How grandiose narcissists see themselves and how they become covert, malignant narcs with age

Hello my friends. A quick background if you're new to this blog. For the past year, I've been working to heal my brain from a lifetime of parental narcissistic abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, exploitation, toxic shaming, invalidation, scapegoating and gaslighting about it all. Today I'm looking at how grandiose narcissists see themselves. And also how this self-view makes them into covert and malignant narcissists as they age. 

I lived under the regime of four narcissist parents, three grandiose and one covert narcissist. And at least two with histrionic and antisocial pattern behaviors.  My bio parents were both raging grandiose narcissists who divorced and married other narcs. Life with them was one endless, constantly shifting crazy. I was so damaged in so many ways, by their assaults and gaslighting that I thought it was all my fault. I thought chronic nightmares, CPTSD, suicidally low self esteem and constant fear and shame was normal. 

But recently I've permitted myself to identify the narcissism that drove them. And I realize that I have, as the child of four narcissists, I  have a unique perspective into their thinking which is quite delusional and fantastical. I liken their inner world to a ballet or opera with themselves as prima donna. They always play the lead role never choir or even supporting. 

No wonder my bio parents got divorced. Because there's room for only one diva in the spotlight. And interestingly, diva means goddess in Italian. So there's not even room for God on the stage let alone in the center. He must take a supporting role too. Which leads me to another interesting thing about how God was weaponized by the histrionic narcissists in my life. 

I just listened to a podcast about Christian narcissists and how they kick God out of the driver's seat and exploit Him for their own ends. And wow, was this little girl shouting AMEN. The podcaster identified spot-on how they manipulate you into doing their will by calling it God's, twisting scripture, playing the victim and playing by two sets of rules. And if they can do to adults, think of how they damage their children. I definitely need to blog more about this religious abuse by narcissistic parents. 

As a child, I remember my parents always being "on." As if there was a large adoring audience hanging on their every word. They did a lot of posturing, pontificating and speaking "ex cathedra." No matter how bizarre their behavior, they were convinced of their own infallibility. And like actors they came across very fake. Very pretentious. 

Their behavior designed, I now see, to garner attention. They wanted the big impressive jobs that involved no work on their part. They never participated, they orchestrated. Committee work was far too pedestrian. Even just normal things people all do, like holding down jobs, or paying bills or keeping a roof over their daughter's head or providing for her was beneath them. Let the mere mortal extended family take  care of that. And if they didn't or couldn't, oh well, Marilisa will be fine. Good enough for who it's for. 

However, neither of my parents had any training in ministry or leadership. They were very dismissive of other's achievement and education. But for all that, they firmly believed that they were missionaries and preachers. My father actually went to Los Angeles after the Manson gang murders to convert the Manson girls. He was fully convinced that the authorities would just usher him in to solitary confinement. He had no idea where San Quentin was or how the penal system worked. He just knew that, like Saint Paul, the doors of the prison would magically open for him. They didn't. 

Which might sound very brave and noble. I was gaslit into believing that for years. But when you consider that he had already dragged us across four time zones, on a missionary whim for which he did no preparation, and then left a wife and young daughter in this strange place on another whim, it doesn't sound so great. And when you also consider that my mother was leaving me to my own devices while dreaming up equally delusional fantasies and cheating on my dad, it's even worse. What it looks like, because it was, is child abandonment. 

But narcissists will not see reason on anything. They get very upset when thwarted or questioned. And also very paranoid. Everyone is a hater. No one understands them. Oh how they've suffered. Why can't people just give them their way??? Well, I tried that all my life and it never worked, so yeah... 

Throughout my life, they've done similar outlandish things. Like starting foster care homes but leaving the care to me. As a tween and teen. The menial labor is not for them. They will lie, cheat, scam, con and gaslight others into doing their work for them. And everyone else was supposed to play along. Or, actually, I say everyone else when really it was just me. I was the scapegoat. I was their only child and when they got remarried, their new families were treated very differently. 

Which brings me to the second point which is, how over time and with age, grandiose becomes covert and malignant narcissism. As you might imagine, things often didn't pan out as my parents expected. People didn't line up for their performances. People said no. People disagreed. And those people were of course, hater bullies. But you can only play the victim card so many times before people start to see that there's no fire except the one you started. 

Not everyone. Because my parents present as "good Christians." But it doesn't take long for others to see that they are only in it for what they can get. Not so much my dad. I think his narcissism was more genuinely delusional. But definitely my mom. People are opportunities, not friends. Relationships are very transactional. Preferably with the other person getting stung. 

So their circles have become smaller. And as the show was over, the grand diva has had to go undercover. What's left is self-pity, more open hostility and lack of empathy. Passive-aggressive has given way to just aggressive. And as you age, it becomes exhausting to keep up the facade. All the bitterness and frustration of failed coups, cancelled performances and shattered fantasies, starts coming out. 

She has decided that if she can't be the hottest one in the room, she'll be the most pathetic. Making up stories of abuse, hunger, neglect, poverty (all others' fault). She tells people she is homeless. Wearing nightgowns in public, feigning dementia, disability, hearing loss, memory loss and conditions that defy medical science. Shouting loudly in church, knowingly walking out into traffic expecting others to pull her back, purposely wandering off knowing others will be worried and come looking. 

I think it's ironic that she has chosen these attention-seeking methods. These are all things she subjected me to as a child. I was not given enough to eat. Or a home or bed. I was left to wander alone from age 4, with no one to pull me back out of traffic. Many times, I wandered off and no one came looking. 

The histrionic narcissistic parents' bizarre and contradictory trifecta of abuse

Hello my friends. This blog has evolved from how I lost 100 pounds to an awareness journey into my CPTSD from a lifetime of narcissistic parent abuse, neglect, endangerment, abandonment, exploitation, manipulative invalidation, scapegoating, parentification, toxic shaming and gaslighting about it all. Today I'm looking at the bizarre and contradictory trifecta of abuse that my histrionic narcissistic parents leveled at me. 

But first, if you're new to the term narcissist, let me explain. So the DSM-5 has identified personality disorders called HPD (histrionic personality disorder) and NPD (narcissistic personality disorder) with characteristics of self-absorption, lack of empathy and self-awareness, exhibitionism and self-centered delusional fantasy issues. There are types within those. For the purpose of this blog, I'm not looking to diagnose whether my parents were clinically NPD or HPD (although I'm 99.9% sure they would be if examined). 

I'm looking at the specific behaviors that they exhibited, which fall squarely in the category of narcissism. At first it was grandiose narcissism with some covert and malignant narcissism which really unfolded the older they got and the more selfish behavior they got away with. The histrionic behavior manifested in a pathological need for attention, exhibitionism and melodrama. I say they because both of my parents behaved as histrionic narcissists and then when they divorced, married other really disturbed people. 

So, needless to say, self-centered people don't make very good parents. However, in the delusional fantasy of narcissism, they think they are amazing. Just like they think they are moral Christians with a God-given right to pontificate to others while living very (by their own standards) immoral lives. Mine gaslit me  into believing that abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, scapegoating, parentification, shaming exploitation and invalidation of me was all God's will. Which I'm sure you'll agree is insanely, off the charts damaging to the child. 

The way a narcissistic parent views the child is what drives the abusive behavior. Or should I say, the role the triple role a child plays in this self-absorbed, delusional fantasy world. To a narcissist, a child is not just a burden and the problem, she is also a threat, but also, and this is so weird, a prop. A supporting role in the Mommy and Daddy show. And what do you do with a burden? Shift it onto others or in my case, ignore it.  A threat you neutralize.  My life was one unending role of schlemiel to the narcissists' schlimazel. The court jester to their ubermensch. 

There is a constant clash of expectations to be a support to the parent but also a scapegoat. The child must know and feel guilty that she is in the way. She blocks the narcissist from reaching their true potential. She gets in the way of their "success." Note, this is all in the narcissist's fantasy. My mother told me that she could have been very high ranking person of prestige in the church they were in at the moment ( I forgot which one, there were so many), if it weren't for me. It was completely fabricated as so many other stories I was told, were. 

My father felt no qualms spending the few dollars we had to go to LA to witness to the Manson girls and leave my mother and me, 6, homeless, without family or support in Alaska. My mother was on board with this as it left her free to continue cheating on my dad. Neither one of them paid much attention to what I did. I have no memory of meals and how I got to school. When he told me he was going, I put a brave face on and said goodbye because that's what he expected. He later defended his complete abandonment of me, and got some extra guilt mileage in, by saying that I didn't miss him anyway. 

There is no winning for the child in this slippery slope. You are, at once, a burden which you should feel guilty for. You are a threat to them being always the center of attention and you should feel guilty for that also. And yet you are the prop, too. As a tiny girl, I got used to bolstering fragile parent egos. They said dance, I danced like there was no tomorrow. 

I got used to walking a tightrope of shame and expectation. But not really. Somewhere in my heart was a small voice whispering that this was not good. When I heard it, I just assumed that it meant I wasn't playing my part. So I did better. And better. And they kept adding to the job. So I did more. And they added more. And I failed and was punished. 

This endless tailspin has blown my brain apart. It has broken my heart irreparably. I spent the first 59 years of my life in almost total denial. It wasn't their fault. I deserved it. The weight which you can never explain to anyone because it makes no sense, it smothering. I have been so close to ending it so many times, I've lost track. And then there's more shame because according to my church, despair and suicide are mortal sins. So what the hell do I do???

I "know" not that what they did is and was wrong. But it doesn't help. The damage is done and it is permanent. I'll need to blog more about that. I will say this, though. For all I couldn't see what was being done to me, I can't not see it now. The chinks have turned into gaping holes in my parents' version of reality and the sun  is pouring through, revealing the truth. 

I'm hoping and praying that there may be some hope for this little girl lost. 

Histrionic and Narcissistic parents are utter hypocrites

 Hi friends. I know this blog has become really heavy lately with all the sharing I'm finally doing. However, the abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, exploitation, manipulation, parentification, shaming, scapegoating and gaslighting I endured from four narcissistic parents isn't light reading. It's hard, painful and constantly with me. The fact that I am only now at 60, talking about it, shows how insidious was the abuse and how effective the gaslighting. They had me believing it was all my fault. I brought it on myself. I still believe this to some extent which I why I blog and blog and blog. 

Which brings me to my topic of the day which is the utter hypocrisy of histrionic and narcissistic parents. Mine lived in a fantasy world which they had gaslit me into going along with. Being an empath I fell right into that shit. Mommy doesn't want me around, so I'll go play alone. Daddy is depressed so I have to cheer him up (which was impossible). 

But for all this parentification of me, all the expectation that I care for them, they were still the tyrannical control freaks. They did the bossing around of me (and let their new boyfriends and spouses do likewise) while I did the actual work of parenting them (nurturing, supporting, encouraging, waiting on). So that's one example of  abusive narcissistic hypocrisy. 

Another is that the things they accused me of doing were the very things they did. And when I did it, I now see,  it was age appropriate (crying as a child, teen angst, etc.) They lied, cheated, stole, sulked, pouted, were catty, stormed, raged, humiliated and shamed as grown ass adults. 

I just remembered in writing this post confessing how heavy it was, how my dad used to tell me to "lighten up." And not to be so "sensitive." God, I can still hear his sanctimonious, gaslighting voice. He. Of all people. Telling me a teen, to lighten up?? An adolescent not to be sensitive? You never gave me space to be a kid let alone a teen. Any frustration you may have seen from me was righteous frustration over you constantly expecting me to be surrogate spouse, parent, servant and scapegoat to your new family. It was exhaustion and despair, living in your awful regime, buddy, not disobedience. 

And really, Jack? Too sensitive? You who are notorious for being the biggest snowflake in the room. And you are disrespectful, especially of authority. You treat everyone with arrogant condescension.  You have literally pouted and ranted you're entire adult life, when you only think someone isn't giving you all the adulation you deserve. 

And lighten up?? Really? You routinely told me how you would probably commit suicide at some random time, when I was 5!!!!! You feel no qualms telling everyone whom you know nothing about, how to live their lives. You spout scripture which you do not follow. You bind others up to burdens you do not carry. You are the judgiest of the judgey. Yet no one can even suggest that you reconsider taking your child to Alaska when you had no job or home there. 

And you had the audacity to pooh-pooh other people's hard-won achievements. You actually make fun of people living by their beliefs. When I breastfed my children, you made disparaging comments because I guess you thought I was showing up your lazy wife who "couldn't" breast feed. You actually said "not every woman is a cow." Ass. When I graduated from college magna cum laude, you didn't even know what that meant. Yet you sniffed haughtily and said "college isn't for everyone." Then had the gall to suggest that I was vain. I was fucking proud for once in my life, and you should have been for me. 

And this from you. You who with no training or church support declared yourself a missionary. And everyone was supposed to be so grateful they'd feed and clothe you? You who, without a license or degree felt entitled to walk into any church on a Sunday, waltz up to the pulpit and preach. You were so offended when they politely declined.  You actually believed you were better qualified than a minister with a doctor of divinity. You also eschewed the beliefs of every denomination. Well if you were above organized religion, then why did you want preach in their churches?  Because you were so concerned for their souls? Anghh. Wrong answer. 

Because you like the sound of your own voice. You, like so many others of your right wing party, love to talk. Especially about what everyone else is, according to them, doing wrong. They love to nit pick at specks while ignoring the entire effing lumber yard in their own eye. You didn't care about their salvation. If you did, you'd have actually learned what different churches believed so you could have an accurate dialog. But when I took world religions, you were aghast that I would actually learn about other religions and damn my soul. 

Typical of arrogant people who read about a fifth grade level, to assume they know best what the Bible says. You sort out what you don't like, such as scripture identifying what you are doing wrong and then pick a random, unrelated scripture and twist it to fit your particular agenda.  You claim God's promise of forgiveness for yourself and than come down like fire and brimstone for others. You expect mercy and give damnation. You do not repent. You simply say you told God you were sorry. And continue to do the hurtful things with no remorse or change happily secure in your fire insurance. 

You used to find fault with my singing, saying I was showing off. When you came to see the Shakespeare play I was in, your disdain was palpable. You actually made me feel dirty. Would it have gagged you to say good job? For all your suicide talk, you have no idea how miserable I was that year. How a little kindness would have helped so much. But nope, that memory has to be tainted with dad's disapproval. It wasn't because you were concerned about my studies. You couldn't have cared less. 

And about this liking the sound of your own voice. This showing off? Well, if I did, I learned from the best. My histrionic, exhibitionist parents rarely ever did or said anything that wasn't theatrical. They both loved attention. My mother, also sans training, fancies herself a minster as well. She will do all kinds of weird things to draw attention to herself. Preferably making others  uncomfortable in the process. Like going to a funeral and shouting Amen when she knows the church does NOT do things that way. 

But she has to get eyes on her. And if she can throw some shade at others for not shouting during church, all the better. While the poor family whose church is it, hunch down behind their songbooks and hope no one sees them. But that's not about the church or its doctrine or habits. She does it to us and we're Catholic and her siblings who are Christian Reformed alike. It's not about praising God either. It wasn't with my dad preaching either.  I realize that now. 

It's about the jolt of narcissistic supply that they get when they are the center of attention. And of course, it's delusional too. People aren't awed. They are impressed with the holiness. They are uncomfortable. And often more than a little disapproving of the ostentation. Which comes full circle to the hypocrisy of narcissism. 

My parents got very angry when they thought others were being "too critical." My dad chewed me out for this many times. Now bear in mind, I was the poster child for "good, biddable kid." I didn't dare to be anything but on my toes. I wouldn't even defend myself, let alone dare to question them. So where did he get that I was so critical of him? (same with  my mom). 

And this from Mr. Critical himself. Even his other sons admit that Dad has to be on top all the time. He will attack if you if cross any of his many invisible lines. He has ripped me apart verbally for asking to try on my new Christmas sweater at a party. He has physically beat me for not dancing attendance fast enough. If you tell a joke he didn't like he would insult and scold. Yet he would tell dirty jokes and laugh  uproariously. You'd better too. 

The creed of a narc is "we do things my way. You smile or frown when I say to. You build me up. I let you down. Unless I'm needing a hit. Then, I will find something to nail you on, even if I have to make it up. So that I can hang you out to dry in front of everyone. I get off on that. 

You show off, I share my wonderfulness with others. When you say something it's shouting. When I shout, I'm just saying something. You find fault, I just  give helpful advice. When you don't say something but I just think you're thinking it, I blow up. But call it Biblical correction. When I'm rude, nasty, attacking, snotty, obnoxious, it's just my way. When you're kind, I'll find a way to make it wrong. I'm never wrong and you're never right. It is my right to tell others how to live their lives but not my responsibility to live by my own standards. Rules, often arbitrary ones I just made up, do not apply to me, just you.

. 

 

When a narcissist is thwarted, embarrassed or unmasked, run for cover

Hi friends. I've been working on healing from a lifetime of parental narcissistic abuse. I listen to several helpful online psychologists and one is Dr. Ramani. I just finished her video on what to expect when the narcissist's mask slips. And I recalled the few times I've seen my narcissist parent's cover blown. It ain't pretty. In fact, it's scary as hell. I took the full force of it. But, thanks to all the gaslighting, I always believed it was something I'd done wrong. 

So I got to thinking about some of these experiences and decided to try my newly-learned skill of looking at things more clearly. Of not automatically blaming myself and actually holding the perpetrators accountable. To say what happened. What I learned was very interesting. And scary. But helpful. 

First a quick history. I had the misfortune to be "raised" by four narcissistic people, my two biological parents and their new spouses. Each had their own blend of narcissism/histrionic/antisocial behaviors. As a group, they were a force to be reckoned with. I've been abused in all forms, neglected, abandoned, endangered, exploited, parentified, invalidated, shamed scapegoated and gaslit by all of them separately and collectively throughout my life. 

I never caught on till last year just how fullblown my parents were. And I certainly never associated the terrifying things they did with any wrong on their part. Like I said, the narrative was that it was all me that caused it. But yanno, I'm a parent and now a grandparent. And I can't think of anything my kids could do to unleash the kinds behaviors they hit me with. 

So that's where I started, by looking at what happened with the eyes of a loving adult parent instead of a gaslit, shell-shocked, traumatized, shamed kid. And I can see the disconnects so clearly. Dr. Ramani explains how narcissists hide their behavior by keeping everyone baffled by their BS and hopping to their tune. But if someone should step out of line, or if the narcissist is just tired or feeling fat or threatened, then the mask slips and their real face is exposed. 

And I realized that this is exactly what those shitshows I'd lived through, were. Not me screwing up, but them being or just feeling exposed. A few things you need to know, if you've not witnessed a narc meltdown are thus: 

The explosion comes out of nowhere

The behavior is waaaaay exaggerated. 

The provocation, if you can call it that, is imagined or minimal at best. 

It is always something they did or caused but will blame it on others.

They play the victim and everyone else is at fault. 

They are experiencing the feelings of insecurity and shame that they have routinely made others feel. And they don't like it. 

IT IS TERRIFYING

Let's take the example I've shared in which my mother threw a pie in my face at her company work party. And her other daughter pushed my son's face in another pie. That was so out of the blue. This was a nice family picnic, not a drunken free-for-all frat party. Everyone was shocked. From her bosses, to coworkers to random people at the park. I gasped so deeply that I aspirated some of the pie and started choking. My son was equally shocked and struggled to breathe. No one laughed except her husband who was laughing hysterically. Then she got mad at me for not being able to take a joke. 

This was about 28 years ago. My mother only just brought it up about a year ago. She said she wanted to apologize. I told her I accepted it. But I realized I don't. Waiting 27 years to say something tells me she only did it to make herself feel better. Not me. Or my son. And her curious response when I asked her why she did it, told me all I needed to know about how sorry she wasn't. 

So, back then, I was still gaslit into taking the blame for every shitty thing she did to me. And to others. When she apologized I asked why she did it. And then just fed her the lines by saying "did I do something to make you nervous?" (So nervous that you picked up a pie, as you do, and threw it at me? but yeah I was that self-debasing with her back then). She jumped on that as an excuse and said (voice heavy with self-pity and passive-aggressive blame) that I reminded her of her own "disapproving" mother. (who would have only disapproved of my mother's bizarre behavior in throwing the damn pie in the first place).

But back then, I actually bought that  malarky and felt sorry for her. So she wins. She's able to regain the moral high ground. Mom wouldn't do anything shitty to me without a good reason. And she can soothe her conscience saying she apologized when all she really did was blame. And so I apologized like I always did. 

And not only does she get to feel justified because bad Mary made her feel nervous, poor grandma who'd been gone for years got tagged in the blame. And that's a thing all of its own. Whenever mom does weird things (which is a lot), her family is the reason. She always says she feels out of place at extended family gatherings because "they" make her feel that way. But then she goes out of her way to say and do odd, provocative things. 

Like laughing loudly, talking during a speech or waving her hand in the air and yelling "amen" at her brother's funeral. She fake limps and has to be helped by four people to sit down and is fine when no one is looking. She wears nightgowns in public. She tells exaggerated stories about how she and her family "don't get enough to eat." 

Then her crazy husband who actually has been abusive for most of his life, goes off half-cocked and gets angry with the family who has done nothing wrong.  Stupid shit is done and said. And she preens herself that her brave "hubbie" stuck up for her against her mean family, when all he did was do what he always does and spray venom. 

And she's always the star of the show.  It's always "her" family as if none of us are related too. We're just her miserable, cringing entourage who get dragged through it. Then on the way home from get togethers, we have to listen to how awful they are to her. She triangulated with my also-narcissistic father when they were married. And he went off half-cocked too. Happy to have scapegoats to deflect attention from his poor treatment of us. Such fun. Like damned reality TV show. 

Now I don't know about you but when I'm uncomfortable in a situation, I try to stay small. I'll be friendly and try to interact but I don't do weird things to draw attention to myself. That's the last thing I want. I also don't believe that in most cases it's anyone making me feel uncomfortable. No one is out to get me. We're all just doing our thing. So I started there, with how I do things when I am uncomfortable. 

And looking at this with my newfound clarity, I see exactly what Dr. Ramani was talking about and what happened and why. The pie came first, not the embarrassment. Mom felt nervous and didn't like it. So it had to be someone's fault. My mother has this habit of blaming her weird behavior on others. But I see now, that she always starts it. And she sets  people up. And I see why. Because in her mind, she's the star of the show. A narcissist believes all eyes are always on them. They must either be in the spotlight or the victim.

She will do really odd things, like wearing a nightgown to my granddaughter's baptism. Or talking about her vulva and vagina at a family gathering.  Or farting loudly in public. She then waits for someone to notice or respond and then nails them for "judging her" and making her feel awkward. And then does more weird things. It's complicated but also very obvious. And we've all just gotten used to being uncomfortable so grandma doesn't have to. Some of us even blame ourselves for feeling uncomfortable and not being better at hiding our embarrassment. 

In the pie-throwing incident, she was laying for a fight before the picnic even kicked off.  It was her idea to have a pie eating contest which no one else was on board with. They had a certain tone they wanted for the event and a reputation to protect. This did not include a tacky pie eating contest. They agreed but said no children could participate. I had no intention of letting my kids participate because I thought it was tacky too. I didn't say anything or let on how I felt. We came and were having a great time.  

Well, pie contest time comes and not one adult would participate except my mom and sister. She begged me to and I said no thanks. Her husband wouldn't either. My kids being kids wanted to and so I gave in. And then in front of everyone, she walloped me with a pie and her daughter pushed my young son's face in his. Which is incredibly dangerous,  of course. Children asphyxiate doing stunts like this. I was hurrying to clear his face while he coughed. Everyone took a huge step back and she and her husband laughed their fool heads off. 

I was livid, had to walk my kids through the park covered in food. A kind lady in the bathroom helped me clean them up. I could tell she was thinking WTH? But maybe she just felt sorry for us. I would have, if I'd seen someone in this situation. Did my mom help? Nope. My mom and her husband were busy washing up in the ice buckets. I cringe remembering the pieces of icky pie floating in someone's nice cooler. 

So how is this a narc meltdown? Because again, she does awkward things that make everyone uncomfortable but no one can actually admit it. And my mom thwarted equals punishment for others. Even innocent bystanders. She felt out-classed and was pouting that no one wanted to play her game. Maybe she was planning to nail others too. I think she might have even been hoping to start a food fight. As if this was Animal House, so cringey. I actually remember her sententiously criticizing some kids having a food fight. But then, it wasn't her idea. And then her golden child wanted a food fight for her graduation party and my mother went right along with it. 

So instead of backing down and foregoing it as everyone else wisely suggested, she dug her heels in and decided to get even.  One thing you learn in living with a narcissist is that if you don't give them their way, heads will roll. 

And misery loves company. She wanted us to be as embarrassed as she felt. She says she didn't know what came over her. But my husband feels that she had it planned all along. It wasn't enough to just enjoy a picnic with her grandkids. Someone had to be made to feel icky. And as so often happened, that someone was me. 

Because the fact is, narcissists (and histrionic) are very jealous and competitive. It's not enough that they win. Some else has to lose. They thrive on making people feel uncomfortable. Especially people they feel are threats. Or who are getting the attention they feel they deserve. If you cross your narc or are just in the perimeter if they are crossed, watch out. There's a pie with your name on it. 

Oddly specific examples of parental narcissistic abuse and gaslighting about it

Hey friends. I'm working on healing from CPTSD and toxic shamed caused by parental narcissistic abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, invalidation, exploitation, CSA, parentification, manipulation, toxic shaming and gaslighting about it all. I've blogged a lot about general stuff but today I'm going to list some oddly specific examples of parental narcissistic abuse and gaslighting about it. Each of these experiences left horrific scarring, self-loathing and pain. Each came of of nowhere. And these are some of the weirder ones that stand out. But they are only a small pieces of the larger patterns. I also didn't see that they had done anything wrong at the time they happened. I believed it was somehow my fault. 

1) Little Girl Lost. Left alone to wander in strange cities. We moved a lot. So I was always in some unfamiliar place. From the time I was 4, they let me wander alone in very unsafe situations and places. I used to play down at the docks in Haines AK when I was 6. At four, I picked up a dead rabbit alongside the road because I wanted to pet it and didn't know it was dead. There was no adult to tell me not to. 

2) Daddy's little confidante. I was probably the only 5year old to know the word suicide. My dad used to tell me that he was planning to end it all. I'd cry and he'd callously snub  me. After divorcing my mom, he, at 34, would take me on dates with his 17-year-old gf.  

3)  Mommy's sex therapist. My mother began cheating on my dad when I was 5. She had several affairs. She talked to me in very uncomfortable ways about sex, starting when I was 7 or so. She made out with boyfriends in front of me. She let them tell me dirty jokes and shame me for the size of  my breasts (I was 11). She'd laugh with them. She moved a 15 year-old with a track record of molesting, into her foster care home and he molested me. She turned a blind eye when the neighbor kid sexually harassed me and then started dating his dad. 

4) Everyone's surrogate parent. I was shuffled back and forth between their new families. Every time they had a baby I was removed from my room and made to sleep in the baby's room. And of course, get up at night with them. That began around 10. I was made to share a tiny room with my mom's four special needs foster care children while she slept with her boyfriend in a little "apartment" as she called it, in the basement. There was one room no one slept in that she kept for show, should the caseworker do a spot check. I just recalled that a few weeks ago and figured out why. 

5) Living in a bordello. My mother moved her boyfriend into our home. This was unheard of in conservative 1970s Michigan. Then she kicked me out of my room so my unmarried uncle and his girlfriend could have my room. I want into the room with all the foster care kids. Then one of the girls she fostered would stay the night with her boyfriend. At one point there were 11 people living in a  3 bedroom house. All of which was illegal and ultimately lost her the foster care license. An extreme right-winger, she believes she is a pastor and in the moral majority. Her second husband divorced her for her constant lies. 

6) Merry Christmas. My dad screamed at me in front of the entire family, including his new wife's family at Christmas. I had asked and been given permission to try on my sweater. His other kids were off playing with their new stuff. He called me selfish, ungrateful and spoiled. He shocked everyone.

7) Homeless at 16. My mom's unemployed, lazy and abusive husband kicked me out of "his" house when I was 16. A house that my dad's child support was being used to pay for. They were living on welfare. I had come home an hour late. Actually I was home on time,  just sitting in the yard talking to boyfriend. My mother let him evict me. She gaslit me into believing, till I was 59,. that it was my fault. My husband says he remembers when he first met me that I fully believed I brought it on myself. It never occurred to me that this was illegal. They would later go on to lose their son in a negligent accident. He was left to play alone too. 

8) Beaten for a too small smile. When I lived with my dad, I did pretty much all the housework including caring for their adult foster care folks. I was moved out of my room and put in with the baby. This happened twice in separate homes. My dad and his wife had a suite with AC and a fountain to drown out any noise. I was locked in with the baby. My dad once beat me because I didn't act happy enough. 

9) My mom told me she would pay for my first six months in an apartment in college so I could get out of my dad's house. After six months, she lied and said she'd only lent me the money and that I had to pay it back with interest. This was after cashed in my savings bonds from grandparents to support her unemployed abusive husband. She stole my car and my son's shoes. 

10) Pie in the face.  My mother invited me and my children to her work picnic. She had pestered organizers to have a pie eating contest. They didn't want to but gave in. No one participated except my mom and her daughter. My kids begged to be allowed to so I let them (against my better judgement). As they were about to begin, she threw a pie in my face. Her daughter shoved my little son's face into his pie. He started to choke. I did too. Everyone was horrified except her husband who howled with laughter. She was angry with me for not being able to "take a joke." 

I was blind to parental abuse and neglect, but now I see

Hello my friends. For the last year, I've been working to come to terms with parental abuse, neglect, scapegoating, endangerment, abandonment, manipulation, exploitation, invalidation, toxic shaming, parentification and gaslighting about it all. I haven't talked to many people outside this blog about it but when I have the question comes up how I could have been so blind for so long, to it happening. Good question. I've wondered that myself and it's part of why I'm on this mission. 

I also ask myself so why now? How did I get to be 60 and not see all the abuse? And then that leads me to (wait for it) second-guess and gaslight myself, did it really happen? This of course, is a classic response to reports of abuse as children by older people. Systems and individuals skeptical that I'm making it up because if it was that bad, why didn't I say anything let alone realize it. Some have contradicted me and said "oh you knew. You had to." Or worse, that it's just done for attention. Or made up.

Do people who undermine a person suffering from CPTSD with comments like this, actually hear themselves? Right there, they've just told me all I need to know about them. They don't care.They invalidate. They dismiss. They're probably abusing someone in their life. But go ahead. Hit me with your best shot. Cuz bruh, you couldn't possibly second guess me more than I do myself and have all my life. THAT'S WHY I'M THE MESS I AM!!

But interestingly, this sick victim-blame-shaming from people, only underscores the reality of all the abuse. The fact that I got to my seventh decade completely clueless to abuse from 4 narcissistic adults who called themselves my parents, just shows how good they were at it. And it shows that the gaslighting had been going on since pretty much day one up to the present. 

Because I may be slow to see abuse in my life, but I'm very quick to perceive it in others. And I care. A LOT. Too much sometimes. Being an empath made me so much  more vulnerable to it. And boy howdy did I make the excuses for them. They didn't mean to. It was a mistake. It was my fault. Pretty soon they didn't even have to lie or gaslight or invent reasons to blame and shame me. I was doing it for them. You should see my bizarre disturbing nightly dreams. I'm always kowtowing to someone or many someones who are treating me like crap. I am always in the hot seat. 

I've written about what made me suddenly start to stuff for the abuse it was. And I need to write more. I'm still not entirely sure, but I know those dreams that I have nightly every single night all night long, are instrumental. I've also had to flip the script and look at things from a different perspective. I've had to look at my experiences as I would if it was  happening to someone else. And I've had to pry my hands off my eyes and admit that they were hurting me because they were trying to. You don't "accidentally" do the kind of traumatizing crap my parents did. They had to go out of their way. 

Being under constant attack or threat of attack, made me jumpy, anxious, fearful, ashamed, worried. And constantly second guessing myself. Just like a soldier develops PTSD from constant threat, I developed CPTSD as a trauma response. 

But, some good news, once seen, I'll never unsee it again. And once you open your eyes and look at things clearly, a lot of other experiences that got swept under the rug come to light. Once I started remembering, I realize that things were so so much worse than I'd forced myself to believe. It's not pleasant. But it's better than just constant emotional and physical pain from believing lies, hating myself and distorting memories to suit other people's twisted narrative. 

The most sickening feeling in CPTSD from parental narcissistic abuse

 Hey my friends. Before I get started today, let me just take a moment to say thank you. Deeply. For reading and hearing me. Working to recover (or just be aware of) the CPTSD I suffer from as a result of chronic parental narcissistic abuse is THE hardest thing I've ever done. Burying two babies was the most painful. This is the most complicated.

I always have to start with a quick backstory in case this is the first post you're  reading. In my growing years, I was shunted between four narcissistic adults (two bio and then their partners and spouses) after my parents split. In 1970  Michigan, this was very unusual. There was constant abuse of one form and another, neglect, endangerment, abandonment (like leaving me alone in strange cities), exploitation, parentification, invalidation, scapegoating and gaslighting about it all. 

I only just began to really look at this about a year ago. I knew things were weird and bad but I always believed it was down to unfortunate situations or, more usually, my fault. I believed I brought abuse (sexual, physical, emotional, financial, religious) on myself. I believed because they told me, that I was the problem. But also, weirdly,  I was expected to provide the solution.   That's the parentification and scapegoating. 

I'll try to explain. So, being very immature and self-centered, my bio parents expected me to take care of them. They did not take care of me. I was left to my own devices a lot. In strange places. Now juxtapose that with the care I was expected to provide them. As young as 4, or as far back as I can remember, I've taken the brunt of their issues. My father used to unload his crap, including suicidal feelings, onto me, at 5. My mom dumped all her sexual ick on me. She used to say we were more like sisters and once told my daughter that sometimes she needed me to be her mom. 

If I failed to provide whatever they wanted, there was hell to pay. Then they divorced and brought other demanding, narcissistic people into my life who exploited, manipulated and scapegoated me some more. Then they had kids who I was expected to parent. There were ever-changing, yet constant demands that varied depending on which configuration I was living with at the time. This on-going expectation has never stopped even when I had a family of my own. The level of care demanded was boggling. 

But, being black holes every one, they were never satisfied. In all the care, housework, childcare, giving, being stolen from, being taken advantage of (actually being scammed by them several times) being the token target and scapegoat, I never heard a word of thanks. In fact, what I  heard was all the ways I'd let them down. They gaslit me into thinking I was such a burden to them that they'd have to kick me out of the  house to protect their other children (whom I was sharing a room with and getting up at night with, since they were babies). 

My dad, his wife and my mom's husband would blow normal teen stuff way out of proportion and rage at me. My mom would triangulate him against me then take his part. Mind you,  my mom's husband never worked, slept all the time he wasn't smoking or yelling, and was too lazy even to cut wood for the woodstove. He'd put oil or tires on it. They were living on my dad's child support. My dad was even worse, if that were possible. He made me his new wife's servant, surrogate spouse, surrogate parent and scapegoat. 

He once beat me, at 14, in front of everyone because I wasn't happy enough about being moved out of my room and into a tiny closet of a bedroom with the baby. So his wife could have a suite of a room to herself and not have to be bothered getting up with the baby. I was also expected to work in their adult foster care home like a hired hand. Except that I wasn't paid. My mom did the same thing...had a foster care home with four special needs kids I was expected to share a room with and care for while she and her boyfriend slept in their little "apartment" in the basement. 

So a lot of inappropriate expectations put on me which was confusing enough. But then when I "failed" they came down on me with the wrath of God. The littlest thing or nothing at all, was magnified into a national crisis. It was so damn confusing. I felt responsible for them all, as if the entire fam damily would fall apart without  me. As if there were no adults besides me who wasn't an adult.

And yet there was NO FAMILY for me. They had blown that apart by the divorce. They made it perfectly clear that I had no family. That I was lucky they let me be part of their new ones. It is such a bloody narcissistic fantasy. That you can break up a family, ignore, actually divorce the child in that family. And then start over as if nothing ever happened. There are no do-overs in families. Just a lot of broken pieces left behind which I am many. 

And that contradiction caused some of the most baffling and sickening feelings associated with CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder). And that is anxiety, insecurity, constant second-guessing, from a constant state of chaos. I never trust a single thing I think, believe, feel, want or need. I think I was finally pleasing them only to find out, oh f*** no you effed up again, kid. When I did EXACTLY WHAT THEY EXPECTED. It was a lose-lose situation. 

I cannot begin to express the depths of self-disgust I feel. I say that I know now that they were wrong. It wasn't me. Too much was expected of me and not enough good given to me. But that does not stop the internal gas lighting and self-doubt. It feels like a riptide or flood that I cannot swim out of. It is overwhelming and all encompassing. I feel sick to my stomach just writing about it. 

So the only thing I can do is fake it till I make it. Pretend I believe that I'm not the cause of everyone's problems. I know it sounds so ludicrous even as I say it. No one could be the cause of everyone's problems. That's so ridiculously exaggerated. But that is narcissism. And that's what abuse, neglect, endangerment, scapegoating, abandonment, exploitation and invalidation do to your brain.