just busy packing and getting ready for the 20-30 hours trip. We went about as usual and after visiting friends and my family, we went back to one of closest friend's home. We were visiting at her dining table and a moth came fluttering in. I said, "that's my dad." She said, "how you know it's not your mum?" I said, "because my mum had already came." It was then, that her husband walked in, saw the moth, picked up a magazine and started to swipe at it. My friends hollered at her husband, "leave it alone!" and he did. He left the moth alone, and soon, it fluttered away. This moth was smaller and didn't have the evil eyes.

Haven't seen another moth since.

We just found out that we are expecting our 2nd child. It is yet another answered prayer. This time I will carry this child without the existence of my narcissistic mother. She was never there through my miscarriage and the whole pregnancy of my son. So one would say that there is no difference this time from the last time. But there is a HUGE difference. This time, I don't have a debbie downer. I don't have to carry the pain of wanting her affection. I don't have to yearn for what was never there. I don't have to try to be nice only to be shot down with the most hurtful accusation. I don't have to live knowing that my narcissistic mother don't care if I live or die. I don't have to experience her jealousy towards my son, her own flesh and blood. This time, I get to carry this child without her shadow casting on my back. The thought itself gives me a tremendous sense of serenity.

Her name was YS. My parents rented her a room while she was teaching at a local high school. She lived with us for several years and was like an older sister to me. Soon, she fell in love. She had a lover's spat when he had his eyes on another more attractive teacher. But they got married and moved to a nearby town. It was right around that time, my parents were kicked out of the synagogue. We moved to the same town and I went to the same high school that she was teaching. She ignored me completely the entire time I was there. As if, I never existed. I despised her from then onwards and my feelings towards her have not changed to this day.

That name resurfaced years later. My mother had nothing but good things to say about her. She gave my mother money. Sponsored my nephew and niece for camps. She let my oldest brother stayed at her house when he was working momentarily at the town she was living in. My mother went all out to convince me to like this person that she once had nothing good to say about her. How quickly her perception changed for a few dollars. She wanted me to visit her. She kept saying how great YS was.
I told my mother that I would never visit her. In reference to her hospitality, I told my mother that I would rather sleep in a car than sleep at her house.

I soon found out that she just started a new church and her effort was nothing but an attempt to recruit for new members. There was nothing genuine in her effort. She still never cared. She was nosey and inquired about the money that I sent to my parents. She tried to convince a few others to leave their church and join hers. It was ridiculous. Others were not swayed. Not like my mother.

My mother lived her life like a little kid in the playground. All it took was a candy to buy her affection. Childish and shallow.

It just occurred to me that I don't keep a regular contact with either one of my brothers. One I have little respect of but I also know he has a soft spot for me. One, who is completely in line with me in terms of my perception of our family dynamics. I don't ever discuss with my oldest brother regarding my true sentiment and I wonder how he would react if I simply send him the link to my blog. Would it be a rude awakening? Would it make him mad? Confused? I don't know. I might just do that in time. My second brother has the link but I don't think he is reading it on a regular basis. If he is, he has made little comment or reference to it. I also realized that each time we spoke, it is always about how crazy our parents were. It has become a broken record for both of us. Other than that, we don't really have anything else in common. Even if we do, we don't really know how to relate to each other in a healthy way. It is rather bizarre. For the first time, I am beginning to question, what a healthy sibling relationship should look like?

I've heard time and time again about others who are very close to their brother or sister. I used to be very close to my oldest  brother. When I first joined the airline and living in another country, I used to call home and spoke to him hours on end. There was a tremendous amount of ease when communicating with him even when we never had anything truly in common.  My relationship with my second brother when we were little was often overshadowed by sibling jealousy. He always wanted to be the best and I always trumped his card. Always getting more attention being that I was the only girl and always doing a little better than him in school. My brothers' relationship with each other is not even an option to consider. They were on the opposing team from the get go and it had been so to this day.

These days, I thread very lightly with my oldest brother. He had publicly echoed my mother's sentiment about me on social network site. In person, he was very much the same older brother that I knew. My relationship with my second brother was more intimate when we were living in the same country. He visited at least once a year and was here when my son was born. Since he left, our contact with each other have dwindled rather significantly.

Today, we are three grown adults in three parts of the world. Doing our own thing, having our own history, and licking our own wounds. What would we do if one of us need a kidney and the other one is the perfect match? Would we be willing to sacrifice to preserve the life of another?  I think we would be very judgmental.  I am beginning to wonder how I can start to initiate a healthy relationship with my brothers. Maybe I need to make it a point to connect with my brothers on a more regular basis. Maybe I need to get in touch with them and just be a sister. By doing so, maybe we can start to create new memories away from our past.
                               

My father passed away a year ago right on Father's Day. I had actually forgotten about it. Intellectually, how can one even forget a day like that but psychologically, it made perfect sense. When he died, it was the accusations that my relatives that infuriated me more than anything. I didn't really miss him. He had not been there much at all. He merely existed.

I did have one fond memory of my father. A blur memory of us playing peek-a-boo on the bed. I must have been between 2-3 years old and I was laughing so hard. For that one moment, I was daddy's little girl. I have no other fond memory of him. As he aged, he became my mother's transcript. Putting all her wrath on letters to mock us. Over time, he simply existed. He was like an empty shell with no soul.

Father's day was non existent when I was growing up to say the least. The level of my mother's hatred towards my father, there was no way she would have bothered to spend a day celebrating him as a dad. Over the years, I did send him a handful of father's day cards. The last one I sent him was right after he had a stroke over 10 years ago. I was told that he stared at the card everyday for a long long time. It appeared to touch his heart. For that brief moment, there was a person in that empty shell.

As the day approaches, I will be celebrating this day with my husband whom 3 years ago, finally became a father. He deserves every bit of hype and adoration for all that he has done. His heart is in the right place and he would give anything for our son. That will be our father's day tomorrow and I am looking forward to it.

I am a fan of the Long Island medium and I always wonder who would step forward for me. Just this weekend I sat under the custard apple tree playing with my son. The tree gives a very strong connection to my father. He had always lavished me with my favorite fruit and I can't help but feel his presence every time I'm by that tree. I don't hate my father quite like my mother. Although, I must admit that his letters towards the end, certainly did not rekindle any fuzzy feelings. My dad was an irony. He was almost simple minded. He did not need much to please him. He was happy wearing the most raggedy clothes and he really didn't care what others thought about him. His one passion was catching river prawns. He could spend all day doing just that. Even as he aged, he would drop a net by his secret location on his way to town and pick up his catch for the day as he headed home in his old scooter. One time, he was gone so long, we thought something might have happened to him. Instead, he came home during dusk with almost 10kg of prawns. We ate so much prawns for the next few months that I was sick of it for years. That was my father. I guess looking back, he does have a special place in my heart. But I'm not sure if he'll step forward if there's a medium in town. What would he say to me? Would the words finally come directly from his heart? One can only wonder.

My second brother's visa expired before my son turned one and he had to return to our home country. For other family, it would have been natural to use the time to spend more time with immediate family. But my family is no ordinary family and my second brother ended up living with a close family friend for the duration of time he was there. He didn't even tell our parents that he was in the country and he really did not want to go see them. While he probably would deny this, he was hurt by them. While he had enough sense to dismiss all the years of accusations, it took a toll on him. Subsequently it was I who convinced him to at least pay a visit so that mum and dad can see him and not so much for him to go see them . They visited for a few hours and they cried. Mum was probably pathetic. Playing the sick victim role and crushed that she was abandoned. Knowing my mother, she can certainly string it out. She never took any responsibility for all the cruel remarks that she had made and the lies that she had concocted over the years. The countless time her hatred towards us was on the forefront simply because she wanted more money. Pictures of their brief visit were not pleasant to look at to say the least. Mum looked bad and so did dad. They had no life and I was completely shocked by their appearance. To some extent, it almost seemed that she was waiting for that last visit from my brother so that she could do what she had planned. That is to end her own life.

I just responded to a comment on the online support group on a similar incident. Her mother also took her own life by stopping all medications.  It was interesting that I caught myself ending my response by saying that I did not regret not going to see my mother on her death bed because she did not deserve to have one last visit with me. I feel very strongly that she took her life as an attempt to put one last dagger in her children. For us to regret what we did to her. I just can't forgive her for not only the years of emotional manipulation, she took it to the end and tried to leave us in an emotional shamble. It just mind boggling that someone is capable of something so cruel. It is so bizarre.

I remembered years ago when I was in highschool, I lived away from my family in another town. My parents moved away and I wanted to stay back to finish the year at my school. With the help of the pastor, I was placed with a family for a few months. While they were very gracious in having me, my stay with the family resurfaced their unresolved issues. Along the way, I was hurt and so were they. My mother concluded the conflict as jealousy. She felt that I, her daughter was "better" and hence, their daughter was jealous and made my life a living hell. Their daughter did make my life with them rather challenging but looking back, she had her reason to feel how she felt.

I remembered my mother basking on this incident and told just about everyone her version. Putting me on the pedestal and undermining what they did for me. Calling them "crazy" and disregarding their hospitality. While she took my side, it didn't soothe my soul. My mother knew the content of their pain but had no compassion whatsoever for this family. I was confused and unsettled. I was very hurt to say the least. I was just a girl caught in between. I had to keep my mouth shut and played along. When the day came for them to ask me to leave, it was painful. I accepted it and I left having to heal my own wound. After I left, I  kept my distance with the family. The only way I knew how. That was the only way they knew too. I did run into the mother years later at another church. We did not greet each other. That was the last time I saw any one of them in person.

I do think about them once in awhile. The family did impact my life for the good and the bad. The mother once said something that took me years to finally realized what she meant. The father was a gentle soul who loved me. The brother knew where the turmoil was. He never took side and he always had this quiet wisdom about him. The daughter was hurt and I reminded her of the source of pain. She was a girl too at the time and taking it out on me was the only she knew how. Getting rid of me was the easiest way out for them. It helped to eliminate the "reminder" but I don't think it helped them face the true problem. I see things quite differently now. I don't fault them for hurting me. As much as I wish that they will find their peace, I don't think they ever did take the time to heal their pain. I hope I am wrong.

The rationale self delivered today. My heart did not pump quite as hard as before when the meeting began. I took control and was able to put forth a sound argument. I was able to silent the beast and get the best possible outcome. I am pleased. While I want to celebrate, I will have to hold it off for at least till the end of the week. I checked my email this afternoon, nothing from the attorney. It was a relief. I didn't give in but I compromised where I had to. I gave in 10% of the demands and I think, I have come out of this ahead of the game. It is only the beginning. The beast is not that fierce this time around. I don't like to battle with them but it comes with the job. This time I survived unscathed and I hope through my career, it will remain so.

It has been a very stressful day but looking back, several pieces were definitely put in place by the Almighty in my favor. A person brought in by the opponent took immediate liking to me. It definitely ease the tension in the room. That can only be of divine intervention. The attorney was much younger than I had anticipated. One with some jargon but due to her lack of experience, was not able to sustain her argument. It made it easier for me. I had nothing against her but I certainly annoyed her when I interjected her. I didn't think she had a chance to finish a sentence nor made point. I had to defend my work when she had the nerve to suggest that I failed mine. I took everything in consideration including her requests/demands - some of which were down right ridiculous. Which I kindly did not embarrass her in front of the entire committee. She is an attorney and she looks at numbers. I look at the well being of the person. I said what I said not with the intention to put her down. I said what I said in the best interest of my client. In the end, I felt that I have given my client the best chance within the circumstances.

However, this entire battle did not come with my client's best interest at heart. The person simply want to battle any cost. The person derive attention from creating issues that are not even there. The song and dance that I have to do can be extremely frustrating. This person will continue to fight, just because. I see my client chances of life being taken away from him right before me. I have no authority to change things. Professionally,   I have stalled it long enough to get it out of my hair. But I can't help but see the damage that is to come.  It's a shame that there are so many of these kinds in the world who take pleasure in destroying what is perfectly made.

I have been the most assertive today than I've ever been since coming to this country. It was the very few time I was able to articulate myself, stand on my truth and sway the opinion of the foe. I was able to take account of the attorney's request and refuse the demands based on my professional assessment. But this feeling of accomplishment was soon overtaken by my insecurity. I have not been able to sleep the last few nights. I try to forget it but it has been difficult.

It's my rationale self battling this inner child's fear. My rationale self is trying to calm her down. My rationale self is trying to reassure her but it is not working. My rationale self knows that I have done all that I could. I went with my gut and I ran with it. My inner child wants to retreat to a corner. I am trying to settle her down and I can't. She is still scared. I hope tomorrow, my rationale self will stay in the forefront. It is not a battle that should be fought. But crazies are everywhere and my rationale self knows that you do what you have to do and even if the outcome may not be favorable, it is still ok. 

Good luck to me, my rationale self says. I will be there for you my inner child.

Was watching a reality show about a couple who just met their adopted son. I relate so well to their struggles and the blessing of finally being a parent. In the past, shows like this brought a sharp pain to my heart as I see how others gain support from their family during the ups and downs of life. I am beginning to realize that my forefront reaction is becoming more and more about my immediate family and not about my past. I see that little boy and I see my son. They are about the same age and I can't imagine what that little boy is going through having to leave his home land to be with strangers. I cannot fathom the fear in that child for I know, it would have been hard for my little guy if he had to be taken away from us and given to another family. But I also feel that overwhelming sense of "how can I be so lucky" to finally have a child to call my own. I remember how I felt in the hospital room. It was so surreal to finally hear my son cry for the first time, and still is. And it is so true as they said it, the struggles seemed like a distance memory. I almost have to dig deep to remember how hard it was. It was a good feeling to have a sense that I am moving forward.

It's hard to talk to others about my narcissistic mother. For years, others simply dismissed my plea by saying that she meant well, it's cultural, or you know how old people are. While others meant well, these comments really made me feel unvalidated and extremely frustrating. Over time, I just don't say much except for a few. Perhaps only one friend who saw me battle it out all on my own. Who saw my bruise and acknowledge my strength. Today, my battle is not quite as intense anymore and I'm glad. But I am not letting her "glory" go with her to the grave. I hate her!

Conscious memory is quite different from the unconscious. However, the unconscious sometimes present itself when we least expects it. While in my earlier post, I can only recall a somewhat happy childhood, I also realized that every time I envision where I come from, I always envisioned it as a place of misery. A place that is less than. I always envisioned being rescue or doing something that will improve or remove me or take me away from where I was. Therefore, how can my childhood be happy? If it was happy and full of contentment, I would want to stay or emulate. None of that is true. Today as I look back, I still feel that same dissatisfaction. Not because I was ever physically abused but I certainly went through years of emotional blackmail. That left scars unseen to others. Scars hidden even from me for years to come. I guess I can't pick my past but I am glad I left.

Mother's Day finally arrived.

My spirit is serene and melancholy. I am at peace with myself and my decision to celebrate only with the most deserving. I don't miss my own mother and I have no memory of any Mother's Day with her. As my facebook friends bombarded their wall with wishes of this special day, I am torn by the public display. Given my own mother was a narcissistic, there isn't much to say about her as a mother. But also, given that I personally have experienced infertility, I have had the pain of going through this day. The most painful is when I lost my baby days before Mother's Day. When flowers were delivered to my door, the "Happy Mother's Day" greeting dropped me to the floor with overwhelming grieve. I will never forget that day. I guess that is my source of sadness. Losing that child. But while I grieve, I am also beyond happy to have my little one to hug and to hold. I am truly blessed.

As this day inches to the end, I think of my other friends who are still trying to be called mother. I am also reminded of the ones who has to celebrate this day without their mother and I can't help but see images of a little girl who went too soon.

That's why I am serene and melancholy. After months of turmoil, at least I no longer feel a sense of sheer hatred.

Mother's Day - used to be a day that I dread. The call home that was greeted with a short and curt remark. On my in-law side, my husband always buy the 2 cards for his mothers, his step mother who raised him and one for the one who birth him whom I nickname as the merry go round. Signed with all our names on it.This year, I picked out a simple key holder from hallmark for my true mother in-law and had nothing to do with the other one. I didn't ask my husband if he bought her one and I didn't care. Even if he did buy her a card, he knew I didn't care. I am very pleased not to be a part of "her" mother's day. She is not mother. She simply birth a son and that's the extent of her status. His step mother always sent me a card too and my husband, without fail will have something for me. The negativity with my own mother over the years, over shadowed all the goods. Last year, it was nice that I didn't have to dread making the call home to a unhappy person, but I was still emotionally invested in the card for the broken merry go round. Although it was not as overwhelmingly draining, last year I didn't take the time to rethink and redefine "mother."My true in-laws always took time to find the most gracious card to express how they felt about me but I never knew how to feel grateful when I was appreciated. I wouldn't say that I knowingly undermined my husband's effort but I do feel lost about the nice things that he did. To a point that I had forgotten about my son's sheer excitement of the bouquet that my husband brought home last year for mother's day. He was so ecstatic. He smelled the flowers and cracked us up when he said that they were delicious. This year I told myself that I will begin to redefine motherhood. That the word mother should remind me of me, and not her. Since then, I noticed that I have a change in perspective. For once, I feel authentic. For once I feel like I finally look forward to the day. The day that I want to celebrate my fortune of being so blessed to be called a mother. For once, the word mother actually put a smile on my face.

What is LOVE?

Being raised by one who is incapable of true love, I begin to wonder what is love? Looking back, I've always known how to love. I love who I am yesterday and even more today. I've always loved my pets, my seashells, and even my parents, until I realized that they have not loved me. I love my ex and I was willing to give my life for him. Only because I knew even my life could not cure him, that I walked away. Today, my love is for my husband and my son. Today, my love is much more vulnerable than it has ever been. I am willing to expose myself and all my weaknesses and let it be. I am willing to take a chance on life. I am not afraid. With my husband, the love is about our journey. Through thick and thin. We hit some bumps along the way and we have grown. I love that about us. My son is my heart. Unlike my parents, my love for him does not come with a hidden clause. I love him for who he is and I can't wait to see who he is going to be. I want to be around for him. To see him grow, be a man, a father, and be all that he can be in whatever path that he chooses. It is exciting.

Then I wonder about the ones that are incapable of love. The ones who are not willing to hold my hands and walk with me but tried to pull me to another direction at whatever cost. The ones who are too afraid to let go. How sad it is for the ones who are incapable of love. How much they have missed out on life because they are not willing to be vulnerable. Life is for the living and I have one life to live. I am not willing to miss out on any of the good things simply because I am holding back and not letting go.

For now, it is yet the best years of my life. I will look back on this day and be proud because I know what love is.

Since I made the decision to never visit my Narcissistic mother in law again, I have this sense of elation. I just can't wait for Christmas to come by quick enough so that I can tell her that we will not be visiting her ever again. It is almost sadistic but I'm loving it. I have all these scripts in my head and I almost can see her face of disbelieve and disempowerment. The queen is finally dethroned and there is a new queen who is ready to kill. The more I think of it, the more I hate her. The more I want nothing to do with her. I don't even care if something does happen to her. She can't guilt me. I won't go to her funeral. I don't care if she leaves me a will or not. She is nothing but a pain until the day she is gone for good.

The word "mom" seems to jolt an unpleasant feeling within me. Right away it brings me back to the one who betrayed me. But now that I am a mom, I need to redefine the meaning. Only yesterday I made a conscious choice to link positive feeling to that word. The word "mom" from this day forth should remind me of me, and not her. Only time will heal this wound and bring back the true meaning of "mom."

Who hurt more? Me or her?

I can't imagine living a life as a narcissistic person where everything is viewed as a personal attack. Every differences is like a stab straight to the heart. It must hurt so bad that she had to retaliate at every corner. Then again, is that really the reason a narcissistic attacks? I think not. She attacked in hopes of submission. It used to work when I was little. Then again, it never did work. It just kept me dormant for awhile. I guess for awhile, she thought she had me. I didn't even know what was going on. I just knew how to act. Later in life when I began to go my own way, it must have burned her soul. I had no idea that it hurt her so. All I knew is that she hurt me so. Her efforts to beat me down to submission backfired on her. As I drew myself further away, I gained more clarity. She kept beating even when she couldn't draw me an inch closer. In the end, the pushed me to the edge of shear rage and hatred. In the end, who hurt more? me or her? I think both. But the difference is, I have one source of hurt, she has a multitude. My source, though is gone, the scar remains. A scar that was recently ripped opened by yet another narcissistic. Her pain is always raw. It always bleed. There is never an opportunity to heal.  I hope my scar will one day be fully healed. I know it is far from being healed because recently it only took that one other person to take me back to that state of shear hatred and rage. That person made me retaliate as well. But this time, I am comfortable retaliating. I think it is long overdue.

So, have I answered my own question? In some way I have and in some way, I have not. I still feel that we both hurt. Does it really matter who hurt more?

I work closely with families. Most only wants the best for their children but every once in awhile I run into parents who try to use the platform for personal agenda. It is never obvious but I am one huge skeptic.

It was only recently that I heard a parent in tears, crying in the hallway about "how her life is spiraling out of control" as she approached the office that I was in. My colleagues were kind to offer her water, tissue, and a few kind words. I realize that I don't offer up my compassion quite that quickly. In fact, my first reaction is to doubt the person. Her tears soon went away. A little too quick in my opinion, given her claim that her children apparently were abducted. That there were supposedly an amber alert and that her ex was arrested but bailed out of jail. What a storyline! I have no proof that she is lying or exaggerating but she also offer no proof of the truth. So, I merely said "oh, I'm sorry" and proceeded with our meeting.

Every time when I encounter individuals like her, I can't help but envision my own mother making such ludicrous claim about me. The story line may be different but the magnitude of the wrongdoings are just as monumental. Reactions from others are quite similar. Over pouring of compassion towards the story teller while the accused have no voice.

As a professional, I stand impartial. I don't judge but I remain skeptical. Unless and I until I see the amber alert or read it in the paper, I am not buying into it, for I have stood in the position of the accused for too many years.

Being told that we can't afford anything all my life, I didn't have any reference to how much things actually cost when I first started working. I was afraid to spend. I remember the first time I went into an electronic store and realized that I could well and truly afford a video player was almost a monumental event. It was a small fraction of what I thought it would cost. It was like bringing a thousand dollars to buy a bottle of  nail polish.

Being told that we can't afford anything all my life also made me want to spoil my mother who had such a "hard life." In the beginning, I bought her stuff like a pair of beautiful sandals. For a brief moment she was happy to receive the gift but soon her insecurity set in. It looked awkward on her. The sandals was soon discarded and disregarded. Over time, I have bought her chocolates and other gourmet food, such as abalone for the New Year. She liked the chocolates but didn't know how to cook the abalone. Fresh food was harder to carry but I did it anyways. Usually by the time they arrived, the freshness was somewhat compromised, and she did not hesitate to insult my effort. One time my sister in law actually said something in my defense. That I brought it all the way because I didn't have the heart to eat it for myself, and it was true.

Towards the last few years of her life, every gifts that I sent were blatantly rejected. It didn't matter even if it was something that she liked.  In the end, I just stop trying. I didn't need to hear another  "we could have gotten it here" or "why did you waste your money." Never a "thank you" or "I really like it." To a novice, it almost sounded like she cared but truth is, she really didn't care that I "wasted my money," she was just upset that she didn't get to waste my money. That she can't use my money to afford everything she wanted.

It just dawned on me to look at that little girl in the picture, standing bare feet on the tree. She was tough kid. She was very observant and knew her way around. She was smart. In school, she was either a teacher's pet or a major pain. Nothing in between. Only those who appreciated her independence were able to love her. Anyone with an ounce of insecurity, could not handle her, because she was very curious. A couple of times when she has gotten in trouble for "challenging" her teacher which to this day she is convinced that her teacher was wrong. I love her. I think she is a great kid. I wouldn't change a thing about her.

My husband has been trying to comprehend the new notion of having a narcissistic mother. Asking questions like why she did what she did. I was not as curious. I really didn't care for the why. I looked at the actions and acted upon it. The why is completely immaterial to me. But now, I'm put in a position to explain narcissistic behaviors and why she did what she did and I really don't have all the answers.

Does she know what she is doing? I do believe she does know.  I believe the put downs were deliberate. I believe all the actions serve a purpose to glorify herself.  Is it conscious? perhaps not entirely but it started somewhere. Along the way, she gained enough courage to be brash and the reward of intimating others must be so fulfilling that over time, she has mastered the skill. Using it to get in bed, attention, and maybe jewelry. But failing to see that, while she thought she has the upper hand, karma is now biting her in her ass. Over the years, she must have offended too many people. Having lived in a little town for over 30 years, she really has no true friends but a couple of drunken cronies at the local bar. As she realized that we are all she has, she attempted to hide her narcissistic ways for a second or two. Making pathetic attempts to manipulate and cry for attention. Futile attempt for sympathy and covering it up her true intention by making claims that she wants to spend more time with our son. I see right through her and I'm not buying it.

But at the same time, I can just imagine how lonely she must be right now. Alone in the cold trailer. With the recent break-ins, she doesn't even have her jewelries to surround herself with. She is reverting back to that lost little girl looking for love. A love that she couldn't find. A love that she didn't recognize when handed to her in a platter. The days of the blonde bombshell is long gone but a graying old lady acting like a fool is here. I still don't care for her. I don't care how she became who she is. I don't care about her past. Right now, she is not conducive for me and my family and I want her out. I still stand by my decision to cut contact. The why is still unimportant to me personally.

My Narcissistic Mother in Law (N-MIL) left my husband when he was five. A past that for years my husband thought nothing of it. His father on the other hand has never hide his hatred towards this woman. For years, she assumed it was because she left him but over the years, the truth is beginning to unravel itself.

She was rude and condescending towards me from the first moment we met. She went out of her way to try to break off our engagement and end the wedding. She made it known to me that I am not worthy. Not worthy of her son? or simply unworthy? The way she treated me was extremely upsetting for both of us. While her action didn't affect my husband's decision to marry me, it certainly crossed my mind to break the engagement and to get on with my life. My husband confided in his father and step mother. They pretty much told him that she was never there for him and what right does she have to interfere with his choice. They also comforted me and made me feel accepted. We went ahead with the wedding. She made claimed that his step mother dominated everything and refused to let her get involved. Since she griped about not having the opportunity to be involved, we assigned her the duty to make the favors. Which she did, The results were pathetic packets of mints. At the wedding, his father made it known to everyone that he couldn't stand her. At the time, it was very hard for me to be around her as well. His father and I quickly bonded as we happily avoided her in every possible way. She came to the wedding and left hurriedly. Giving us nothing more than a hundred bucks.

Over the years, his father and step mother, once in awhile gave me insights about my N-MIL. Secrets that they have withheld from my husband as he was growing up to protect him. Over the years, as my N-MIL makes claim to be the mother of the century, I have said a couple of things to make my husband question her reality. She blatantly would make it seems like she has integrity because she has never cheated. But in the same token, she proudly proclaimed her rendezvous with married men soon after she abandoned my husband. Putting things in perspective, I remember telling my husband to think what it must have been like for his grandparents and father when she slept around town. Forty plus years ago, words travel, and people lived with dignity, value, and pride. They endured her actions without a word of malice in front of my husband.

Yesterday in the midst of our conversation, I told him yet another secret. A secret long overdue that I felt he needed to hear. His father has told me this years before and this visit, he said it again. As we visited, he recalled the day she walked out like it was yesterday. He told her that if she leaves, she will never to return. She packed her bag to go and when he asked her about their son, she blatantly told him that "he is your responsibility." With that, she left him behind. I could see the raw emotion in my father in law's eyes as he talked about it. The sheer hatred towards her for disregarding their five year old. When I told my husband what his mother had said as she walked out on him, I could see the hurt in his eyes. What is more sad is that, it didn't surprise him. He is getting a glimpse of her true self simply by the way she treated our son. For once yesterday he said "then why did Ed said she was a good mother?" as he referred to his step father. I can't answer that question but I also know that for years, he wanted to believe that he has a good mother too.

As secrets are revealed, he is beginning to confront the truth. Now that she is ailing and trying to come back into our lives, I reminded him that it was her that abandoned him first. I reminded him that as she cried about the stolen ten thousand dollars worth of jewelry, she never put in a dime in child support to raise him. She took him here and there, only when it was convenient for her. She came like a stranger, taking him away as he cried in distress. She never did once care for him. For that, I have no sympathy for her. She made her own bed and she can jolly well lay on it.  I am quite alright letting her die alone. She can no longer come into my house and I no longer will be visiting her. When I expressed my intention to cut all ties with my N-MIL, his father and step mother didn't say anything to persuade or dissuade me.  Only thing mentioned was that they knew the truth will one day reveal itself. It must be a long awaiting battle for them. I know within them, they are pleased that we are beginning to see the truth. We laughed as I said that it only took me twelve years to figure things out.

I still leave my husband to make his own choice about this horrible woman whom he called mum. He needs to sort things out for himself. It has to be his choice to remain in contact or otherwise. While he is beginning to be swayed by my conviction, he is also burdened by his loyalty towards her. This is his battle. While I will stand by him in his choice, I will also be me. It has worked for us all these years and why would this phase be any different. 

Took my father and mother in law to the airport. My husband's dad and step mum. They spent a week with us and we had a blast. I was sad to see them go. What a difference compared to his crazy narcissistic mother's three day whirlwind visit with hidden agenda. It was nice that my son get to experience what's it's like to have an extended family. He bonded with them quickly and even told on me to his papa. The funny thing is, even the dog bonded with them. I must thank the heaven above for them. If it wasn't for them, even I wouldn't have known what's it's like to have parents and grandparents. For a brief moment, I get a glimpse of true love. Love that I was deprived of from my very own.

Before my crazy MIL arrived, my husband and I said "we can't tell her no" and now I say "why did we say we can't say no?" We have every right to say "no" and we should have said "no." Amazing how two grown adults who make daily life decisions find it so hard to confront a narcissistic mummy dearest.

My golden child brother has been posting pictures of my parents in their last days on his facebook page. Appears to me that he may be missing them. Rather an irony when he was cruel to them when they were alive. Denying my dad access to the television, which pretty much was his only source of entertainment. Doing absolutely nothing around the house and infuriating my mother. In fact, I feel that he placed the last straw that broke the camel's back when his action led to an argument with my mother, which led to her making the decision to stop taking her medication. Given that they never got along, one would assumed that he would be pleased that they are gone for good.

Since my parents passed away, I stopped all funds to his household. I'm sure he is feeling the pinch. His two older children simply despised him and he can't understand why. His wife is not going home any time soon. Not sure where my youngest niece stand in all of these but she is stuck for a few more years with him until she is old enough to move out. He recently lost his job and I have no idea what the heck he is doing nowadays and I really don't care.

I guess he is beginning to realize that only his mother would defend him. Although her actions serve to fulfill her agenda, it still made him feel "loved" in some twisted way. He is so crippled by his relationships with my parents that he probably will never understand why others don't defend his irresponsibility. He still has the same disregard and sense of entitlement. He blames others for his misfortune. As bright as he is, he can't get this part of him straight, something that is so obvious to others. While he may not be born a Narcissistic, he certainly acts like a narcissistic wannabe. As he navigates the rest of his life journey, I'm sure I'll see more posting of those type pictures of my parents. Maybe he is not missing them at all but rather a futile attempt to recreate attention for himself. Before my parents passed away, he posted their dying pictures and that certainly got a lot of reactions from his facebook "friends." He probably thrived on the attention. He also openly critized me and my second brother for not doing anything for my parents when he was the one who drained all funds. He made it seems that he was the caretaker. The one that stepped up to the plate while his younger siblings simply abandoned his parents. Many of his friends were sympathetic towards his plight and giving comments to console him in those "tough times." Asking him to be strong and patient. In return, he thanked them for their support. All superficial and truth is, I really don't think he has the capacity to be anything but superficial. This time, his posting didn't get much reactions at all. A handful of "like" and one or two comments asking where the pictures were taken. Maybe because others are starting to catch on to his characters or maybe, they too think it's odd and morbid to post such pictures. One will never really know the purpose of posting those pictures. Personally, it just gives me an image of someone that I am suppose to know. I certainly have nothing to add to his posting.

Earlier today I could have sworn that this entry will be all positive. All about my growth and how I have moved forward because lately I noticed that I no longer have the jab of pain like I did before when people talk about their children. I am starting to be able to join in the celebration. Songs that used to bring much pain is starting to hold other meanings. A much more positive ones. It is nice to be at this state.

However, I also just realized that all it takes is a small trigger to take me back to my rage. Dr. Phil always said, it takes one insult to take a person down and a thousand praise to bring the person back. The trigger today was merely a phone call. An untimely call my husband made to his mother. I just can't stand it. I am in complete state of anger. My intellect cannot comprehend my emotional reaction. My intellect tells me that the reaction is far too extreme for such a small misjudgement. But my emotions tells me the opposite. Who is right?

I just can't stand that woman. I have not recovered from the wounds of her visit. I don't want any reminders of her. I just despise her. I hate her too.
 

It's been a few months since I started this blog. I have definitely benefited from having this forum to be completely honest. It gives me a safe place to analyze my feelings, my past, and to try to make sense of it all. I think I've moved forward with my recovery.

To be a continuous part of the online support group, all members have to be involved in active counseling, which I am not. But truth is, I went for counseling soon after my mother passed, mainly to deal with my lack of sadness to say the least. After walking through with me my thought process as well as my state of mind, she asked why I was even there. Having been in a field related to mental health, I am quite in tune with my own recovery in many level. By the time my mother passed and by the time I went for counseling, I  have actually already worked through a lot of my feelings prior and have already been in a state of acceptance of the reality of a mother that never was. I went for a few more sessions. They were helpful. She asked tough questions and by the end of about 2 months, she didn't feel that I needed anymore sessions and I agreed.

The person who runs the online support group feels rather strongly that all person raised by a Narcissistic Mother suffers from complex post traumatic disorder (C-PTSD), which I don't believe that I do.Then I go back to questioning why I don't have the symptoms. Perhaps it is because I was not the scapegoat growing up and I left home and lived far away by the time I was 19, and that kept her access to me to the minimum. Our distance, saved me. She didn't have the resources to chase me down. Perhaps that's why I was spared from the anxiety, fear, nightmares, depression etc.

While I claim that I no longer have the intense level of rage and hatred towards my own mother anymore, my MIL visit a few weeks ago brought upon a lot of rage within me. Then again, it was a different sort of rage. Having this blog I believe made me aware of my own fear as well. My fear to confront my MIL in the past. This time, I feel ready to set boundaries and look fear in the eye. I do say a lot but I usually don't act upon it. This time, I am challenging myself to act upon my believes. So, only time will tell if this rage will come to past. If I will have the courage to put my foot down and prevent toxic from entering my life. Only time will tell.
 

Advice given to me is while referring to my intention to cut my MIL off is "it is not good to be resentful." I personally don't think I'm resentful. I am certainly angry. Very angry. Enough is enough and I no longer feel obligated to tolerate her bullshit. I don't need her. I can do without her in my life. Putting aside the need to protect my son from her, I really am standing up and advocating for myself. I have always been this agreeable daughter in law. I have always put my true feelings aside to please her. To make it easier for my husband. To make it easier for me too. To go along.

Is it really about resentment? Question is - why is it okay for her to treat me with such disregard all these years? I am not being mean to her. I am merely preventing her from being mean to me. What is so wrong with that? Even with this visit, I went out of the way to make her visit comfortable. I made tentative plans. I put my beloved son on an air mattress so that she can have the bed. I ensure that she was comfortable. Last I remember of our visit, she knowingly got rid of the only guest bed in her trailer weeks before we arrived, simply to clear room for a home office, which was a table pushed against the wall. She had no problem putting us all 3 on a 30+ year old sofa bed. She even mockingly asked about the "iron maiden." So, why don't I have the rights to be down right infuriated? She came into my home and has the audacity to mock me, to disrespect me while I stuck to my integrity and took care of her.

I am done with going with the flow. If it means creating turmoil, I am ready for it. Bring it on. She started it. Not me. It is nothing about resentment. It is about making tough choices and sticking with it.

"Narcissistic mothers are envious of their daughter"

 I thought she was proud of me until..... I don't know. She knew I was bright but she had such little expectation for me. She wanted to marry me off young and her vision for me was to be trapped like her. Live life at the mercy of others. Her vision of me was to stay home and teach piano to supplement the family's income. She never envisioned college for me but college was all I ever dream of, especially after high school. It consumed me for the better part of my young adult life. I spent hours praying and crying to God for the opportunity to go to college. I wish upon that wish on every wishing well. I rub the belly of every saint hoping for that wish to come true. I went on my knees alone by the hotel bed in foreign countries, begging for a chance to go to school. And then, it happened. She still seemed proud. She didn't shed a tear when I left. I remember telling someone then that "I felt safe knowing that my parents always say a prayer for me everyday." Did they? I'm not so sure now.

I think she began to get envious when she saw other children who graduated from college"providing" for their parents. What she failed to see or admit is that, they went to college with their parents' money. They had a head start and I didn't. I went on my own money. I went through sacrifices upon sacrifices to realize my dream. I had one shot to make it and I did it. She seemed to think that once I graduated, that her struggles would be over. That she can have whatever heck she wants. There is no way we can ever measure up to that expectation. We just didn't have enough for them and that was wrong in her eyes.  While she had such little expectation for my well being, she certainly expected a lot of me to provide for her. Even though she might not have been envious of me for my ability, she was envious of the perception that others seem to have it all. Though the envy may not be targeted directly at me, it still affected me. For in her eyes, I have failed.

The online support group certainly gives me a reality check. Many members endured much more severe form of neglect and abuse. It's easy for me to compare and begin to wonder if I was right with my conclusion that my mother has Narcissistic Personality Disorder at all. But having this blog certainly captured many of the raw emotions at the time and she certainly fits the criteria.  Every time when I begin to doubt, I simply have to go back to that time when she rolled her eyes at me after not having seen me in 3 years. That confirmed how hateful she can be.

The support group also gives me insight on the adjustments of some members. Many seems to struggle with their own identity. Their posting carries a tone of hatefulness towards the world. Suspicions that others are out to get them. That also made me think if I have a good grasp of who I am? I would like to think that I do. I would like to think that I have accepted that I am a daughter of a narcissistic and not question why. I would like to think that I am moving on.

Someone mentioned on the support group that she finally felt safe to rage after her Narcissistic Mother passed away. I must admit that my rage also began after my mother passed away. But it wasn't because I finally felt safe but I was just so mad that I didn't tell her off.  When she was alive, I was made to feel that I may never forgive myself if I ever offended her and quite the contrary, I felt angry that I never had the chance to put her in her place. Now I no longer have the same level of rage but I still have hatred towards her. Members of the group also struggle with the fear of guilt if they set boundaries or cut ties with their NM. I don't know if I'll advice them to tell their mothers off but I simply state that I have no guilt on my part. Maybe it's because I was never mean to my mother even when she was mean to me. I will never know how I would have felt if I really did tell her off like it is. But at this point, it really doesn't matter one way or the other. I just take pride of how I handled things. I stayed true to myself and didn't compromise my integrity just to be right. With that, I am at peace with myself.

Just joined an online support group for daughters of narcissistic mothers. I posted a few things online. Gotten a few responses and been directed to a few articles. The group definitely advocates for complete no contact with a narcissistic parent and I have to agree. I think I do feel rather strongly about this. But I have to figure out the nitty-gritty details on how to go about informing her - MIL. I know that once I have informed her, I am well and capable of sticking to my guns. My husband and I discussed the possible reactions. One of which is to exclude us from her will. I guess I should really say goodbye to her decrepit trailer.

I spent the good part of yesterday raging and the more I rage, the more stuff came up to the surface. I was fuming on how she tried to undermine my son by withholding his gift only to toss it to the side instead of giving it to him in person. Looking back, she has been awful towards my son since the very beginning. Knowing that we were trying to get pregnant, she literally harassed us for pictures of our friend's daughter when she was born, but when my son was born, she didn't ask for his pictures until it got awkward for having nothing to show her friends. After he was born, she was too busy ranting and raving about a set of twins from a distant cousin whom she had only met once. That was all she talked about. Yes, she did crochet a blanket for my son, she gave that set of twins far more stuff and attention. The first time she met my son was nothing but a hurried visit for barely an hour or two. She didn't see my son for another year and the second visit, she was annoyed with him for touching her cheap Christmas decoration. She looked at him with such disdain and said that he had bad manners. This visit she had barely a few hours in total with my son and she had concluded that he was acting up. In response to that comment I said "acting up? he doesn't act up." And one night after my son left the table after he had finished his dinner she said "I can't understand how people can have more children" while making implication that my son was difficult when my son was being nothing but an angel at the dinner table. For my son's first & second birthdays, she bought him saving bonds that he has no access to until he is 20. She stiff him for his third birthday. Can't wait to see what he'll get, if anything for his fourth birthday.

Her undermining towards me, while not a blatant as previous times, happened nonetheless. As she left for the airport, she lovingly told me that she left me all the shampoo and conditioner samples for me to use. Come to find out, they were the ones she took from the hotel. She did the same thing to my husband. His gift was 2 packets of stolen coffee sachet from the hotel. In previous years, she has given me her old watch, old jump-suit from the 1960s, and the best of all, a box of old t-shirts. She expects gratitude from me and when I was not appreciative, she said that I was being stubborn. For years I just brushed it off but became more and more insulted as the years went by.

She also basked in the misery of others and when that cannot be accomplished, she becomes jealous. She constantly asked about my father in law and his wife, as well as every members of their family, hoping to latch on something bad. In the past, she would be amused about my brother in law for not remarrying because in her own words "he is not the easiest person to live with." He has since remarry and she can't say that anymore. Not only that, she was "surprise" by the lavish wedding. She also used to imply that our nephew was "just like his father" but she can't say that lately because he is a productive and responsible manager of an auto mechanic store. This visit, she tried to help fix a statue that I broke. She had a smile on her face while she mockingly said she hate seeing the tiger statue without it's tail. Without missing a beat, I told her "it matched the dog's tail." She persisted and wouldn't quit and wanted to spend a good part of the following day buying the "shoe glue" to fix it for us. We finally ignored her and fearing that she would still try to "fix" it, I hid the broken piece.

When she walked out on my husband when he was only five years old, she thought that she could do better. According to my father in law, her departure caused my husband months of nightmare. He woke up middle of the night screaming and crying at the door, asking for his mother. He spent countless hours comforting his son and for that, he had never forgiven her. To this day, my father in law despise her, not for what she did to him but for what she put my husband through. My husband had no recollection of any of it. It must have been suppressed so deep in his psyche cos' it must have hurt so bad.

Knowing what this woman is capable off, it would be extremely irresponsible of me to even let her have another minute with my son. She would tear him apart. She has no qualms about hurting her own son, let alone a grandson she didn't care for. I am so angry at her.

She doesn't ever ask or discuss things. She demands. This visit, she made no effort to find out the most convenient time for us and gave us barely a few weeks notice for her visit. Knowing that we both work, she deliberately planned her visit on week days expecting us all to take time off to serve her whims and fancies. When that didn't happen, she make comments that she wished that she had more time with me and the baby. She ambushed me when I was on the computer saying "I hate to interrupt you but I did call about the condo that I was interested in but it was too expensive." In one breathe, she then gave me her specification of what she wanted and she wanted us to do the work for her. Best of all, she suddenly burst in tears saying that she wanted to move close to us because "she feels like she is missing out on our son." What a bunch of crock!!!

This visit, she took 2 random pictures of my son when he was on the computer out of complete obligation. She didn't take any of mine and I didn't take any of hers. Feelings are mutual. What she hadn't realize is that, she has no control of me. I am tougher than she thinks. I have more control and more capable in making her life a living hell. She hadn't realize that I am a child of a narcissistic and I have played this game. I know the final outcome and I have dealt with it with my own mother. I have far less loyalty towards her. I have youth, I have more resources, I have more education, I have more understanding. She can rage all she wants. She can cry all she wants. It is all a game. A game that will end real soon.

The rage within me surface like an erupting volcano. No mercy and no remorse. I have decided I have to peel the blinder off my eyes. No more excuses to justify any of her actions. I have to come to grip and face the reality that the illusion of a love of a grandmother is non existence with her. I have to cut her off from my son completely. What she attempted to do to my son is completely unforgivable. It's like someone stabbing him and then twisting the knife into his heart just so that he could suffer. Allowing her any more access to my son is like a mother living with an abusive man, and allowing abuse to go on for fear of hurting the abuser. That is how strongly I feel about her behavior. Old or young. Wrong is wrong.

............ part 2
I am still amazed by her level of disregard, although not one bit surprised. I have to say that I am handling it in the most appropriate way when dealing with a narcissistic. I make no extra effort for her and neither do I go out of the way to make her visit a living hell. She continues to treat my son like he never existed. When my 3 year old handed her a block for her to stack, she merely did her obligation and walked out the room. When we were playing outside, she was there and she told the dog that he was her baby and then catching herself,  she quickly included my son to finish the sentence. By being nonchalant and non engaging, it must drive her nuts. She definitely puts in more effort to please me. To the extent of tasting the cookies that I baked. I didn't ask if she liked them and I didn't care. I said very little, giving her just about nothing to work with. Her one effort to engage me fell in the tank. She made a mockery of a person on TV because he wore a turban. Calling him Osama Bin Laden and kept going on and on that she can't stand him. I didn't let the comments bother me and I completely ignored her. She finally called on me to ask what I thought of "that guy." I told her, there is nothing to think about. I simply said that he is Sikh and they wear turbans, and where I come from, that is one of the major religion. Immediately she turned the conversation about my country and then concluded that she asked about it because she just wanted to learn more. She turned the entire conversation around so seamlessly, it is an art form! I have been married to my husband almost 12 years and she is suddenly interested in my country? Oh please!

Last night, my husband was so stressed by her BS and I suggested that today he should take a different approach and not even try to plan for anything. He did just that and what a difference. He went about his day like she never existed. When she woke up, he took her to the mall, dropped her off at the spa and that was that. He didn't pace around trying to make the most of her visit while she turns around and spit fire at his time and effort. Tomorrow, the last day of the visit will be the same. I reminded him to go about his day again like she never existed. If she makes last minute demands, tell her no and for me, my tentative plan to go out for dinner tomorrow for the last day of her visit is completely out the door. I may just get pizza and be done with and then get rid of her.

For the longest time, my husband and I had discussed the possibility of having her move closer to us. Recently we just realized what a bad idea that would be. This visit, she placed hints that she wants to move by us and we simply did not entertain her at all. With me, she finally outright said it. I hear it but it made no difference with me one way or the other. We also have decided that if that is what she wants, we will have no part in the planning and supporting. She is on her own and I won't feel bad for anything at all. In me, I hope and pray that she won't be able to get it together to move here. I have dealt with one my entire life and I'm not dealing with this one.  

I am experiencing a freaking rerun of my life with the visit of my MIL. The game, the undermining, the personal agenda, the manipulation. It is tiring and I've not even spent more than a couple of hours with her. Since she stepped in our door, she has spent a total of 2 seconds acknowledging her grandson and the rest of her free time working on getting to know the dog. That is her priority. Not surprising. Every question is potential opportunity to insert her agenda. For example, I asked her tonight "what would you like to do tomorrow." She answered "whatever you want. Why? are you taking time off." I said no in response. Every effort to guilt me but this time, it didn't work. In the past, I probably would have taken some time off but this time - NO WAY! When she arrived, we had mention a couple of things that we had in mind that we knew she would appreciate but because she needed to have the final say, she dismissed every one of them. It's annoying that after she huffed our ideas and then turned around and said "whatever you want."

What was I thinking when I thought of taking my son to meet my mother? Seeing my MIL ignoring my son gives me another wake up call that my own mother would have treated him with the same disregard. The first day my MIL arrived, she raised all of our expectations by saying that she had a gift for everyone, even the dog. As soon as we got home, I hurried my son to get him ready and seeing that my MIL was unpacking gifts, it was natural for me to assume that the little guy will get his gift. So, that's what I said to him. Not only did she not give him his gift, she gave me my gift and gets annoyed with my 3 year old when he wants to help open "our present." She then said that my son would only get his gift the following day even though he looked at her in anticipation for a gift. How cruel. Not only did my son not get his gift the following day, she just handed it to my husband.  Today, she got annoyed with the baby when the dog's gift on the counter caught his attention. She refused to let him even touch the bone and hurried us to get him his gift so that he wouldn't mess with the dog's toy. She should win the grandmother of the year award.

And then the tears. Oh boy - did they come pouring down. How she's depressed. How she missed her dog. How she missed the dog more than her husband because "he did things to her." - whatever! He should win award for putting up with her. How she didn't want to have another dog because she wanted to spend time with us. Seriously, words without action is like an empty vessel. Time and time again, she does not have our best interest at heart.  If she really wanted to spend time with us, she would have checked to see when is the best time for her visit. She would have at the very least, stayed over the weekend. She is retired, no reason for her to come for only 3 days in the middle of the week while expecting us to use all our vacation time to serve her. absolutely unreasonable.

tick tock, tick tock..... 2 more days before her departure. Lord have mercy!