Friday, October 28, 2011

Matters of biology and whether biology matters

My mother's stepfather was the person closest and dearest to me when I was growing up. He was also the only non-narcissist and non-enabler in my immediate family. So, when sane, normal people are concerned, genes don't generally play a decisive role - these people treat children decently, whether they're related to them or not.

Narcissists, on the other hand, will mistreat any children in their care, whether they're their biological parents or not. So, why does it even matter whether my NF is my biological father or not?

Well, just imagine your run-of-the-mill malignant narcissist in his situation and things begin to make sense. First, our narcissist discovers he is infertile, which is a difficult thing for any man - or woman - to reconcile with, but it is crushing for a narcissist - infertility is one of the most devastating narcissistic injuries conceivable. Add to this injury the insult of his wife's great desire to have a child - if necessary, with another man's sperm. The narcissist grants her this wish, but she is supposed to take the blame for those previous 12 years of infertility. The newly-created child is already proof of his fertility in front of others, but a constant reminder of his lack of manhood (or whatever he might have in his narcissistic mind) to himself.

Can you really claim this situation is not somehow just a bit more complex than the narcissist getting his own child, a potential mini-me?

The malignant narcissist's wife gives birth to a child that looks quite a bit like her and seems to be happy, getting what she wanted and what he might have wanted too, but couldn't have. As a man who has been known to repeatedly do things just to spite others and rain on their parade and ruin it for them, he:

a) becomes the perfect, ideal, most dedicated father ever, bottle-feeding the infant, taking the child out for long walks, helping the mother to such an extent that she barely notices she has a child, for which she and the child are eternally grateful, or

b) out of envy, sabotages the nursing relationship and takes the baby away from the mother to prove that though she may be the biological parent, he can still usurp the child and control her and force her to love him more. The mother consents to this, out of gratitude and guilt, and doesn't complain because, after all, he's spending time with a child not biologically his, and this is so sweet of him. She lets other things go because of this too.

I'd go with b).

What do you think?

I know. I just know.

I had a dream a few nights ago where I was descending steep and dangerous steps to get to the edge of a deep and dangerous river where I could meet a fisherman who'd sell me a fish. Halfway down the steps, wondering whether I'd break my neck or drown, I realized I already had a fish in my hands. And it was a stinky, disgusting fish I didn't know what to do with. Nothing I'd like to prepare for my family or eat. I just looked at it.

The moment I woke up, I understood that this meant I already know my father is not my biological father. I don't need to do a DNA test - risking him discovering I know this and paying money for it - in order to find out. I already know. And I don't really know what to do with it.

My aunt recently remembered another tidbit from a long time ago (she digs stuff up from her memory, just like all of us do, in no particular order, as it all comes back to her): my mother told her, before I was conceived, about their fertility issues.

Apparently, instead of doing it the normal way - males go first, because it's much less invasive - my mother first underwent extensive fertility testing which revealed there was nothing wrong with her before my father agreed to be tested and, whaddya know - the test revealed "half his sperm was dead, and the rest of it was lazy," my mother told my aunt in the strictest confidence.

My mother told me as much when I was 18.

Short of a divine miracle, the only way in which my mother could have conceived in 1981 was via donor sperm.

I look nothing like my father or his sister or parents, and neither do my kids. Not a single little insignificant trait. A short glance at my kids next to their parents or anyone in my husband's family quickly and easily reveals those little familial similarities.

What difference does it make? Not much, really. But there are implications of this on my mind that I'll just have to share.

Friday, October 21, 2011

He's back

It's weird. I have little energy for describing my encounter with him. I found I was acting somewhat narcissistic around him which may or may not have been related to his being more defensive and polite. It's all weird.

His girlfriend was here and she found it appropriate to use us as audience or protection to discuss her issues with him. Bizarre verbal abuse and pathological jealousy stuff. I said in front of him that the only way to counter his irrational behavior might be to stop taking it seriously. He said nothing and grinned in a forced, eery way. I might now be "audience" to him, which is good. He's on his best behavior in front of us.

I find, though, that I have a hard time being in the same room with him. For no particular reason. He's just a presence I feel uncomfortable around. I didn't feel like this before.

When I look at him, there's just one thing I see. Know those cartoons where a starving person sees a roast when looking at anyone or anything? Well, I look at him and I see DNA samples. I see stuff that might help me determine if he is indeed my biological father or not. And not much else.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The error in his strategy

He never conditioned me to feel sorry for him, to feel close to him, to feel anything for him that might be tender. No, he was always strong, tough, needing nothing from anyone. He never even pretended to show me any tenderness or love. He faked it and talked about it to others, but he didn't show me any affection, even fake stuff, not really.

He only conditioned me to fear his wrath.

His narcissistic mother, on the other hand, pretended to love him and his sister to death and conditioned them to cater to her emotionally and to feel guilty about her emotions.

And through much of my childhood and adulthood he tried to manipulate me using her tactics. Which failed. Because, not being properly conditioned, I took him at his word.

For instance, things like "Well, if I embarrass you, although your friends like me, I won't be at your party" were met with my "Great, thanks" instead of "Oh, no, of course you don't embarrass me, please don't be hurt!"

My vacation is over

Daddy dearest is coming back to town. My 6-month break from him is over. I hadn't heard from him in three weeks, most probably because I hadn't complied with his request that I send him ALL the pictures I have of our summer, but he ended the silent treatment to notify me of his return, complain of "no news from me :(" (read: no photos) and... request more photos.

I sent him a few pics of my husband remodeling our apartment (tiles, painting, floors - he did everything himself and I'm very proud of him.)

I find I'm not like the rest of you. I don't dream that my father will be somehow transformed and then we could have a real relationship. I have no desire for a real relationship with him. I don't remember a time after my earliest childhood when I did.

It appears any feelings I could have had for him except fear (and occasionally anger) have been numb for a long time. Years. Decades, even.

He never fostered those feelings, like many NMs do, for instance, inspiring the illusion of a relationship in their children - he only fostered fear.

My only wish in dealing with him is for a time to come when I feel I am stronger, healthier, and not afraid. To feel truly free of him in my head.

I feel him as a sort of opponent, adversary, foil - but one I will always treat civilly and diplomatically, never making a faux pas that might justify any move against us.

Saturday, October 1, 2011


I've been feeling weird and lost. Lots of stuff happening which I don't know what to do with emotionally.

My "boss" (direct superior as of this year, but there are other wonderful people there) has lied about me and to me and caused complications, but things are looking up and working out, apparently.

My father is apparently giving me the silent treatment again for not sending him more photos, which I'm enjoying and happily ignoring.

The narcissistic author I'm translating for has managed to get me to promise to finish his book by early October (he's one of those voice narcissists, darn them). It MIGHT be done by the middle of the month. He owes me money again, so I'm not TOO worried or guilty, but still.

I have serious narcissistic traits in my subconscious. Or so I think. Proof: My M. Phil. mentor is now the head of the gov't uni dept. I recently dropped by and thanked him for his mentorship. It must be because I'm hoping to secure a position there.

Except: I've wanted to thank him for a long time because he truly was and is an amazing, wonderful, supportive mentor. Through my ACON journey I realized I had a serious problem expressing anything that might seem like "sucking up" (because I saw my father's toadying too often) and I felt I wanted to right that wrong. And I don't actually WANT to work there, but he might have thought that this was my hidden agenda. I'm so screwed up.