Sunday, April 28, 2013

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.

Friday, April 19, 2013

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."

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

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?

Thursday, April 11, 2013

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.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

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.

Monday, April 1, 2013

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.