The World Revolves Around Me « Surviving Narcissism

The World Revolves Around Me

Solving a Mystery

This morning I was getting ready to put the finishing touches on a post about boundaries. I’d been convinced that things were going well with Mark because we had put some boundaries in place that protected us from hurts, while allowing for a modicum of a relationship with Mark.

He has been quite pleasant.

In the back of my mind, I’d been wondering if it’s really about boundaries.

Everything I’ve read about narcissists would indicate that a narcissist doesn’t respect boundaries. A narcissist goes through life looking for a source. Boundaries be damned. A narcissist doesn’t respect the needs of others, therefore, it would stand to reason that a narcissist would completely ignore any boundaries that a source might set.

I wanted to be able to explain this turn of events. Continue reading →

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1
Dec 10

Seriously?

A couple days before Thanksgiving, I called Mark to explain that the kids weren’t ready for a visit at his house. The first thing out of his mouth was, “What’s that about?”

I sighed and said, “The phone calls are going well. They just aren’t up for hanging at your place yet. When they went to dinner at the restaurant with you last week, they felt completely left out of the conversation.”

He laughed and said, “That’s ridiculous. The whole conversation was directed at them. It’s all about Jen and Will right now.”

I said I was sorry, but that they asked me to deliver the message that they wouldn’t be going to his house.

Then, out of habit, I said, “Happy Thanksgiving.” I didn’t say it to be snarky, sarcastic or snide. It’s a custom in our culture. That’s what people say this time of year.

He answered with, “Thank you.”

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21
Nov 10

Gaslighting

As I was sitting down to write a new post, I discovered this article by Lisa E. Scott on her site, vainencounters.com:

The “Crazy-Making” Behavior of a Narcissist.

I identified with everything in Lisa’s article. She also mentions the term, gaslight. I had to Google some more. I had heard the term, but never paid attention. I didn’t know it applied to me.

I found this article by Robin Stern, Ph.D.:

What is Gaslighting?

__________

I had today’s post composed in my head before I had discovered the gaslighting stuff. I even had the appropriate pictures selected. I was ready to hit publish. The post was about how I’m tempted to believe that Mark is changing. I was going to write that I’ve been thinking I really managed to get through to him. I was even wondering if Narcissists are capable of seeing who and what they are, and that their behaviors have a detrimental effect on their families.

You’d think I’d know better by now.

Last night he came over to discuss Christmas gift ideas with the kids.

He left and Jenny broke into tears.

I was present for all the conversations. I heard the veiled put downs, and the not-so-subtle dismissals of the dolls Jenny wants, and the ski pants Will wants. I heard his jovial-sounding sarcastic jabs. In his sing-song voice he said, “Well Honey Bear, I thought you wanted a baby doll carriage. You mean you still like Barbies, too? You still like babies and Barbies?”

“So Will, do you think these ski pants would be cool enough for you?”

These are pokes and prods. These are smarmy little attempts at sounding like an interested dad, but really they show how little he knows them, and how little he cares.

This morning’s discovery of gaslighting was another whisper from the Universe. This time she said, “Hon, don’t be fooled. Don’t believe, for one second, that a Narcissist is capable of changing. It will never be about the kids. It will always be about him. Check out this post on gaslighting. It applies to you, Sweetie, and your kids, too.”

At least she’s still whispering. I half expect her to come at me next time with a 2 x 4.

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18
Nov 10

Mom, It’s Like This…

“You know when you’re standing in line at the grocery store and the customer in front of you is talking to the cashier? You know how the cashier sort of smiles, keeps working, and tries to answer the customer’s question, but really they just want to get through with that customer, and get on to the next, and be done working for the day?

You know how the cashier seems like she doesn’t really care about what the customer is talking about?

That’s what it’s like when I’m talking to dad.”

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14
Nov 10

Can It Be?

fingers-crossed They hadn’t seen him in three weeks. On Friday night, they spent over five hours with him. When they walked in the door, at the end of the night, I did a quick scan to check for rapid blinking, slumped shoulders, nervous pacing or shell-shocked expressions.

Nothing.

Will and Jen spoke animatedly about the event they attended. They talked of what they’d had for dinner and the stories shared. They spoke of the folks they saw.

They didn’t mention the baby voice, or the martyr tone. There was nothing about being overly embarrassed – other than the typical ways that all parents embarrass their kids. Nothing about hurt feelings, or insults, or critiques about hair, dress or table manners.

__________ Continue reading →

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5
Nov 10

Canoeing Over Class 5 Rapids

autumn-river1 I never got the hang of water skiing. I tried. I only ever managed to cling to the rope while I was drug around the lake, ending up with extra long arms to prove how hard I tried.

I’ve kayaked once, canoed a few times, and rafted more times than I care to mention.

I’m more the lazy canoe or solo kayak type.

Perhaps I am a control freak, or maybe it’s just that I don’t like being spilled over the edge of some rubber flotation device, forced to drink a gallon of river plankton, while scraping the flesh off my shins, all by noon.

I thought of my relationship to water when I took my kids down by the river yesterday to do a little fresh air home schooling. Continue reading →

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14
Oct 10

Drip, Drip, Drip

This chronically, unresolved stressful stuff with Mark is like a leaky faucet.

When we’re busy, we don’t hear the constant dripping. When the music is turned up loud, I’d swear the plumber had been here today. When we’re having dinner at mom’s, I might comment that I really ought to call a plumber, but 20 minutes into our visit, I’ve forgotten about the faucet.

I’ve asked several friends to recommend a good plumber. I’ve checked the yellow pages.

When lessons are completed, the skateboard rests, and Barbie is tucked away for the day, the dripping is relentless. We can hear it from every corner of the house. When the three of us are tucked safely into our beds, all we can hear is the incessant DRIPPING. We’ve gotten quite comfortable sleeping with pillows pressed to our ears.

When I’m lying in bed listening to the drip, I am convinced I need to call a plumber. I know that if I attacked that faucet with a wrench, we’d have a geyser on our hands. We’d have a flood instead of an annoying drip, drip, drip. But, damn, plumbers cost a lot of money.

The three of us looked for a new house the other night. We were on the internet, looking at new houses with shiny faucets, in new towns, in far away states. Why does moving to a new state frighten me less than calling a plumber and tackling this drip head on? Continue reading →

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8
Oct 10

What Was I Thinking?

After six months of almost daily, intense togetherness, he told me he didn’t like seeing me in skirts and boots.

I thought it was sweet that he felt comfortable enough with me, to feel that it was okay to tell me that he’d like me to change my wardrobe.

After we’d been together eight months, he started saying derogatory things about my family and friends. I’d start to gently defend my peeps, and he’d try to convince me that his view was accurate.

I thought he wanted the best for me. I thought that since he was so amazing, maybe his view of my family and friends was accurate.

He didn’t like to go out to restaurants, go to movies, or spend money on entertainment. He would question my purchase of a book, CD, or magazine. Continue reading →

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16
Sep 10

At Least He Doesn’t Live With Us

empty-chair I play mental tricks on myself. When we wake to nine inches of new snow and a temperature of 15 degrees, I tell myself, “Hey, we have lots of firewood, the furnace is working and the skiing will be great.” When our typically bright blue sky is overcast and gray for the second day in a row, I grouse a little and remind myself that I’m getting lots of chores done. When my kids complain about having to do lessons in the morning instead of riding their bikes or skateboarding, I remind them, “You know, you guys could be sitting in a desk at public school for seven hours.”

I try to find the positive in a less than rosy scenario. It’s a coping mechanism – a self-protective measure to ward off the funk.

Sometimes the scenario requires that I be more creative than usual.

Last night when Jenny was crying at the dinner table because her dad wouldn’t let her bring her favorite fuzzy yellow blanket home to our house from his house, I struggled to find a silver lining on her cloud. I scraped the bottom of the barrel looking for a positive comment, when Will remarked that he, “almost threw up at Dad’s house,” because his dad made him read a four-page letter attesting to his own greatness before he’d let his son open his birthday present. When the kids told me that they had to ask their dad to feed them lunch, I reminded myself that at least they’d arrived home safely.

Even a wise, older-than-her-years eight year old can’t see the logic in not letting a little girl have a cherished blankie. All she could think was that she must not be a very good kid if her dad wouldn’t let her have her blanket. What twelve year old boy needs a lecture on the greatness of his father, before he can open his birthday present? “Mom, he’s trying to show me he’s wonderful by making me read this letter, then he hands me a cool pocket knife, and that’s supposed to make everything fine?” Continue reading →

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31
Aug 10

Apron Strings and Mixed Messages

forest floor Just received an email from a dear friend. Her youngest has gone off to college. She lives on the other side of the country, and yet I can feel how her life has shifted in a plate tectonics sort of way. I’d like to be camped at her house with cocktails, dinners, movies and whatever her favorite distractions may be. I know that the gesture would be appreciated, but that’s the last thing she would want right now.

Our parenting styles are very similar. That is to say, our worlds revolve around our kids, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m a recovering helicopter parent. When Will was small, I obsessed about every bite he took, the length of every nap, and his clothing preferences. I could tell you what kind of mood he was in by the expression on his face. I knew his smell, the rumblings he muttered when he slept, his favorite songs, and his weird sign language that took the place of speech for a scary long time.

We seemed to communicate on a cellular level.

When Jenny came along, I was presented with a new being to cherish and obsess over. I was in tune with her on a totally different, feminine level. I read her moods, felt her needs and anticipated her wants before she had to express them. Continue reading →

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28
Jul 10

Coming Full Circle

barbed

“Dad, if you changed some things so that we would be more comfortable around you, we would want to see you more.” Will, with eyes blinking incessantly, and hands shoved into the pockets of his grass-stained kahkis, summoned the courage to stand up to his dad.

Later, Will told me he felt like he wanted to throw-up when he was talking to Mark.

Jenny was hiding in a corner of the garage. When Mark asked her if he still used the baby voice, she was visibly shaking. She looked down at her feet, clutched her Barbie, and whispered, “Yes.”

Then, Mark announced to the three of us that he has only one voice. He does not have, and never has had, a baby voice. Continue reading →

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28
Jun 10

The Narcissist’s Other Shoe

This is the calm before the storm. Or is it? After Mark’s last email to Will, we have not heard much from him. It has been quite pleasant around here. Although, there is a part of me that wonders what’s coming next.

Will received that lengthy, mom-bashing, blame-laying, ‘your life wouldn’t be what it is today without all the sacrifices I’ve made for you’ email on the day before Father’s Day. Jenny and Will opted not to call him. On the evening of Father’s Day, Mark left a message asking only to talk to Jenny. Jenny begrudgingly returned his call on Monday. It sounded like Mark was actually asking detailed questions about her weekend. He did not ask to talk to Will.

On Tuesday, Mark called, and this time asked to talk to Will. He had some story about his neighbors, to relay to Will. He ended the conversation by saying, “Hey, I’m floating the river tomorrow. Do you want to come?” He didn’t discuss the email, or Will’s lack of response to his email. After Will got off the phone, he shook his head and said, “Dad is doing that thing where he is pretending that everything is fine.”

Will didn’t go floating with Mark.

I answered the phone on Thursday. Mark asked if the kids were home. I held up the phone and said, “You guys, it’s your dad.” They both looked at me, shook their heads, and whispered, “NO! We don’t want to talk to him.” Instead of forcing them to talk to their dad, I said, “Mark, neither one of the kids wants to come to the phone.” He sternly said, “Okay. Goodbye.” Continue reading →

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17
Jun 10

When Fear is the Bus Driver

“Whoa! That was a fun ride!” she says, facetiously. I’m sure it won’t be the last time Fear drives this bus. But, for now, I’m back behind the wheel. I’ve got to look into getting some seat belts installed on this thing. The view from the back seat was interesting, but a little blurry because Fear was driving so fast. That’s probably why I was up the night before last, vomiting. Fear does that to me. It’s a lot like car sickness.

This morning is cold, cloudy and rainy. My mood, however, matches a 75 degree, sunny, windless day.

I’m driving now, and I have my confidence back. The ride is smoother, more leisurely, and I’m sure we’ll stop for snacks and take in a matinee.

Fear took control of the bus when I lost faith in myself and what I know to be true.

I was silencing my own voice, to better hear what others had to say. But I forgot that no one knows my kids as well as I do. No one knows their hurts, their insecurities and their fears like me, because I know how they got them. Continue reading →

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15
Jun 10

Fear on the Frontlines

I am scared. My stomach hurts.

Mark talked to my mom before his counseling session today. He admitted that yesterday’s visit did not go well. He said he thinks he can’t reach Will. I’m stunned that he can see this.

My head was reeling with the sudden change in Mark’s tone.

Is he ready to discard the kids because they aren’t interested in sourcing his narcissism? He has never admitted to this strained relationship with Will before. Why now?

The kids are scheduled for a session with Mark and the counselor tomorrow. They are begging me not to make them go. They are crying. They are pleading.

I’ve told them that we are taking the ‘high road’. We will go to one more session to show Mark, and the world, that we are giving this our best. Continue reading →

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14
Jun 10

From the Sidelines to the Stands

I spent some time on the sidelines. I was too close to the game, and couldn’t see the action well. I moved to the stands. I can see the game better, and it’s a lot more comfy here, too. It’s best that I’m further from the action. They can’t hear me when I fail at keeping my mouth shut. I’m sitting on one of those cushions with the attached back. There’s no one sitting in front of me, so my feet are up. I’ve got popcorn and an icy cold beer.

My kids are suiting up for another run at this ‘game’ at grandma’s. Last night, Jenny slept with me again. She’s dreading today and couldn’t get to sleep because she can’t quit thinking about how her dad just doesn’t see her. This morning, Will said, “I am done with these visits. I just feel beat down.”

I’m picturing my kids suited up for a football game. We’ve only recently gotten into watching football. There hasn’t been a dad around to spend Sundays watching the games, so we don’t really know how the game is played. Will certainly knows more than Jen and I do. But he still doesn’t understand penalties and downs and all that stuff. They are begrudgingly putting on their shoulder pads and helmets. After a few encouraging shouts from the stands, they will drag their butts up the hill to grandma’s house.

I tried the coaching bit for eleven years. Perhaps I’d have done a better job if I’d known more how the game was played. It seems the other team (Mark) keeps changing the rules. Each time my kids were tackled, I’d rush out to the field, help them up and encourage them to get back in the game. It took me quite awhile before I realized that Mark kept changing the rules. I was encouraging the kids to play fair. After each tackle, it became harder and harder to talk them into going back in for what they knew would be another hit. I hoped they’d be able to play better as they got older. At this point, they pretty much hate the game altogether. They don’t even want to be near the stadium, let alone on the field.

Now, with my mom as coach, it’ll be interesting to see how the rest of the game plays. Initially, Jen and Will were cautiously optimistic. This new coach did a better job of getting them psyched before the game. She was a lot more enthusiastic about the potential outcome. She really believed we could win this thing, and her spunk was contagious. The three of us were ready for a new coach because we were sick and tired and bruised from losing every stinkin’ game. Continue reading →

Surviving Narcissism Exploring life after marriage to a narcissist. Learning and thriving by sharing our story. – Jesse Blayne