What I learned when my mom threw a pie in my face

 Hello friends. I've been unlearning a lot, lately, about what I thought I knew about my parents and family. What I thought was normal and loving was actually them abusing, neglecting, abandoning, endangering, exploiting, parentifying, scapegoating, shaming, invalidating, triangulating and gaslighting me. In a lifetime of bizarre experiences with my parents, one experience in particular really brought this home to me. Here's what I learned when my mother threw a pie in my face. 

I've discussed the pie in the face before, as one of many disturbing things she's done over the years. Here's what happened. She invited myself and my children to her company picnic. As part of the activities, she wanted them to have a pie eating contest. No one wanted to, it not being in keeping with the tone of the event, but she prevailed. Day of, still, no one wanted to participate, including me. It was just she and her other daughter. She begged me to let my kids do it and I finally gave in. 

As they were about to start, she grabbed a pie and nailed me, laughing hysterically. My sister shoved my kids faces in their pies. No one else was laughing except my stepfather who loves jokes at others' expense. Everyone was shocked. I was mortified, furious and worried for my kids. The event ended abruptly and we had to ride home with them because they'd taken us. She was pouting that her co-workers were mad, annoyed with me and facetiously "apologizing" (you know, the sarcastic "well, I'm sooo sorry" which really means sorry you can't take a joke) but also sniggering at us. Stepfather (who was routinely ugly with my mom) angrily yelled at me for upsetting her (?!?!) I ended up apologizing. 

25 years later she brought it up to "apologize." And this is where I really learned some things about her. What I saw was that it was still all always about her. She didn't apologize to make me feel better, but herself. She didn't ask and we didn't talk about, how it made me feel. Or the kids. Instead, we talked about why she did it. And you may be wondering how she could defend such behavior. Well, my mother can and make you feel guilty in the process. I actually fed her some of the excuses. 

She was nervous, embarrassed and felt she didn't fit in. Yada, yada (poor me, poor me) She felt I was criticizing her for wanting to have a pie eating contest. Even though no one else was on board or participated either. Including her husband who didn't want to make a fool of himself. Facts I didn't mention because one must never bring up reality or make mother feel bad. One must just know that one has let her down, again, and feel ashamed. 

I'm pretty sure she was only apologizing now because she and husband were getting divorced and he was nailing her with her past misdeeds. Which of course, he had a big hand in, but I digress. If she was sorry, she'd have said so at the time. It doesn't take you 25 years to realize something like that is wrong. 

So what did I learn from this? I know, I've written about this before but I just realized some new things and one is that it isn't about her. It's about me. It has always been about me and that my version is the real one. It wasn't a joke because we weren't all laughing. It was a malicious, cruel prank. She wanted me to feel humiliated. The pier was basically her screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'm jealous of you! I feel insecure around you!! I hate you!! I want to cut you down to size!! You ruined my life and I've been going out of my way to ruin yours. The pie is just the exclamation point on that!"

And I also realized that it doesn't matter why she did it. It may have then, but I couldn't care less, now. Because again, it isn't about her. It's finally about me. I've been spending my life helping, fixing, covering for, explaining away, defending, rationalizing, parenting, her. I've been a bit actor in her melodrama of a life, a supporting character to her leading lady. Albeit with a very large, critical role. And president of her fan club. And I'm sick of it all. I quit. Exit, stage left. 

What I needed as a child, were nurturing, guidance, uplifting and care, from parents but had to give it to them instead. What I got was shame and hurt, exploitation and abuse. I see that she has been throwing pies in my face all my life. Shame on her. It shouldn't have happened that way, but it did. I know that and now it's time to get out of her sights. I couldn't then, but I can now. 

I gave better and I deserve better. I gave and deserve love and affection and support and respect. If it's only a one-way street, I'm driving another route. I don't owe anyone anything, least of all not to be used as a punching bag. I have, not only the right, but responsibility to protect myself. 

I don't want my life to be just surviving the horrible abuse they put me through. I want to thrive. I don't want to be the motley fool in their court. I want to be me, to write my own story. Yes, the abuse is part of but not all of it. Maybe in a way, I'm glad for the pie in the face. It was a wakeup call I needed. If people use and abuse you, no matter and maybe because of, who they are, it's time to move on. If they won't move I need to. And I won't let the door hit me in the butt on the way out. 

Cringy ways narcissist parents humiliate their kids and why they do it

 Hi friends. I've been walking back through my growing years and finding that a lot of what I thought was true about me and my "parents" (they loved me, were always right), was not. Also  how what I thought was family (divorced parents, their new spouses, new kids) wasn't. Basically, everything I believed, turned out to be a lie, a false reality planted in my  head by decades of gaslighting from four abusive, neglectful, invalidating, endangering, manipulative adults who called themselves parents. 

Today I want to look at one form of narcissistic abuse, specifically humiliation. This is like shaming and invalidation only more flamboyant and obvious. I'll share cringy ways abusive narcissist parents humiliate their kids. 

1) What is narcissistic humiliation? So you might argue that all parents, at some point embarrass their kids. And I would agree, that yes, accidentally we do. But the difference with narcissistic parent humiliation is that it is purposeful, strategic and targeted. It's not accidental and they go out of their way to do it. A classic example with me was my mother throwing a pie in my face at her company picnic where my children and I were guests. 

2) Who do narc parents humiliate? Another thing about humiliation is that it's reserved, generally for one child, the scapegoat. Which in my case, being the "red-headed stepchild" the unwanted kid getting in the way of my parents shiny new lives, was me. In order to get the point across that I was an unwelcome nuisance (as if I needed proof), they would openly and publicly shame and mock me. 

3) Examples of parental narcissistic abuse. When I was 6, my never around dad told me to quit being stupid when I was playing dress up with some clothes in a missionary barrel. Over the years, he'd call me ridiculous, a show off, too sensitive, an embarrassment to the (his new) family.  When I was 13, my father beat me in front of everyone. He screamed at me at a family Christmas party. His wife loudly announced that I had a run in my nylons at a public gathering. My mom would shout into the fitting room asking if I needed a larger size pants. My mother's boyfriend made fun of my small breasts and my mother jeered with him. She not only threw a pie in my face, she and her daughter pushed my kids faces in pies. These are the folks who shame their kid on social media and laugh if they wet their pants instead of getting them clean underwear. 

4) How is this narcissistic humiliation? Well, anytime anyone goes out of their way to embarrass someone, it's for selfish ends. Healthy caring people feel sorry when someone is embarrassed. We go out of our way to protect and comfort. Especially with children whose awkward behavior is just part of growing up and not their fault. Narcissists humiliate. They point out things that most people would overlook or ignore (like the run in my nylons). They orchestrate situations designed to humiliate their target. With them, humiliation is an action verb. 

5) Why do narcissistic parents humiliate their kids? Because they get off on shaming them. Normal people like seeing their kids feel good. Narc parents love it when they feel awful. They like attention for good things they've done but they LOVE attention for bad things, that comes at someone's expense. You find yourself saying "who does that??" a lot with a narcissist. And yes, it's pathetic and sick. And really cringy. 

6) How do other people not see how weird it is? Oh they do. The narcissist makes sure they do. Making people uncomfortable is the payoff. Seeing others shocked, horrified faces just makes the narc's heart sing. It wouldn't be fun if no one was watching. But it's all based on delusion. 

7) How in the hell would anyone get off on hurting others? You don't and I don't. But ever heard of sadists? Narc parents who humiliate their kids are sadistic. And what drives it? A need to feel powerful. And cool. 

8) How do narcissists see themselves? Larger than life, above it all, omnipotent, omniscient. In a word, god. Anything they do is just grand, no matter how stupid or awkward. Their image of themselves is distorted like a carnival funhouse mirror. And soo deluded. Because where the real God is love, they are cold, empty, bottomless pits. Emotional zombies who feed off others. 

9) How do others see the narcissist? This is where the delusion comes in. Other people do not see them as cool and superhuman, but rather ridiculous, ludicrous caricatures. Cartoonish, clownish and fake.  

10) What is the core of parental humiliation? Beneath the power trip and weird high they get from humiliating their kids, is shame. But being self-centered and self-deluded, they believe other's are causing it. They identify the child as that cause. So they direct all energy at hiding their shame and trying to make the kid look bad. Which only splashes back on them, lather rinse repeat.  

11) Why does no one say anything and allow the child to be humiliated by these circus freaks?? That's the 64,000 question to which, if I had the answer, I could have saved myself a lifetime of pain. Maybe they're too polite. Or lazy. Or afraid of getting involved. Or under the narc's spell. Narcissists are awful when crossed. Narcissist parents are terrifying nightmares. Woe to anyone who doesn't join their cult and worship at their altar. And maybe it's hard to know how to help the child and silence seems the safest policy. I don't know. 

What I do know is the being at their mercy was devastating. Because no one stepped in or called out my narcissist parents' abuse, I figured it was okay. I deserved it or was making it up. Which is a contradiction but one I had to accept to cope with the pain. Someone should have said something. 

Beware of gaslighting ways flying monkeys defend narcissistic parental abuse

Hello friends. Recently I explored how the narcissist trains her flying monkeys to counterattack her victim. Today I'm looking at gaslighting ways flying monkeys defend narcissistic parental abuse. Beware of these shaming-blaming things they say. These insidiously toxic statements can really trip you up if you're trying to heal from abuse, as I am. 

"He IS your father (she IS your mother.)" This usually given as reason for meeting some expectation you're supposedly failing to meet. Yep, they're my parents, brilliant observation, Sherlock. However, as such, I should expect care, nurturing, support from them, which I have not received. They see me as their child (emphasis on the possessive pronoun) only for what they can get FROM me, not what they are supposed to GIVE to me. 

"She IS your stepmom, he IS your stepfather, you should (insert expectation). This is the previous crazy on steroids. No, they are my parents' new spouses. They are nothing to me and certainly not parents. I have two of those, thanks anyway, and they're more than enough work to please. I owe the spouses nothing, not even respect until they earn it. Which they didn't. I was here first. They owe me respect. 

A further note on this one. In my case, the flying monkeys didn't even believe in divorce and remarriage. Yet they gaslit me into thinking I somehow owed these new people, who did not respect or care for me, respect and care. Also my parents were the flying monkeys of their new spouses. And also their shiny new "golden kids" as they aged. Which is ludicrous because none of them knew nor cared anything about me. So where do they come off with all this expectation? Answer: a bunch of convoluted nonsense which I will proceed to debunk.  

"Your mom/dad really love you. They just don't know how to show it." REALLY? and you know this how? Because they're doing a damn good job of proving they don't. And they know perfectly well how to love their other kids and to scapegoat, exploit and withhold from me. Be off with your toxic positivity. 

"You won't let your mother/father love you. You drive them away" Oh for fuck's sake, yes, five year old me wouldn't let them play with or take care of me. I wanted to be abandoned, endangered and neglected. I didn't need to drive them away. They drove as fast and as far from responsibility as they could. Can you be anymore bullshitty??

"It's your fault if they don't love/care for you." Wow. You really can be more bullshitty. I have and continue to give them all the love and care they deprived me of. They expected me to parent them, their new spouses and kids. And I did. I did their work. I supported them. Where were you when I needed help with all that, hmmm?

"Your mother/father needs, wants you to, thinks, feels you should (insert thing)" The bad things you caused and the good things, you're failing to provide. So the funny thing is that these flying monkeys don't really even know your mom/dad. And they don't care. They just want to mind your business and make you feel bad. Or they are triangulating you against the person. My seethingly angry dad and stepmom hated each other, yet blamed me for somehow causing that? 

"You should do this or that for them." So much screwy here that I have to list it. 

1) Any sentence that includes "you should" is suspect and should be approached with care. Or ignored. 

2) Usually, the thing you should do is something that you are doing already and shouldn't be doing in the first place. Like taking care of, fixing, enabling, etc. 

3) It's often something the flying monkeys should be doing (parents being spouses to their new spouses, not expecting me to). 

4) Mostly, it's things they don't need done for them and should be doing for themselves. 

5) In my case, it was things that were not done for me but should have been. Like caring for, helping, feeding, clothing, housing, providing for, etc. 

6) If the flying monkeys think the person needs something, why aren't they doing it? This requires a paragraph of it's own. 

Isn't it funny how the flying monkeys don't lift a finger to help but feel no qualms guilting you? And often with things they actually are responsible for. That was all my "parents' M.O. When my lazy, manipulative stepmother wanted a free live-in maid and nanny, my dad happily offered up me. And Bible-gaslight that it was my duty. When my stepmother needed a scapegoat for her, her sons' and my dad's bad behavior guess who she picked? When my mom needed a target for her and her husband's narcissistic abuse, it was me again. I was the cause of and responsible to fix all their problems. 

But when I wasn't around anymore, how the table turned. When it was them experiencing the things each other did, they whined to me about how awful the others were. They expected me to feel sorry for them because they had to actually deal with the monsters they had created and forced on me. And they didn't deal with a fraction of the shit I had. 

I wish I'd seen then how crazy it all was. I wish I'd asked, how's that working out for you? Cuz you were fine when it was me, who you didn't care for, caring for the new people you forced on me. Now you all want me to care for you again? Pigs might fly. 

To anyone, including the flying monkeys in my head, who thinks I should enable, care for, help, fix, please people who didn't care for me, I have this to say. I don't. It's not safe or healthy for me. It's killing me. I have enough to do trying save myself from the conflagration of  pain, suffering, guilt, shame and damage without pouring gas on the fire. 

But don't let me stop you. If you think they need all this care, feel free to step up. Put yourself where your mouth is. See how well it goes. When you realize how demanding and ungrateful they are, you'll change your tune. And good luck when they walk on and exploit you. Don't say I didn't warn you. But no fear of you doing that. Flying monkeys are better at issuing instructions than following them. 

How gullible people become flying monkeys of the narcissistic parent

 Hi friends. I've written a lot about my CPTSD from narcissistic parental abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, exploitation, manipulation,  triangulation, scapegoating, shaming, parentification and gaslighting from four narcissistic parents. This helps me heal and hopefully, helps you too. Today I'm writing to warn us both against about weird gaslighting ways people defend narcissistic parental abuse. 

First a word about these defenders of narcissistic abuse. They have been called flying monkeys (as in The Wizard of Oz). Which is a good term, in that  they flap around shooing off the victim and protecting the abuser. Because the abuser has them conned into thinking that she is the victim being persecuted by the person she is actually hurting. 

But the operative word there was conned. The flying monkeys' "sympathy" is engaged and leveraged by the abuser with self-pitying lies and self-serving distortions. Which are spun to the gullible monkeys who then take up her cause. They aren't very bright and ignore the evidence in front of them that she is the problem. She even exploits and hurts them with her narcissistic abuse. And then, like the Wicked Witch, laughs about they are. 

How does this occur? It's complicated but yet also simple. There's a weird phenomena in which the version of the story that is believed is the one who tells hers first. And the narcissist makes damn sure it's hers and punishes anyone who dares to question it. When she hurts someone, she goes on the offensive. All eyes are diverted to the victim who must now defend bullshit lies said about her. 

They flap around squawking "how dare you?" when the victim didn't actually do anything. "She's your mother?" "He's your father?" (completely overlooking the fact that the victim is also their child, who they are supposed to care for). "How can you be so cruel?" (if calling out what someone did is cruel, then what they did must have been pretty bad). Everyone is now busy comforting the poor narcissist who turns on the pitiful and pathetic full blast.  They don't see her gloating smugness behind it.  Ding, ding, ding she wins getting to persecute then get pity for it, thereby persecuting her victim even more. 

And her poor victim usually ends up feeling the guilt she should be feeling and apologizing to the very person who drew first blood. Which further convinces the weak-minded narcissist that she really was the victim and that God and everyone is approving her abusive ways. She can literally do no wrong. I shake my head when I  think how often this has happened to me. 

In the next post on this subject, we'll look disturbing things flying monkeys say to defend narcissistic abuse and keep you enslaved to your abusers. 

How narcissist parents' weird jealousy and competitiveness destroy kids

Hi friends. I've been remembering a lot about the terrible shame, fear and pain caused by narcissistic parental abuse. Two very weird things about narcissistic parents is that they are jealous of and in competition with their scapegoat child. They do not rejoice when the child succeeds unless they can somehow wedge themselves into the limelight. They bask in reflected glory that they didn't earn. But baring that, and always with malignant narcissistic parents, they enjoy seeing their children humiliated and uncomfortable. They go out of their way to punish the child for innocently outshining them. 

This sounds pretty harsh but if you've lived with narcissistic parents, you're nodding your head. Unless you, like me, struggle to admit that it happened and how insidious it is. (Rose, you're right that word is absolutely spot on). So let me enlighten us on how narcissistic parents compete with instead of care for us and how by gaslighting us, they keep us from realizing it. 

My mother was a nice looking woman. Not as nice-looking as she fancied herself, however. She wore fashion boots, mini-mini skirts and a bikini in the early 70s when this was considered inappropriate in our social environment. None of my friends' moms dressed this way. She went out of her way to make sure she was the hottest thing in the room, and attracted the most attention.  Even if it meant being very provocative and even seductive. She once dressed as a hooker (her words) for a church costume party and had me help with her costume. I'm pretty sure I was the only 8-year-old who knew was a hooker was. 

I was your average kid. A little awkward, pudgy and squinty-eyed. (That was because no one bothered to have my eyes checked until they were so bad that I could hardly see. She had several pairs of glasses.) when we were in Alaska I wore rag bag clothing. But as I got older and started to care, she did buy clothing but only what she dictated. Instead of finding clothes to flatter my body shape, she got me childish clothing that accentuated my chubbiness and made me look silly. I felt foolish. 

She would send me into the fitting room with clothes that were too small. I would cry because they made me look and feel fat. Then she'd shout across the store to ask if they were too tight and did I need the 13 chubby instead. I started very young purposely wearing mismatched clothing and refusing to wear the weird stuff. She would slap my face for being sassy. So I wore the weird stuff. My dad was nowhere to be found and didn't care. 

I also had beautiful chestnut colored long hair when I was 7. Grandma and grandpa and mom had a photo shoot done of me and the photographer loved arranging my hair. Immediately after that she had it cut all off and done in a pixie which made me look even more ridiculous. The stylist warned against it and my grandparents were heartbroken. She said that I wanted it cut for swimming. I believed that all these years though I have no memory of wanting it cut, only of hating it when it was. 

Also, she said the doctor said I was way overweight. At 9 or 10, I was put on a 1,000 calorie a day diet. No health source approves this for weight loss and I have to think didn't then either. I was hungry all the time. I cried a lot. She would weight me daily and get annoyed if I failed to lose weight. I think now that on some level she liked seeing me ashamed of my weight. I did end up losing weight after finally getting my tonsils out. But only because I didn't eat for three weeks and no one noticed. I'd had chronic tonsilitis and been on penicillin for over a year.     

At the time, I just felt like a fat, idiotic loser. I started biting myself then rubbing out the teeth marks so no one would see. I only began to feel better after I lost weight and my hair grew out. And she began getting me cuter clothing. But then the neighbor kid started molesting me and nothing was done about that. I went into a grunge phase. And she met her new boyfriend and all the money went to him. I was back to the missionary barrel for clothing. I've been at war with my looks ever since. 

So how does this imply jealousy and competitiveness? Parents do sometimes struggle to help their children find clothing that make them comfortable. The difference is subtle, but it's there. Two of my friends' parents were older and while they might not have always agreed with their kids' fashion choices, it wasn't such a big deal. Also they wore the same type of clothing that other kids wore.  My grandparents also bought me clothing that was in style so age couldn't be blamed. 

It seemed that my mother cared when other people were there to see and possibly criticize her choices. Also, making choices for me when I should have been allowed to make my own, showed a too much control, especially when the clothing she chose was neither age appropriate nor in style. Which was a big contrast to her ultra fashionable, some would say risqué, dress.  There seemed to be an agenda to keep me looking and feeling as silly as possible so that she could look even "hotter" by comparison. 

Poeming from little me

 Hello my friends. Thank you for being with me in this blog. I know it's been very raw and can't have made for very pleasant reading. So if you want more grapefruit spoons to the heart with a little different spin, I have a blog of poetry written through the eyes of my inner child. Poems from little me as it were. The address is The Writer's Garden. 

More bizarre and hypocritical things my narcissistic parents said

 Hi guys. This blog is about truth-telling about my narcissistic parents, finally after six decades of believing their lies. I've shared before about some of their weirder and more disturbing behavior toward me. Today is another list of bizarre and hypocritical things two of my "parents" said that I didn't realize till recently just how odd, hurtful and paradoxical they were. 

1) "Not interested till I need something."  My dad paid no attention to me throughout my life. He abandoned me for like two years. He said he didn't "do" little kids and he'd care when I got to my teens. By this he meant complete disinterest, failing parental responsibilities to me and lack of involvement in anything about me: health, safety, school, feeding, clothing. My uncle knew more about me than he did. Yet, dad was greatly interested when it came to getting things from me. By the time I was 12, he'd divorced my mom, gotten married again and had a new family. He cared then because he wanted free housekeeping, babysitting and a servant for his new wife. 

2) "You look ridiculous." My dad knew nothing about my life, needs, wants, dreams, fears. He left me to wander at 5. He ran off leaving me in a strange place, 2k miles from my home. Was I fed, clothed, given medical treatment, kept safe? No and he couldn't care less. Until, out of the blue, he noticed that I was wearing my pants rolled to the knee and striped socks (in my Bay City Roller phase). He suddenly got very angry, said I looked ridiculous and to go change. Into what, I'm not sure because he'd never bought me clothing or even saw to it I had underwear. Everything I had was Christmas gifts from grandparents. Even the "ridiculous" BCR garb, LOL. 

3) "You have anger problems." Throughout my life, my dad and his new wife exploited, shamed, neglected, scapegoated, bullied, lashed out at, invalidated, dismissed and harshly punished me. They made me parent them and their kids, do pretty much all the housework. They made me work, unpaid for long hours in their adult foster care home. They didn't allow me friends, a bedroom, or any after school activities. I had to co-sleep with their baby. All before the age of 15. They neglected my basic needs. Whenever my stepmother was upset I was told it was my fault. She was constantly upset. I never once talked back. My dad raged regularly. Yet I was the one with "anger problems." 

4) "You're such a mess you need counseling." Which yes, after all their abuse I did. But not for help with my "disobedience" toward God as they put it. I needed help coping with these four delusional, self-centered, abusive, neglectful adults in my life. And the shitshow they called family life. And their constant chaotic crazy. However, instead of a licensed counselor I was sent, at 13, to their minister. Probably because they knew a qualified therapist would see who the real problems were. They thought he'd further gaslight me about me supposedly failing God and them. Interestingly he took my part and had a talk with them. Alas he didn't follow up or report anything and that only made things worse. Narcissists don't like to be questioned. And if they aren't exposed their abuse gets worse. 

5) "You don't need help coping. You're just showing off." So as I said, I did need help, but not for anger. I was too accepting of their abuse. When I needed it was at 6, during the Alaska nightmare when I was homeless, left with strangers, wandering alone, abandoned by parents who were running off leaving me, hooking up with other people and blowing our family apart. But no, I was on my own then. Mom shaming me into shutting up and Dad on a "mission trip" nowhere to be found. 

6) "You're lucky we had a good divorce." Yes, I was told that. And it never occurred to me to believe otherwise. Until I told my husband who shouted "WTF???" What then is a bad divorce? One where you neglect your first child ✅✅and favor your others? ✅✅. Let your new hookup abuse your kid?  ✅✅ Take advantage of your kid? Exploit her. Make her feel it's her fault? ✅✅✅✅✅✅✅The endangerment, abandonment, parentification and neglect were already well underway. There's really no way they haven't mistreated me. 

7) "We can't afford...(insert whatever thing Marilisa needed)." I went without a bed, medical care, bike, clothing, food, sanitary needs, to name a few. I've slept on unheated porches and when I wasn't co-sleeping with their children. I was kicked out at 16. I paid for my own college and car. Yet they could afford exotic pets, breed animals, cigarettes, motorcycles, new cars, new homes. I went hungry so my stepmother could have expensive diet food. Their other kids never went without. They stole from me. So they weren't poor. They just didn't care to spend anything on me. 

8) "You owe us." For all the care they said they gave me but didn't. I believed it and kept funneling money to them. Until I quit. I'll just let the insanity of that read as written. 

9) "You disrupted vital government work." The same stepmother who couldn't stand me and exploited me at every turn, moved herself into my overcrowded home after leaving my dad. I fell for her sob story about how my dad wanted her to do a suicide pact. Mind you, no one gave a shit that he'd been traumatizing me with his suicide threats since I was 5. But anyway, what she was really after was access to our family computer. She stayed up all night, sexting with a pedophile calling it a "sting operation." In the AM, my kids, her grandkids, asked me about the string of sext messages in the chat window she left open. When confronted, she blamed me for interrupting her work and putting kids at risk. I cannot make this shit up. 

10) "You have to help me because you've screwed up so much."   Because I was made to be servant and parent to my dad's kids, I let them do any weird upsetting thing to me they wanted. Their second son once called me in the middle of a cast party to ask me to help him out of domestic violence charges. My narcissistic parents said his wife was abusing him (who never held a job) by asking him to come out of his "prayer closet" help with the family. Even though he's the one who shoved her. Brother then said "mom and dad told me to call you because you and your husband fight." Though they knew nothing about it, shamed me for it, had provoked it then offered no help. And now he was exploiting it.  

11) "I'm an addict but how dare you say so?" I made the mistake of telling bro when he called, not to put too much store in what parents said because they were both addicted to drugs. Dad had taken morphine 3x daily for 10 years. His wife was a morbidly obese smoker, addicted to Vicodin. who went to prison for writing fake scrips. I should never have shared that with him because he's just as narcissistic as them and would use that against me. But you know, family fixer fixes. I told him to say nothing to them which I stupidly thought he'd respect because he was the one who asked me for help.  Which of course, he didn't' but ran to tell them I said they were addicts. Which of course enraged the addicts. 

11)"You drove a wedge between me and my estranged son." I also told my brother about his mom using our family computer to lure pedophiles. He then went and confronted her. He was estranged from her because he was embarrassed that she was so obese that she was required custodial care by age 50, paid for by welfare. She did nothing but watch TV, play games on her computer and eat on the taxpayers' dime. She confronted me at work with a venomous email accusing me of "causing problems between her and her son." My dad, of course, stood by and said nothing. He later pretended he didn't know but said it was okay because it was "covered by the blood." His weird way of claiming blanket forgiveness without actual remorse. 

This is only a snapshot of some things that one side of weird family did. 

Funny and heretofore unthinkable ways I'm detaching from narcissist parents

Hello my friends. Now that the US has just elected 47th president, one of the biggest narcissists in history, I'll be doubling down on posts about dealing with and healing from narcissistic abuse. It's no wonder my four "parents" dad, his wife, mom and her second ex-husband (the one she's pleased to call my stepfather) are rabid MAGA right-wingers. They have a lot in common with Donald Trump, including felony counts, lying, gaslighting, hypocrisy, lack of empathy, disrespect for peoples' basic rights and neglect of their basic needs. 

All my life, until I finally went low contact with my mom and her husband, they've shamed, scapegoated, exploited, stolen from, lied to, neglected, endangered, manipulated, invalidated, triangulated, abused and gaslit me about it all. My dad and his wife died before I became aware of just how much they'd done these things too. What got me finally understanding what happened were constant CPTSD nightmares and Reddit. I began to see how what had happened to me was wrong. This led me to seeking out Youtube sources on coming to terms with narcissistic parental abuse. 

And the more I see, the less I can unsee. The more I know the clearer it becomes. It isn't easy. In fact, it's devilishly painful and difficult. Now I have to accept what I couldn't accept as a child which was that  these adults who were supposed care for me, didn't. And two of them, his new wife and her new husband, weren't even supposed to have the power over me which my parents gave them. And that I was abandoned and endangered by the very people who were supposed to keep me safe, neglected and abused by those God entrusted to care for me, exploited, triangulated, scapegoated by "family members", intimidated by those who those who said they loved me, made to parent parents and gaslit about it all. 

So where do I go from here? What do I do with this knowledge? How do I manage the all-encompassing fear, shame and trauma? Well, step one for me has been to keep the remaining abusers at arm's length and grow long arms. And then to blog out my pain. And start talking about it too. It's not enough to share with cyberspace. I need safe flesh and blood people to hear. 

And next is a step with heretofore has been unthinkable to me. I am making an effort to detach from the "family in my head." To use my own terms, instead of their gaslighting ones. To believe my truth instead of their lies. To say what happened and why, who did it, and what it felt like, instead of keeping quiet and small. To quit letting them tell me I'm the one being disloyal, disrespectful, shameful, sinful, and a bad family member. And start putting them in those hot seats. To stop sitting still and start rocking the damn boat. 

All of those things would not only have been forbidden to me but also dangerous. But they aren't now. They have no power over me. True their voices live rent free in my head. But nevertheless, I'm an adult who can do as she pleases. If I'm wrong, God will show me. Not Jack or Nancy or Bill or Ginny. Or any of their kids. To quote Fanny Brice, if someone takes a spill, it's me and not you. 

So when they start criticizing, fault-finding, harassing, when anyone whose agenda is to shame and squelch me starts, I'm going to say "so?" and "I don't care." And this is ground-breaking. A brave, new world for me. Because I have never once in my life, said those things to anyone. It felt callous. Because I was shamed into accepting any shame put on me. All kinds of religious babble about how God expects me to care about, worry about, fix, be the example for, the servant to, everyone, was told to me. 

But funny thing, if this was all God's will, then why didn't my parents do any of these things? They waited on no one but themselves. They broke a lot and fixed nothing. That was others' job. They bluntly told me they didn't care. They showed me that my feelings either didn't exist ("too sensitive") or were my fault or were weaponized against me. My dad and mom literally pitted their new spouses against me. To every reasonable need I had, they basically said "so?"

It's very freeing to realize this. To put things in correct perspective. Not only is it okay not to care about what others with a track record of harm, think, it's much safer. I laugh because my husband has always done this. If people attack, try to humiliate, mock, shame, he just scoffs and says "I don't care." I used to get annoyed or maybe just worried when he did this. How could he not care? Didn't he see, as I so clearly did, that these hecklers were morally superior? Didn't he see that it was his job to be whatever anyone wanted him to be? No he did not. 

And he was right. I now see that and I admire his chutzpah. His God-given confidence. Yes, I said God-given. God, we are told, has not given us a spirit of timidity but of courage in the face of harm, sin and danger. I didn't get that memo because my manipulative parents taught me wrong. They preferred me ashamed and biddable. The Bible says "instruct a child in the way he should go and he won't depart." Well, the reverse is also true. Teach a kid wrong and it'll stick in her head. She'll spend a lifetime trying to undo the damage. To depart from it. 

Well, here's to departing from that wrong teaching. To finding courage not to care what people with evil intentions think or do. 

 

How childhood trauma damages the brain and what this means for adult CPTSD sufferers

Hi friends. I'm finally sharing about childhood trauma from narcissistic parental abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, toxic shaming, family scapegoating, exploitation, manipulation, triangulation, invalidation, parentification, enmeshment, intimidation, weaponizing of God and gaslighting about it all. Four narcissistic parents, two biological and their two new partners, wreaked havoc in my life, leaving me with permanent brain damage and CPTSD. 

I know, you might be saying, wait, brain damage? I could see sadness and fear, but actual physical brain damage? Isn't that a bit extreme? Yes and yes. Continual emotional abuse and trauma damages the brain in extremely disturbing ways. Here's how that happens and what it means for adult CPTSD sufferers. 

Stress is hard on adults. It's  harder on kids who've developed no coping skills. And that's just stress over things beyond anyone's control: natural disasters, job loss, death of loved ones. Unnecessary or manufactured stress, such as that caused by unreasonable, immature, narcissistic parents, is particularly difficult. And complicated. Unnecessary chronic stress is unbearable. 

Children who live with self-centered parents endure constant unnecessary stress. My childhood was one of constant and needless upheaval. Selfish parents were constantly disrupting my life, running off  on wild goose chases, making irrational choices, leaving me in strange places with strange people, putting me in risky and dangerous situations, leaving me unattended, neglecting my basic care, moving every few months. They divorced when I was 6 after moving us to Alaska on a whim to "mission to the Indians."  That was the easy part. 

And then all hell broke loose.  They divorced and immediately began hooking up one weirdo after another. My mom actually began that when I was around 6 and still married to my dad. He was off on his own on some narc fantasy or other. If you think that didn't cause anxiety, being in a completely foreign place with mommy on daddy and daddy too busy preaching to give a damn about me. And us moving every week or so, not knowing where my next meal was coming from. 

Then my mom moved her then-boyfriend into our house when I was 10. And they both married people who were just as self-centered and dysfunctional as they were. People I was made to not only serve but also parent. I've been slave, surrogate spouse, surrogate parent, scapegoat for them all. I can't remember a time when I wasn't being abused, neglected, abandoned, endangered, triangulated, exploited, bullied, intimidated, invalidated, shamed and gaslit by them, each with his or her own secret recipe. 

I was anxious, afraid, confused and uncertain. Or full. Or comfortable. Or not in pain or discomfort. Food, medical care, love, warmth were in short supply. Stability, non-existent. I was always afraid of displeasing four people all demanding odd, dangerous, inappropriate things from me. And when their kids came along, make that nine people. I was shoved back and forth. Houses came and went. Never my home though. I was always there on sufferance and earning my keep, always expected. Harsh, unprovoked punishment came out of nowhere. Shaming was constant. 

I was never at ease. Never not stressed. And if stress releases cortisol and adrenaline, I was a human fountain of them. I was always poised for problems, someone's wrath or mocking or humiliating or disapproval or passive-aggressive venom. I don't know what it is not to live in crisis mode. And all that stress releasing all that cortisol had corroded my brain. It's shot my nerves to hell. It destroyed my ability to differentiate joy from pain, my problem from theirs,  truth from lie, reality from gaslighting, me from them. I don't know where others stop and I begin. With them, there was no end and I as a distinct person did not exist. So I don't know that I do. I give too much. I give in too much. I tolerate WAAAAAYY too much. And I expect little. 

And you know what angers me so much? It was all so damn unnecessary!! None of their other kids lived with such chaos. And I'm glad they didn't. But why me? What good did any of it do any of them? My dad and his wife died as they lived,  selfish, delusional, bitter and blaming. The two that are left divorced and hate each other. They just sit in their house, resenting and demanding and lying. None of them loved each other. But they loved me less. No good came from it and my life was destroyed. 

And now it's on me to try to bring some good from the shambles they made of my brain. I've got to constantly rethink and relearn. I've got to accept they didn't care about me, and only used me to get what they wanted. I've got to find a way to stop it hurting, to stop gaslighting myself. Dammit, I'm tired and sick of it. 

At least one good thing, I'm pretty good at faking happiness. Most people who know me, don't realize what shame and pain I carry. I don't want to bring them down. But it doesn't make it go away or get any better. 

Why I'm so miserable, now that I'm finally admitting the abuse I suffered

Hey friends. I've been doing a lot of truth telling about years of abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, exploitation, toxic shaming, invalidation, intimidation, parentification and gaslighting from four narcissistic parents. I've been down a long dark, complicated tunnel that I don't yet see the end of. 

I don't remember a time I wasn't ashamed, humiliated, terrified and utterly confused. It's with me day and especially night, in my dreams. You would think writing about it would help. So far, it just seems to make things worse. Here's why I think that is. 

For almost six decades of my life, I believed my narcissistic parents' version of events. I made excuses for their horrible behavior. I gaslit myself that it was my fault. Or that I was imagining things. Or that others experienced the same thing and I was just too sensitive. Because they told me this was the case.

It was so bad that I blanked out months of my life. I squashed terrible memories into a closet of my mind and bolted the door. These experiences oozed toxins all over. They burned and poisoned me. But as long as I could contain it to my mind, as long as I could fake that everything was okay, no one ever knew. Unless they looked closer at me. The obvious signs were there for anyone willing to admit it.

The people I called my family industriously worked to keep any understanding of what was actually happened to me quiet. Even from me. And boy, did that narcissist prayer come in handy. They could have written it themselves. It didn't  happen. If it did, it wasn't my fault. If it was, I didn't mean it. If I did, you deserved it. They had an excuse for everything. And I believed it because mommy and daddy and stepmommy and step daddy said so. 

And they lied, and lied and lied. They lied to cover other lies. They twisted and manipulated and  triangulated and mirrored and backstabbed and invalidated and dismissed and scoffed at and shamed and mocked and pouted. They even weaponized, trauma dumped, scapegoated and lashed out.  They launched smear campaigns, gaslighted, projected and talked a steady stream of weird word salad nonsense. 

They tagged God in on this. They would weaponize scripture against me. They bound me up to burdens they didn't help carry. They made themselves God to me. They lied about what God supposedly expected of me. They preached but did not practice. Their egregious adult sins, which they did not acknowledge, confess or repent from, were "covered by the blood." My mistakes of childhood were blown up into cataclysmic sins for which there was no forgiveness. 

Crazy on top of crazy. I was exhausted just trying to keep up. But they seemed to have boundless energy from the narcissistic supply I gave them. I see know why it's called supply. Narcissists get high and trip on the suffering they cause their victims. My mother and father would both babble and rant incoherently like coke heads. 

If I was feeding them supply, they were giddy with it. Literally, high on their power trips. They were all over the place with wacky, delusions. My mother rationalized away her sleeping with married men as doing good deeds because their wives were so mean. While preaching morality to others. I believed her. If I did that I'd feel insane guilt. She is a rabid MAGA supporter yet she paid for and took a girl to have an abortion because "she was going to anyway." I still can't shake the feeling that she was somehow right and it was somehow okay. For her. 

If questioned, they would spray all kinds of venom, passive aggressively and just plain aggressively. So I never questioned. Until now. And once the blinders are removed, you can't unsee what was happening. And it is incredibly depressing and exhausting. I realize that the people who were supposed to love me, to be my family, were just a bunch of arrogant, nasty control freaks to me. 

Writing about it seems to make it worse. But that's because instead of just being generally miserable, not knowing why and blaming myself, I now see what happened clearly. I see how I was exploited. I see how I was abandoned and endangered and neglected and abused and parentified and gaslit. The betrayal is almost unbearable for an adult mind. When I was a kid it would have been impossible to except. So I coped the best I could.