Hi friends. Do you struggle with birthdays? I do. My 60th is coming up. Having lived with six decades of parental narcissistic abuse, my special day often wasn't. That's just one of the reasons why birthdays are so difficult for a kid with CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder).
My entire childhood, teen years and even adult life were spent living in the shadow of abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, exploitation, scapegoating, parentification and gaslighting by four incredibly self-centered parents. I was not taught to value myself, prioritize my needs or even realize I had them or to express feelings. I was taught to obey, serve and cater to adult authority figures. Instead of learning to care for and protect myself, I was in fact expected to allow dangerous people to do hurtful things.
They always made it very clear that any self-care I might show myself was selfish and serving others (mostly them and their children) was my only duty. And the way they did it was aggressively and also subtly which was much worse. They used me as the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb. They triangulated relationships with each other, pitting their spouses against me. Then they both would then shame, attack, threaten, mock, humiliate, rage at and generally terrify me. Then they'd sit back and watch me dangle miserably on the fry wire. Like a bloody Spandau ballet.
You know that sick feeling you get in your stomach when someone is enraged at you for something but they won't say what and you don't remember doing anything? No? Good! I'm glad you don't have that experience. It's appalling. I can still feel the humiliation, shame and self-loathing welling up like acid reflux. I remember literally groveling, nearly peeing myself, crying and begging them to tell me what I did wrong! I'm sorry!! I'll fix it! Just don't be mad at me. And they just sneered and looked down their noses like I was some kind of repulsive vermin. It was so egregious that I have continual nightmares about it. (CPTSD).
I realize as I write this that it must sound exaggerated that all four of them treated me this way. But if you think about it, or if you know toxic people like this, it doesn't. Really, the very fact that it does sound extreme is what makes me know it isn't. I could not and certainly would not make this up.
I remember watching the movie "Sybil" (way too young but then, caring for Marilisa was never a priority). I was traumatized seeing the horrible things Sybil's mother did to her. I never connected it with myself. I was taught to be grateful for any crumb of good thing and that other kids had it much worse. But now I realize that there are similarities in my story. My parents new spouses were very good at humiliation and intimidation. And my parents gave them carte blanche to do whatever they wanted to me. Why? Because their inflated sense of self got off on it, I guess.
I can't imagine what kind of sick person finds pleasure it a kid's suffering. I can't imagine subjecting my child to such cruel torment. Did I punish my kids? Yes and sometimes wrongly. I was never one of those who could calmly spank my child. That seems like sadism. I should not have spanked them. But my parents spanked me and told me it was right. So in my addled, gaslit brain, I thought I should. Single biggest regret of my life. But at NO TIME would I allow some stranger I plunked down in my kid's life to do that. Or to discipline them. Or hurt them in any way. Especially when they knew these people they'd married were emotionally crippled and dangerous.
And at no time did I ever scapegoat or humiliate them. Or take pride and joy in it like mine did. I was as upset and sad as the children were. I was mad at myself for not being able to find a better way. And that I was too much of a coward to listen to my own good judgement and not spank them.
It makes me fucking disgusted and furious now. This humiliation from them, has gone on, in one way or another, all my life. They just have to find a way to shame and belittle me. God, the many ways they've done it is sickening. And they make sure I know I've been put down. It's creepy how they have gone out of their way to do hurtful things. My mother once threw a pie in my face at her company picnic, just for shits and giggles. No one else was laughing, except her idiot of a husband. And he sure as hell wouldn't have been laughing if she turned the pie on him.
These were not that kind of people and it wasn't that kind of party. I think, and hope, that they were all just disgusted with her and embarrassed for me. I never found out but I hope to God that she was called out in front of others for her foolish behavior. My dad has found ways to take out his sick rage on me, in front of whole crowds of people. His wife always had to find some fault to call me out on. It was spiteful and malicious. Like they just could not stand to see me happy.
So, why are birthdays especially hard? For the same reason Christmas is hard. That was the arena they often chose to humiliate me. Once for trying on my new sweater. They made it abundantly clear that I was not special. I gave beautiful expensive gifts I sometimes couldn't afford. And I was given lame little dollar store gifts while they'd and announce loudly the lavish gifts they give each other. They don't bother to call yet expect me to make a holy day of obligation out of their birthdays.
The birthday gifts I got from other family members have been stolen and sold over the years. Or given to the other kids. They were always competitive with their "real kids" with any good thing involving me. When I got my first new car at 56, my mother's first thought was that I should have asked the dealership for credit for her other daughter's car (?) When my dad passed she didn't extend condolences. She wanted a share of his estate. She divorced him 53 years previously.
They could not be happy for me, ever. And they surely didn't want me to feel special at all. Well, they got their way. I get it. I'm worthless except as a punching bag. And that's where all the sick, nauseating crap has stayed, in my heart and head. I've not said anything. I think part of it now is that I don't want to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that I see their little games. And it really doesn't hurt anymore. I just expect it and try to stay out of their way. Two are gone now so it's easier.
Now, with my own family, things are different. My husband decorates the house for peoples' birthdays. He does nice, thoughtful things. The same with my kids. No one is excluded, favored or left out. This really helps to be part of a loving family and knowing that I made it happen. I was the change I wanted to see. Does it help little Marilisa, teen Marilisa? Frankly, not as much as I'd like. She still lets their gaslighting and scapegoating stick. She feels icky a lot of the time. She still believes she is always the problem and that the best she can hope for is that others will deign to let her fix them.
I wish I had better news. But that's the awful legacy of narcissistic parental abuse, neglect, endangerment, exploitation, abandonment, scapegoating, parentification and gaslighting. Those are the devastating consequences of messing with and damaging a kid's mind and heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment