Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get.
Unknown
Posts Tagged: child of narcissist
22
Oct 09
Hello, I’m Over Here
I got a letter from a friend today. He prefers to write in longhand. Perhaps his point was so well-taken because he took the time to write the words out on a piece of paper with a pen. He scribbled through a few of the thoughts he wanted to change, and left edits in the margins. It was enjoyable to read. There’s something so personal and real about a handwritten letter.
He is a father-figure for two girls that mean the world to him. He writes of their personalities, their hobbies, and how much they have enriched his life. It’s clear that he is humbled by the fact that they choose to spend so much time with him. He feels that the best he can offer is to be there for them, to be accepting of them and to encourage them. It would seem that offering to be there, to be accepting and to be encouraging would not be too much to ask of a parent. It simply requires that you take a back seat, and not insist on putting yourself first all the time.
I’ve always wanted my kids to feel completely accepted for who they are. I encourage them in their uniqueness. I encourage them in their academics and extra-curricular stuff, but it’s most important that they know I value who they are, not just how they perform. I never want them to feel that they are an inconvenience. That’s the fall-out of being the child of a narcissist. Children of narcissists end up feeling that if they aren’t performing, or serving, then they are an inconvenience.
Another friend of mine, who also has a poor relationship with his father, once told me that he didn’t realize how lousy this relationship was until he had kids of his own. He would check in on his girls while they were sleeping, and he felt that his heart was ready to burst with the love he felt for them. He vividly remembers the first time he thought, “If my dad had ever felt that for me, there’s no way he would have treated me the way he did.” It’s when you have kids of your own that it really dawns on you the capacity you have for love. That’s also when you realize that you came up short in that department. It becomes painfully clear that the narcissistic parent was not capable of being there for you, couldn’t possibly accept you for who you are, and could only encourage you so far as that encouragement might benefit them.
20
Oct 09
It’s Broken, Already
Women are fixers. It’s part of our very nature to see if we can fix whatever may be broken. Accommodating women are serious fixers. It’s not that men aren’t capable or interested in fixing, too, but sometimes I think women have a tendency to try to fix when it can’t be fixed.
A couple nights ago I was reading a review of a new book about children of narcissists. The reviews were mostly positive, with a couple exceptions. One reviewer cited that the author gave lots of examples and case studies of the damage caused by growing up with a narcissistic parent. But this reviewer was quite perturbed that the author did not suggest any fixes. Maybe the reviewer still has a lot to learn about narcissism. Maybe the reviewer is overly-optimistic. Just about everything I’ve read says that the possibility of changing a narcissist pretty much doesn’t exist.
Every family has phrases or expressions that get handed down through the generations. One of my favorites is, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” The other, which I seem to repeat a lot is, “It takes a good leavin’ alone.” A broken relationship with a narcissist is an example of something that cannot be fixed. Remember how you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? Narcissists don’t believe they need any help. You are wasting your time with this one. You bet it’s broke. But this cannot be fixed. There, I’ve said it again. The individual accommodating a narcissist can get in a vicious cycle trying to make right all the damage done to their relationship. It cannot be made right. It takes a good leavin’ alone.
18
Oct 09
Narcissists as Manipulators
I was making banana bread today with a good recipe out of “The Joy of Cooking.” I use this cookbook at least once a week. It’s a favorite. Today, when I opened to the banana bread page, a note fell out of the cookbook. I’ve had this book for probably five years. I had forgotten there was a note inside.
The note was from Mark and it read:
Jess,
Hope you had fun tonight. Sorry about the “late” comment. It was uncalled for. I’ll work on the control thing and lighten up on expectations so you can relax. Have fun at the cabin. Have Will call if he wants. Mark
As I read this note today, I was thinking, “So, how’d that work for ya, Mark? Guess you couldn’t lighten up on the expectations or manage the control thing after all.” In fact, in one of our last “discussions” before I made the decision to move out, he said that he felt he was losing control, and that the family would be happier and healthier if he had more control. Continue reading →
15
Oct 09
A Good Mother
The most important thing she’d learned over the years was that there was no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.
Jill Churchill
15
Oct 09
When The Narcissist Has Kids
My life changed the day I gave birth to my first child. “So tell me something new,” you must be thinking. But if you are a narcissist, you can’t say that. If you are a narcissist, you don’t want to say that your life changed the day you had kids.
Before having children, your life is confined to a nice, tidy boat. Sure, the boat can get tippy. Sometimes the boat can even take on water. Most of the time, if you are lucky, you float your boat, and watch the world from inside, without too many disturbances. If you are really lucky, you have children and your boat capsizes. You end up swimming in the warm, crazy pond of life. Some days you can barely keep your head above water. Some days you float on your back and enjoy all that the pond has to offer, but you never leave the pond for the safety of the boat.
And you don’t want to.
The arrival of children may rock the narcissist’s boat, but the boat never capsizes. Narcissists control their boats very well. They will experience inconveniences periodically, but basically, their boat remains intact.
I was in labor with Will for 22 hours. Labor started at 11:00 p.m. on a Sunday night. I jostled Mark a little, told him it had started, but that I would go downstairs so he could continue sleeping. At 4:00 a.m. he got up to get ready to go to work. When he was leaving he said, “Just hang in there until 8:00 a.m., because I should be done with everything by about then, and I’ll be free to take you to the hospital.” Continue reading →
12
Oct 09
The World’s Best Boss
This story dates back to when I was still married and working for Mark. That means it pre-dates my education in narcissism. That also means that I had no explanation for why he would undertake such a ruse.
At the time, our little town’s local paper was running a contest. The contest would determine who, in our town, was the Best Boss. Employees were to write in and nominate their boss. The contest had been running for awhile. I had been wondering if any of Mark’s employees might nominate him. After all, he was a very charming boss. He seemed to be well-liked. He had a handful of employees who had been with him for several years.
A few weeks into the contest, I was in Mark’s office taking care of a few duties. He’d been working furiously on a project for a couple days, and hadn’t said much about it. I asked him what was requiring so much of his attention. He explained that he was entering the paper’s contest for Best Boss. I said, “I guess I misunderstood. I thought you were supposed to be nominated by one of your employees.” He explained that he wasn’t going to wait for an employee to nominate him. And besides, “None of my employees would give enough details or information to adequately explain why I am such a great boss.” He was serious when he said this. He went on to say that he didn’t think any of them were articulate enough to write up a letter that would be good enough to win the competition. I vividly remember standing in his office during this conversation. I must have looked stunned. I was stunned. I was thinking that, in the best of cases, you might ask your wife to pen such a letter. In the worst of cases, you might stoop to asking an employee to write the letter. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he would write the letter himself. Above all, that was cheating. And maybe more importantly, that was incredibly vain, conceited, self-centered, and egotistical. More than anything, I was embarrassed.
I knew people that worked at the paper. What was I going to say if someone ever commented on the letter that my husband wrote for the competition, about himself. Surely he couldn’t win, based on the fact that he was writing for himself. Why wasn’t he embarrassed by this? How could he be so full of himself, that he wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to brag about himself? I wondered if there was something wrong with me. How many other bosses would write a letter bragging about how great they were to work for?
He actually won the competition. I still can’t believe that. Perhaps he wrote an articulate letter. I read the letter. I have blocked most of what that letter said from my memory. I felt dirty reading it. Maybe there weren’t any other entries. Maybe his charming reputation glossed over the fact that he’d written the letter himself. There are still so many out there that are bamboozled by his charm. Continue reading →
11
Oct 09
True Riches
A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty.
Author Unknown
11
Oct 09
A Boy Needs a Dad
A couple mornings ago we were on our way to school. We got held up in traffic by a school bus coming our direction. The bus driver had his Stop sign out, so we waited for the young passenger to get on board. We were treated to a sweet scene when a dad walked his little girl to the bus. He checked that her coat was zipped up all the way, tugged her hood down to protect her from the chill, adjusted her backpack and planted a kiss on her tiny pink cheek. After she got on the bus, he continued to wait until the bus took off, so he could wave. The bus folded in it’s sign, and we were on our way. Neither one of us mentioned anything about the dad and his daughter.
That night, while I was fixing dinner, Will came into the kitchen and asked me if I’d noticed the dad who walked his daughter to the bus that morning. Of course I’d seen the whole thing, but I asked, “What made you think of that?” “Oh, nothing. I was thinking that guy is a really good dad.” I found it interesting, and a little sad, that he remembered the scene from this morning. I had to admit that I’d been thinking of that all day, too.
Will often comments when he sees a father that he admires. He’ll say how neat it is that the dad appears to actually enjoy his son’s company. Or he’ll say how cool it must be to have your dad want to throw a football with you. It’s as if he’s on the lookout for the right qualities that make a great dad. We’ll be at the park, see a guy playing catch with his son, or another father pushing his daughter on a swing, and Will says, “I wish I had that.” I can tell his heart aches to have that kind of relationship.
The fact that he’s looking for those qualities in someone else indicates that he’s pretty much given up on his dad ever stepping up to the plate.
7
Oct 09
No One Believes You
A couple weeks ago the kids and I went to Starbucks for a rare treat. I saw an acquaintance that I’d not seen since I had left Mark. The fellow commented on how he hadn’t seen me in awhile, and he guessed that I was focusing on raising kids.
I explained that I was divorced, and that my circle and routine had changed.
I enjoy seeing the looks on the faces of those who are just discovering that I am divorced.
This fellow said, “On the list of unexpected news, your divorce is tops. I would have never guessed that would happen to you. You always made marriage look easy.” With coffee in hand, he walked out shaking his head.
__________ Continue reading →
5
Oct 09
The Glass is Half Full or How To Be Grateful When It Doesn’t Seem Like There’s Anything To Be Grateful For
Jenny has this cute little bead craft that she spends a lot of time with. Jenny is a typically energetic 7 year old. She loves to sing and dance to Taylor Swift, she loves to chase her brother around the house and she loves to jump on the couch. But this bead thing is her thing. Sometimes she’ll quietly spend the better part of an hour painstakingly lining up beads in colorful patterns to make butterflies, dolphins or teddy bears. I think it’s her therapy.
Mark was over yesterday. Even though he could not care less about Jenny’s bead project, he fakes interest pretty well. He puts on his sing-song voice and tries to suggest which color Jen should place next. I’m standing in the kitchen and I feel myself wince when I hear him say, “Oh Honey, it would be so much nicer if you used green there instead of blue. And if you used black there, it would make all the other colors show up better.” With each one of his well-meaning comments I can feel Jenny shrink away from him. She’s already a petite little thing, and each of his suggestions seems to make her tinier and tinier.
After Mark left, I looked over to see Jenny in a collapsed pink puddle on the couch. I walked over to the opposite chair and sat so she knew I was there and aware of how she was feeling. I didn’t say anything right away. I knew she needed to feel bad for a bit. Finally I said, “How ya doin’, Jen?” She unleashed with, “How come he never asks about me? How come he’s never interested in what I’m interested in? How come he doesn’t like the colors I pick? Why is it all about what he wants to do?” There was no point in telling her that I knew exactly how she felt. She doesn’t want to hear that. She doesn’t want me to tell her that it feels like she is invisible, or that the wind could blow right through her insides because it feels like there is nothing inside her. She doesn’t care that I let her pick the colors, that I care about her day or that I like to know the details about school and her teacher. She needs that from her dad. I can’t do that for her.
The best I can come up with is to say, “You know, Jenny, I happen to know someone who has a pretty great life even tho’ she doesn’t have a very great relationship with her dad.” “Yeah?” She’s pouting and ready to kick something by this point. “Yeah? Who’s that?” I wait for her to look at me and I say, “Me … Silly.” I give her a second to let it sink in. She looks at me and says, “Yeah? Well you’re lucky!” We both think on that for a moment and then suddenly we both burst out laughing. Even my little 7 year old could see the absurdity in that comment.
4
Oct 09
You Can’t Make This Stuff Up
The day the three of us packed our boxes and moved out of Mark’s house was also my Grandma’s 90th birthday. There was a gathering at the nursing home, and the kids and I loaded the boxes in the car, and headed to the birthday party. That sounds bizarre. The fact that we put the boxes in the car, and went on with the plans of our day was a real indication that my mind was made up. I couldn’t put the decision off because of a 90th birthday party, so we packed and went to the party.
My dad was there. He’s a real piece of work. There’s a whole blog’s worth of stuff to say about my dad. And because there are divorces and re-marriages in my family, there were current spouses, ex-spouses, and ex-ex-spouses at this affair. I am not close with my dad, and I don’t see him often even though we live in the same town. A relative once told me that my dad had mentioned to her that he had seen me crossing the street downtown and there were two little kids with me. My dad actually asked the relative who those kids were. He had met them, of course, but he has so little to do with us that I think he sometimes forgets that I have kids. Anyway, I didn’t want him to be the last family member to know that I had decided to leave Mark, and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again, any time soon, so I figured I’d find a moment at the party to quickly explain my plans. The kids and I were getting ready to leave the party, so I asked my dad if I could talk with him out in the hallway for a second.
We go out into the hallway and I tell him that I’ve decided to leave Mark and that the kids and I would be staying at mom’s for awhile. He looks at me, his eyes well up with tears and he says, “You go back in there and you tell Mary that she should have never left me.” I couldn’t help it, but I heard myself say, “Huh? Mary? Mary who left you six years ago?” And he sobs, “Yeah, Mary has no idea how she hurt me. You go tell her to come out here and talk to me.”
I just walked away and let him stand there feeling sorry for himself. I wanted to say, “I’ll be fine, dad. Don’t worry about me, dad. Don’t worry about Will and Jenny, Dad. We’ll be just fine. We don’t need anything.” But all I could do was walk away. You have got to admire the kind of talent, skill, cunning, whatever you want to call it, that someone has to have to turn another person’s hardship into something that is all about them.
1
Oct 09
Having Time
Time is a created thing. To say, ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.’
Lao-Tzu
1
Oct 09
Narcissists Never Change
Ever have those days when you walk through your bedroom to get something, pass by your bed, and gaze at it longingly? You would just give anything to jump in, have the covers surround you, and not have to deal with anymore that life has to dish out. Today was one of those days.
The previous two nights, Mark has been over to have some “family” discussions. We have been re-evaluating our choice of school for Will and Jenny. Mark has been out of the loop, so I figured we better bring him into the dilemma. He swooped in, took his role as patriarch, and began to attempt to solve the problem. And that’s a good thing. The kids need to see him take an interest in their lives. However, I could feel myself getting progressively more tense as these talks got longer. By the second night, he had gathered more info from other sources, and he was ready to enlighten us. He was ready to take action. We needed to set up a time to check out a different school. He asked if I was going to make the call. I suggested that since he had already established a contact, and since his work schedule was more demanding, he ought to make the call and I would work around his schedule. He explained that he doesn’t hear well on the phone, and if I had questions, he wouldn’t hear the answers. (He has had issues with his hearing since I’ve known him, but his vanity prevents him from doing anything about it.) I told him that I’d just ask the questions at the school. This was on a Wednesday night. He was all jazzed about getting this handled. When I suggested that he make the call the following morning, and schedule something for the next day’s afternoon, he balked. “Oh, I can’t possibly be available until Monday. I’ve way too much going on at work right now.” Once again, the kids couldn’t possibly trump his agenda.
Tonight when he called, he was loudly munching on carrots, and distractedly asked about our day. When I said that we were all a little blue because of this school dilemma he said, “Why? What happened? Aren’t they happy there?” What? Wasn’t he here the last two nights, telling us what to do and how to fix this? I guess he figured he’d milked this situation for all he could get. He was bored with our little crisis and had already moved on to something more interesting.
I’m headed for the comfort of my bed-a little earlier tonight than usual. Just when I think maybe he’s turned the corner and he’s starting to have a little empathy for his kids, I get jerked back to reality with another slap in the face. On the bright side, I’ll never run out of material for this blog. (Note to self: See the post on Forgiveness.)
27
Sep 09
Narcissists Are Everywhere
I come from a long line of narcissists. It wasn’t until I started reading about NPD that I realized just how many narcissists were in my family. There is certain risk involved in learning about NPD. Suddenly, it starts to seem like you are surrounded by narcissists. So that’s why Aunt Bonnie is so self-centered. No wonder Uncle George can’t seem to talk about anything but himself. And a lot of family members can seem that way. They are probably nothing more than your garden-variety, self-centered, annoying relative. No family is without them. But it’s when you look more closely and really pinpoint those defining characteristics, that you learn just how one narcissist begets another, and the cycle continues.
I really loved my grandmother. She doted on me. And when I became a young woman, and it was more difficult for her to do the doting, I doted on her. We spent a lot of time together. I never crossed her. I loved her and there was no need to disagree with her. Nothing was so important that I had to disappoint her by offering a dissenting opinion. I was the perfect source. I never failed to tell her that she was a fabulous cook. And I always commented on how pretty she was when she was young. That’s a real big deal to a narcissist.
Well, I made a big mistake as far as my grandma was concerned. I got married. You can see how that posed a big problem for her. Certainly, if I was getting married, I would have to spend time with the guy I would be marrying. That would take away from the time I was supposed to be spending with her. She didn’t come right out and tell me that she was disappointed. She became petty. When we would be chatting about something, she’d call Mark, “What’s-His-Name.” Or she’d make a snide comment about what he looked like, or what he did for a living. She made it clear that I could have made a better choice. I thought her behavior was odd, but I attributed her pettiness to age. At that point in time, I had yet to learn about NPD. Now, with my schooling in narcissism, I can look back and see her bizarre behavior for what it truly was.
If it wasn’t bad enough that I decided to go out and get married, I then made matters worse by deciding to have a baby. I could hardly wait to tell grandma the news. Surely, those nearest and dearest to me would be as over-joyed as I was. Her immediate response was, “Well, I guess, if that’s what makes you happy.” My brother and his wife had two of their own, and I went on to have a second. With each pregnancy, she was only interested enough to say, “If it’s a girl, I sure hope you name her after me.”
