The Grief of Acceptance

     Today a person in my primary support group reached out in an effort to identify why she was feeling so much sadness and low worth.  She has been on no contact status with her abusive mother for four weeks now, and this is the third time doing it over the past several years.  Resuming contact in the past was in hopes that things would be better, and she is realizing that that hope has been in vain.  The first time she cut off contact, she grieved the loss of a mother.  The second time, she claimed her identity as a person. This time she felt a deep sadness whose origins she was having difficulty identifying.

     There are so many layers of grief that come with this territory of saying "No more!" and letting go.  As I was reading comments from other members reassuring her that what she is going through is normal and part of the process, it occurred to me that another aspect to the grief that she is feeling this time might have something to do with finality--an acceptance on her part that her mother is not going to change.  I think there is a sense of hope that we as survivors instilled in ourselves from a young age that things COULD change.  For me that hope stemmed from a basic belief that all people are essentially good, and thinking that if I could only get it right then I could have the carrot my mother was always dangling in front of me but never really allowing me to have (her acceptance).  It was also part of how I survived--it was too frightening to consider as a child that my mom was that dangerous and that that's just how it was.  Feeling that it was my fault and that I could therefore fix what was wrong felt much safer, although it was terrible for my self-esteem.  Realizing that what was  essentially wrong had nothing to do with me but was her stuff has been freeing, but has also brought grief as I've worked on accepting that it's not fixable.  It is a harsh reality to accept that you really never had a mother in the sense of what a mother is supposed to be.  It is hard to accept that you were really never loved because this person simply does not love--her overriding emotion is a need to feel superior to everyone else, her own children included.  Because of this we never received the true love and nurturing that a child is supposed to be able to receive.  Grieving that loss is huge, and acceptance that it will never be what you always held out hope for brings another layer of grief.

     I'm learning to sit with grief and sadness when it comes up.  I'm trying to do that without distracting myself through food, shopping or keeping myself ridiculously busy.  I'm trying to learn to allow myself to just "be."  Doing this isn't easy, but when I have done it I have learned a lot about myself and gained better understanding and insight to myself as a person.  I've been able to make sense of why I feel the way I do about certain things or why I have certain behaviors or responses.  And those things in turn have helped me to grow as a person.  I have so much less fear and anxiety than I had even six months ago and it feels really good.

Circus? No Thanks

     I have a LOT that I need to catch up on, but today I'm going to do a couple of posts concerning conversations that happened today.

     One thing I am really happy about in regards to my healing is how much stronger my boundaries have become.  As a child of a narcissist, I was taught that I had no rights and that anything I wanted or needed were secondary to what my mother's wants and desires were.  This extended past her and to everyone around me, through the ways that she defined my role in the family.  Often I was given the message that I was selfish if I didn't give younger siblings what they wanted, even to the extent that my privacy was invaded. Some of my siblings, and one in particular was a "master mind" at this, caught on to the game so well that they learned to manipulate situations in such a way that they got away with things and managed to get me in trouble in the process.  If I would try to defend myself I was chastised because they were younger than me, and how dare I pick on the younger kids like that?

     As I matured I tended to gravitate to friends who were either "friends," meaning that they were controlling and took advantage of me, or to kids who were shunned by my peers.  I felt sorry for the latter and wanted to be kind, but I think that in a way I also felt more comfortable.  I was in a little bit better of a place than they were and they weren't as difficult to interact with as the majority of the kids.  With the kids who tended to take advantage of me, I can see where having a parent who treated me the way she did conditioned me to gravitate to those kinds of kids and yearn to be accepted by them.  When you have a parent who dangles acceptance like carrot in front of you constantly, that becomes normal to you and so it becomes a familiar thing that you are drawn to outside of the home.  For the longest time I couldn't figure out why as I've gone through life I've always managed to find myself in the position of either being used for what someone could get out of me or often feeling like a "third wheel" and being overlooked.  As I have learned more about narcissism and narcissistic abuse, it has helped me to understand that dynamic.

The more I have pulled back from interacting with my mother, the stronger my boundaries have become. I've spent quite a bit more time alone over this past year, outside of my own husband and children, as I've become unwilling to put myself in situations where I am used.  It's been very interesting to see the people who have naturally dropped out of my life because I am no longer the girl who says yes to everything and is so desperate for approval.  In some instances it has been hurtful, but it has also been gratifying to me to realize that I recognize characteristics in people now whom I would be better off staying away from.  I've realized that the relationships that have dropped out of my life really weren't worth having in the first place.  I would rather have a small, genuine group of people around me than a large number of people who are insincere and only have their own interests at heart.

     Every now and then I almost get pulled into thinking that a small interaction with my mother is safe, and every time I do I end up sorry.  I'm no longer having the violent physiological reactions to the things that do occur, and I'm so thankful for that.  But it always puts me in some kind of compromising situation, and I'm just better off not going there.

     Today I saw a quote that really grabbed my attention.  I think the context it was given in was intended to be different than how it struck me, but WOW!!!  It was powerful in the way I saw it:

"Entertain a clown, become part of the circus."

     
I'm going to copy this and put it on my refrigerator and/or make some kind of art project out of it to hang somewhere (hello, tole painting--we really need to become acquainted again).  It really says it all when you put it in the context of what the consequences are of engaging a narcissist.  No matter how good and pure your intentions and no matter how well-behaved you are, you will become part of their circus.  And I'm much happier not being a part of the show.

Evidences of Healing

     I probably should have updated the blog here a lot sooner than now, especially with what a downer my last post was.  I didn't realize until a couple of months ago that I had gone so long without posting and have meant to update, but time has gotten away from me.

     I have seen a lot of progress since I last posted, and to start things off I want to share a couple of things that I shared in a support group back in April.  The things I posted about had actually happened a couple of months earlier, so happened right after that last blog post.  After that it has seemed that my healing process has sped up in so many ways, and there are good things happening.

     First I started noticing that I was handling certain situations better than I would have in the past, or that things that once freaked me out weren't doing that anymore.  Then I noticed that where boundaries are concerned, I wasn't having to overthink how to respond in certain situations; I was just automatically responding in healthier ways.  This told me that the things I've been learning and working on had become more integrated.  It has been a cool feeling after the fact to be able to say, "Wow, I handled that really well," and as time has gone on there has been less of a physiological response.  At first, "handling it well" was eliciting kind of a panic letdown response.

     Right around this time I had two things happen in rapid succession that blew my own mind. LOL  The first happened when I went back to an exercise club after avoiding going for quite awhile because my mother goes there and 1)  I didn't want to run into her and 2) I didn't want to deal with question like, "How is your mom doing?"  I finally decided I needed to quit shooting myself in the foot and went back during a time I knew she wouldn't  be there.  As I was signing in the owner said it was good to see me, and then asked how my daughter is (in regards to the health challenges she has been dealing with).  Then she said, "I've been keeping up that way because your mom keeps me updated."  Before I knew what was happening I said, "Huh, that is so weird because she doesn't even speak to me."  She got a little bit of a startled look on her face then leaned forward and with a lowered voice said, "Well, sometimes your mom has kind of an attitude."  I said, "Actually, she has an attitude all. the. time."  And you know what?  I had an awesome workout and I now have a much more comfortable relationship with the owner than I ever have before.  I realized after that incident that I while I do need to use wise judgment as far as how much to say, when and to whom, I don't have to live in fear of every single person on the planet judging me if I don't keep up my mother's fake little facade.  The owner has been so much more relaxed and congenial with me; I don't know if it's just that my manner has changed and I came across as a lot more "Leave me alone," than I realized before, or if it has more to do with her own personal experiences in dealing with my mother.  I suspect a combination of both.  Anyway, it felt awesome to just call it like it was and not go along with the statement about my mom keeping her updated, because anything she would be saying would be her making stuff up or telling what she might have heard through someone besides me.  I am so done with that crap.

     About two days later I was in the Walmart parking lot getting ready to leave.  This lady parked next to me and slammed into the passenger side of my van when she opened her door and was about to go on her way without even checking for damage.  I was kind of stunned but then rolled my window down and said, "Excuse me, did you just hit my van/'  She stopped and said, "Yes ma'am, just a little bit."  I said, "Is there a dent in it?" and she then checked and said no.  Then I asked her if she would have checked it if I hadn't said anything and she said, "Yes, ma'am."  I then said, "Okay then," and rolled my window back up.  And then I was like, "What did I just do???"  Once upon a time I would have just let her go on her way and then been upset for the rest of the night.  Totally did not see that coming!!!

     Besides these events being huge in and of themselves, what really stunned me was how automatic and spontaneous my responses were.  They were instant and the thought process was completely in the moment.  That told me right away that I was making a lot of progress internally.

     I have more to write about, but that seemed like a good way to get back on here and say howdy. :)