Hello friends. In my ongoing quest to heal from CPTSD, I'm having to face some hard truths about my life, family and parents. What I thought was loving and normal was abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, exclusion, exploitation, scapegoating, Today I'm delving into how I felt growing up under the thumbs of four "Christian" narcissist parents, two biological and their second spouses who were also self-centered. First, why do I specifically say "christian" narcissists? Because they are a special breed who wreak an extra layer havoc in their children's lives. They break God for a kid and remake Him in their image. They twist scripture and use it against their children.
Afraid. But afraid of the wrong things. Fear of letting my parents down. Fear or doing something to displease them, of saying something, anything, to set them off. Fear of displeasing God. Not, oddly enough, fear from the dangerous situations I was placed in and left to face on my own. Not scared, as I should have been, of the harm the scary people they shoved on me, did, only of displeasing them too. I just sucked all that up as how it was meant to be and that this is what God expected of me.
Ashamed. But again, of the wrong things. I was ashamed of my parents immoral, abusive and neglectful behavior as if I was the one who'd done it. Or caused it. Or brought it on myself. Or wasn't supportive enough of them. Or that I actually needed them to do things they weren't doing for me. When they both abandoned me and left me with strangers, when I was 6, I felt shame at being afraid and missing them. When they decided to divorce, I believed because I was led to believe, that it was my fault.
Confused. When they hit me, yelled at me, shunned me, let others hurt me, I believed it was because I deserved it. But I couldn't recall exactly what I'd done to. I was told I was disobedient, showing off, lying, etc. They just got their version into my head first and I never questioned it.
Anxious. From constant stress of their chaotic, bewildering behavior, the hurtful things they said and did to me. The dangerous situations they put me in. The lack of care and basic needs. The constant wariness of random expectations and fear of failing to meet them.
Sad. But for the wrong reasons. I got used to being "Ferberized" (ignored and shamed for any self-care) and I stopped crying for myself at a very young age. Instead I felt a way too mature compassion and empathy for my parents, their new spouses, new kids, etc. Compassion that was exploited in their lavish self-pity parties and weaponized against me (you're too sensitive).
Exhausted. Used up. Burned out. Weakened from all the constant zapping of resources. Brain damaged from the constant cortisol flow from their incessant and disturbing demands.
Inept. Decades of being told I was wrong and screwing up has rendered me unable to make a decision without agonizing self-doubt. I feel guilty about everything. When I got rear-ended by a kid who was texting and driving, I felt guilty. It is always my fault. I can't get my brain to stop believing that.
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