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Showing posts with label Recovery from Abuse Narcissism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Recovery from Abuse Narcissism. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

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.

Friday, October 4, 2013

Folding Towels

    As I was reading through the article on escapism that I just posted, it brought some examples to mind of weird, over-the-top things I would get screamed at or punished for.

    It might seem weird that the author refers to it being "wrong" if a target doesn't have the same personal tastes as the controlling person, or that to the controller tasks have to be done "their way" to be "right."  Well yeah, it's weird.  It's weird because it really happens and being on the receiving end of it is completely bizarre.

    Let's talk about bathroom towels.  Folding them, to be more specific.  I have been folding laundry since I was four or five (my first job was to fold the cloth baby diapers).   At some point between the ages of 8 and 12 I started folding towels, as well.  I'm not sure why they weren't included earlier, but I remember watching my mom fold towels and being kind of enchanted with the way she did it.  She did and still does a more elaborate fold than a lot of people, similar to how they do it in hotels.   When the job got turned over to me she showed me how to do it and went upstairs.  I set to work folding them but because it was a complicated process I got it wrong but didn't realize it.  I was excited to show her the good job I was doing when she came downstairs to check on my work and she had a complete screaming fit about the sloppy job I had done.  It was all about how unless it was done this particular way it looked trashy, people who don't fold them this way don't care about how things look and I was belittled for not getting it right.  Never mind that maybe I just needed to do it under her guidance a few times for it to set in to my brain.  Better yet, just don't worry about it and just thank the child for the towels getting folded, however they're doneIt was pretty devastating to me and I practiced and practiced until I got it right and it was second nature to me to fold them that way.

    Imagine my shock when I had roommates and later a husband who, not one of them, folded their towels the "right way."  My husband was actually really proud of the way he folded towels because he had figured out on his own how to fold them the way the hotels do (my mom's way looks pretty but is a different technique). He was folding laundry one day and I was like, "Why did you fold the towels like that?  That's not the right way to fold them."  That was one of our stupid "which way should the toilet paper hang" discussions that newlyweds have, and now I feel really bad about that.  His way looks very pretty, as well (actually I think it looks even nicer than her way), but there is this compulsion with me that they HAVE to be folded the other way because I got in so much trouble for them not being perfectly done in that manner. At one time several years ago I started purposely folding them the way my husband did just to try and break free from the feeling of being controlled, but old habits die hard.  I think I may try that again, telling myself that "This is the pretty way that some nice people like to fold their towels." It's so stupid, really.  It doesn't matter.  How ridiculous is it that a 46-year old woman feels like she needs to purposely fold towels differently from her mother just to make a point?  It's not like she knows what my linen closet looks like, she's not going to be in my house to check it, etc.

As I got older I found towels folded the "wrong way" in the linen closet and she would wave it off, saying that one of my siblings did it and not to sweat it.  And THAT is just one more element to why things seemed so bizarre to me.  Rules that applied to me, whether they made sense or not and with no allowance for variation regardless of my aptitude, the age appropriateness or whatever, did not apply to others.  You know, because it wasn't bizarre enough in the first place just to deal with her version of what was "right"--switch it up so that it's only "right" some of the time and for certain people.

Escapism and Avoidance

    I haven't written about one aspect of the puzzle that is my mother yet, and that is narcissism.  I am planning on writing more in-depth at some point on how I came to that realization, but in the meantime wanted to share this article someone from a support group I belong to shared.  It really struck a chord with me and explains really well what I did to cope with my environment growing up.  It is taken from the Sanctuary For Wellness And Recovery page on Facebook:


    "One of the coping behaviors targets of Controllers often develop is “escapism” and avoidance.  This behavior is a survival mechanism, where the brain is trying to preserve the person’s Self and ability to be autonomous.  Autonomy is essential to a human’s survival, without it we can literally die, because we lose the ability to care for ourselves properly and make survival actions and decisions.

    "One of the core issues with Narcissism is trying to force targets to live through them, to see the world and themselves through the Narcissist’s eyes instead of their own eyes, to live life AROUND the Narcissist’s needs, wants, and emotions instead of their own.  A target of a Narcissist is told that they are “wrong,” “bad,” and “unwanted” when they initiate any action or express anything from THEMSELVES that is not under the umbrella of the Narcissists’ parameters.  Any emotional that isn’t “in line” with the Controller’s emotions or agenda is “wrong.”  Preferences that are different from the Controller are “wrong” (vanilla is better than chocolate, if you prefer chocolate or don’t like vanilla you’re “WRONG” or “WEIRD”).  Clothing, hairstyles, shoes, jewelry are WRONG if they don’t line up with the Controller’s preferences.

    "ANYTHING that a target does, feels, or thinks, or doesn’t do, feel , or think, is “WRONG” if it doesn’t line up with the Controller/Narcissist’s very narrow point of view.  Even the WAY the target does a task that the Controller commanded is “wrong” unless it’s exactly the same as what the Controller has in their head.

    "This projection of control is literally CONSTANT.  The Controller/Narcissist actually believes that ALL of his or her perceptions, opinions, preferences, and beliefs are The Correct Ones, and they feel completely entitled to project all of them onto their target at all times.

    Basically, in their mind, the Controller is the child playing with a set of action figures and dolls, making up everything they say, do, think and feel, and their targets are the dolls who don’t have minds or spirits of their own.  It doesn’t occur to the Controller that the targets are NOT dolls, and that they are just as REAL as he or she is, and that the Controller is NOT entitled to rule over them as if they are.
  
    "In response to this, targets often develop survival skills like escapism and avoidance, in order to preserve their core “self.”  They are giving themselves TIME and SPACE to BE REAL, to be autonomous.  Controllers of course confuse this with typical teenage “rebellion.”  It is related, but teenagers rebel in order to grow up and become autonomous adults; it’s a natural process that all children go through.  They are learning about their own perceptions and how to live in the adult world AS adults.  Rebellion as a SURVIVAL mechanism is different because it’s not part of the natural maturation process; it’s literally to preserve the person’s BEING and sanity.

    "Escapism and avoidance can easily become a habit, and cause problems for the target in making decisions in career and in relationships.  This is another one-two-punch; first the target develops this habit as a way to survive a Controller, and then the target must heal from the habit itself.  IT’s not fair at all, but it’s what happens commonly.  ON the positive side, the coping mechanism DOES help preserve the target’s “self;” without it, the target may have lost their autonomy and their sanity along with it.

    "Escapism and avoidance cause problems because they become the method of coping with discomfort, pain, anxiety, fear and anger.  So instead of balancing the checkbook, we go to the store and buy new jeans.  Instead of talking through an issue with our partner or friend, we turn away from them and go do something else.  Instead of staying at a job we don’t like until we find a better one, we quit.  Instead of saving money, we spend it trying to make ourselves feel better.  Instead of going to Motor Vehicles, we do the laundry.  We say we can’t go to counseling because we have to work.  We say we can’t afford to move so we don’t have to deal with the stress of moving, even though we know we need to move.  We say we can’t afford to quit our job so we don’t have to deal with change and the fear or failure.  We say we can’t afford college because we fear the costs of money an time, or because really we don’t want to deal with the social issues from other humans.

    "So we end up NOT doing things we want or need to do.



    "This is one of the things targets often need to heal from in order to “be themselves” again.  It’s easier with support, of course, but only with healthy supporters with healthy boundaries; otherwise the mechanism will kick in again.  It helps to work on healing our own boundaries first, so we can deal with other human beings and their control issues (most humans have at least a couple of them; when our boundaries are strong enough, we can at least stay in the same room and keep participating with non-Narc. People, even if they have some arrogance or dominance behaviors)."

    Wow, this was great for me to read.  I could relate to so much.

   My form of escapism growing up was reading.  I was a bookworm, always had my nose in a book.  This accomplished a few things--first, reading was considered an acceptable way to occupy my time and people wouldn't bother me as much if I was reading.  Second, I was often on my bed reading, in my room with the door closed--away from the craziness of the rest of the household and less likely to get yelled at (once chores, etc. were done, anyway).  Third, I usually had series of books I was into like Nancy Drew or something like that (yes, to some of you this is going to make me seem really old!  LOL) and I would sort of make myself one of the characters in my mind as I was reading and define myself that way.


    I think that in some ways this was a healthy way for me to deal with not being able to individuate in normal ways---through reading I learned about the world, including some things about interacting with other people through the descriptions I read, etc. (although practical experience through healthy interactions came later; I was one of those kids who was picked on in school all the time when I was little and felt awkward in jr. high and high school).  Better than drug use and other really destructive coping measures--but I found that after I "got out" and got married, etc. reading didn't do the same thing for me that it had in the past.  It took me awhile to figure out why it didn't hold the same "magic" and had a real a-ha moment when I realized it was because my "someday" had come and so I wasn't getting the therapeutic value from it that I had before, if that makes sense.  I think that left a huge hole in a lot of ways because I didn't know what to use to replace it.  As I'm writing this, it occurs to me that maybe the hole it left behind was pain that it had been covering up and I didn't know what to do with it.  No matter what I did I couldn't feel better.  I felt completely lost for a long time, and still struggle with knowing how to occupy my time on a day to day basis.  I often felt compulsions to leave the house each day--I couldn't just be "home."  I often found myself walking around stores, even if I wasn't purchasing anything.  One day when I was trying to figure out why I did that I realized that I felt "normal" when I was at the store.  Running errands is something normal people do, so I am always running errands.

    Anyway.  This gives a lot of food for thought.  I've been learning a lot about my maternal grandfather in the last little while and realize that he carried a lot of the same kind of emotional pain that I do.  He was an alcoholic and I think I'm understanding so much better what was behind it.  His parents had severe marital problems and he was the product of an unwanted pregnancy, and he knew it from the time he was little because his mother would say things like, "I never wanted you anyway," and his older sister was the one carrying him around on her hip and mothering him.  Both mother and sister had very mean personalities.  No matter what he did, he could never be enough. He was a successful businessman in several ventures but lost them all to alcohol.

    Similarly, I was consistently given the message, even as a little girl, that I wasn't enough. I realized several years ago that my very existence never felt acceptable, and the more I've pieced together and learned about my mother the more I've realized that this is really true. I believe strongly that my dad was ready to have a baby much sooner than she was and so she felt pressured into getting pregnant when she did. When she saw how much my dad adored me, she saw me as competition for his affections.  For most of my growing up years I had a desperate need for approval and acceptance.  The arenas I sought after those things in were at church, being the goody-two-shoes who was well behaved and knew all the answers; and through praise or achievements in areas I was talented in, such as music and dance.  I was in ballet for eleven years and in modern dance/jazz for about four years after that, and if I left a class without a compliment from my teacher I was devastated.  If someone outperformed me in some way it took the wind out of my sails, rather than spurring me on to stronger effort and I would sink into depression and hopelessness.  The way it felt to me was that a compliment to someone else was a personal rejection of me.  I couldn't figure out for the longest time why I would do that; now I understand that it's because it was all rooted in approval that was withheld at home, and when I didn't get it in the places I felt like I could get it, it was further validation to me that I was worthless.


    My grandpa was always trying to cope with pain that never went away, and the alcohol cushioned it.  I'm really a lot more like him in a lot of ways than I realized, but instead of alcohol I use food or other coping behaviors.