As if I'd killed your father

Whenever my narcissistic father said or did something that shocked and angered me when I was growing up, and, of course, not being allowed to actually say anything, I just looked at him in dismay, he'd say:

"Why are you looking at me as if I'd killed your father?"

What a bizarre thing to say, right? I knew what this was supposed to mean: "I, your father, am the most valuable thing in your life, and killing me would be the most heinous thing anyone could ever do to you, so whatever I might have done to you is tiny in comparison and you'd better remember how precious I am to you right now."

But it has an eery double meaning. In a way, he did "kill" my father when he made sure I'll never know who my real father is. I wonder if he realized that when he said it.

Poetry for narcissistic parents

I wrote this for Vicarious Rising's awesome poetry contest (check it out) and I wanted to share it with everyone who might get a chuckle out of it. I hope VR won't mind.

Poem to my ungrateful, unloving, callous “adult” daughter

Your birth was hard, oh precious one
I tried to hold you in
And you yourself seemed not to want
Your journey to begin

When you escaped my warm, soft womb
You wept and wailed and cried
Isn’t life hard? Wasn’t it nice
When you were still inside?

When you were young you needed me
Again for me you cried
You said “I love you, Mama” then:
Apparently, you lied.

Because now that you’re all grown up
You don’t think I’m so nice
You don’t obey my every wish
Or heed my wise advice

You don’t light up when I come to
Surprise you at your door
When I hang up, you don’t beg me
To talk a little more

Your husband and your snotty friends
Stole your love away
Don’t have children, this I know:
You will rue the day

A distraught mother


The mother goddess

When you were tiny, I fed you –

Not at your every cry –

(You always were a drama queen)

And, hey, you didn't die.

I gave you clothes – I'll grant you this:

Those hand-me-downs were old

(You weren't as pretty as I was)

But you were never cold.

Remember, once, when you were small,

With your toy trains I played!

Like these above, so too this debt

Can never be repaid!

And most of all, I gave you life!

You owe your life to me!

And those that grant the gift of life

Must always worshiped be!

It isn't fair! I gave you life

And then you went astray!

I should be granted this small right:

To take that life away!

Life-bestowers have demanded

Human sacrifice.

For this goddess your eternal

Bondage should suffice.

Your loving mother

An Estranged Child Sees the Light after Having Been Pestered Mercilessly by Persistent Narcissistic Mother

You gave me life. Blood, milk and tears.

With care you nurtured all my fears.

You taught me well not to rebel

Alas, I chose the road to Hell.

I thought I could survive alone,

Without your love, all on my own.

I wanted you to leave me be.

How blind I was! But now I see:

A mother’s love will never cease –

A wayward child will not find peace.

I understand I’m less than dirt:

Please let me back under your skirt!

Your Lowly Repentant Prodigal Child


Honor your parent

- Respect and love are owed to him

Who gave you all you’ve got

Who made you, kept you, and always

Loved you – no matter what

Who always had a home for you

Though you were always free

Who always listened to your words

Of thanks, or rage, or glee

Who always had his wise, good ways

But let you find your own.

- You mean my narcissistic dad?

- Oh, Hell, no! God alone.

(An imaginary conversation with a priest)

Secret Birthday Party

Yesterday, on Gregorian Easter (Happy Easter to everyone celebrating according to the Gregorian calendar!) I decided to throw a little secret birthday party for myself (my real birthday will be on Good Friday according to the Julian calendar and thus not a good day to celebrate).

I invited only my aunt and cousins, and my husband and kids were there. I even had a tiny cake and blew candles. I decided to be surrounded only by the people who love me unconditionally for my birthday. It was the best birthday ever, and it wasn't even my birthday!

My aunt was able to clarify a little mystery to me: I'd been wondering about my NF's "sea change" - why he's been so much "nicer" and "more supportive" to us since his latest return from the seaside this last October - quite simply put, my now enlightened aunt has stopped listening to his tirades about me compassionately. She used to think of him as a somewhat eccentric and sentimental old cook who can be lent a shoulder to cry on. She now shuts him up and defends me fiercely. He no longer has the support he needs to be openly abrasive and critical. He has no one to play martyr to. Talking to some people actually makes a difference!

I can't express how grateful I am to her for this. And for knowing that there's a "grown-up" who loves me unconditionally and I'm even related to her!

She also told me, when I admitted I have an irrational fear of him that I rationalize through various disaster scenarios of things he might do to us, that he'd never do anything like that - he lives on being seen as the perfect father and grandfather by others and those scenarios would expose him as someone much different.

Also, she says, should anything happen - I wouldn't be alone. She'd defend me.

Innoculation

This makes a lot of sense. To me at least. Spent a lot of time, energy, and emotion trying to get my MIL to see my point of view about my father this weekend, all in vain.