Guilt, Revisited

Yesterday, I was given a blessing. My aunt and uncle offered to help me absolve my credit card debt in one sign of a pen. They also let me know they'd cosign on an apartment with DH and me/pay for deposit and first month's rent so we can get a move on with our life and start saving money for things that matter like buying a house (instead of playing catch up for the next 10 years with my bills). This was supposed to be a very exciting time. With my PTSD and intense need to fall back into the attitude of a DoNM in mind, though, you can imagine this was a lot for me to bear.

I feel like I asked for too much and like I'm really undeserving of anyone's help.

I feel like I'm being greedy and playing a victim that needs a handout.

DH did not appreciate my negative attitude in a time where I should be overflowing with great joy. We talked about how it is instinct for me to feel guilty when I receive help because that's how my NM made me feel like I was supposed to be. Most importantly, however, he told me the only way to recover from what is happening to me is to stop taking the mindset of a victim.

Although his tough love is necessary, I feel like I'm not there yet. Like I just put this on the top shelf and forgot about it, instead of actually acknowledging all of the things that have happened to me and how I feel about NM/the situation. If I can't define how I'm feeling, I can't get over it.

I have to read Dr. McBride's book "Will I Ever Be Good Enough?" again and continue to write about how I'm feeling to really approach recovery. Maybe then I can finally tell myself that I deserve love and kindness and I can start feeling happy.

Has something like this ever happened to you?

Reaching Out and my Graduation Party

I've been hoping that this blog will serve as a connection for suffering DoNMs that find solace in knowing they are not alone. I'm hoping to hear similar stories to mine about how your NM or NF ruined your day or your wedding or your graduation. I'm hoping to hear about the constant burden of your own thoughts on your happiness. We truly aren't alone in this journey, and I think knowing that others are going through the same thing is relieving, to say the least.

 I'm going to start off with a story, and maybe you'll hear in it a story that sounds almost like yours and you can share yours.

When I graduated from college, my NM *insisted* we had to have a party (note: this party happened about a year later when things were "more convenient for her"). I, having graduated early, insisted it was not necessary to coordinate any big festivities as I was already working and really didn't have the time or energy to really involve myself in planning a party I would like (note 2: a graduation party is supposed to be in the style the graduate would like). So of course she decided to take matters into her own hands and coordinate the entire thing herself, and ultimately therefore to her own personal liking at not mine. I figured this would have happened anyway, whether I was an interested party in this or not, so I decided to not really care and just let her N not affect my daily business.

She ended up deciding to throw the party at an EXTREMELY fancy NYC establishment that is stuffy and reminds me of old Italian people and general snootiness. The walls are oak-paneled and whittled cherubs and acanthus leaves line the walls (along with gold-leafed crap and marble fireplaces...you catch my drift.) Anyone would tell you this was in direct contrast to any party I had envisioned, which would have probably included a tent, a backyard, and a LOT of Bacardi Mojito. I had to comment on my general discontent with this place, as I was hoping to invite friends and not all of them can afford the kind of gifts or attire a place like this establishment would suggest...a lot of them wouldn't come simply on the fact that it was too uppity for them. This was a problem my NM was anticipating, and probably reveled in excitement that I could only invite my seemingly wealthy friends who would give me gifts. Perhaps one of my rich male friends would even propose. Who knows how her mind works...I digress.

I was dating DH at the time and he had moved up to be with me in NY. Clearly, after all of the negative things she had heard about him through a mutual friend trying to be a horrible person, he was not going to be invited. He couldn't afford a proper suit anyway, she must have thought! The issue with the fact that I was going to be forced to leave him at home is something that still eats at him to this day.

When it came time for music, I knew I had it in the bag. My long time friend is a DJ (and even fits into her rich kid category!) and I was hoping he'd coordinate the music so I could at least tolerate the night. At this point, NM's N energy was on full-blast and she hired her own live band who play exclusively old time music with a focus on Sinatra. I think I wanted to die at this point. I wasn't able to choose the food, my guests, the drinks, my outfit, the music....NM didn't even care that I was unhappy. Think of the gifts, she'd tell me. Yeah, they were the only reason I was going to go. I was going to get the money and the items and pay off my debt and perhaps have a little surplus to survive until I got the hell out of there.

Fast forward to the actual night when I was forced to kiss DH goodbye and see his misery (I REALLY didn't want to cause massive commotion and not show up to my own party), and reluctantly endured the misery of mingling with people that make my stomach turn. Thankfully, there were a few people there that were enjoyable (coworkers, godbrother, one cousin), but besides that, it was the executed plan on NM in all of her glory. This was a fancy cocktail event from hell. It was a gathering of old rich people who liked to rub each others egos -- my NM and EF's lawyers, accountants, and wealthy friends. I could have thrown up. The music was horrible and I couldn't hide my disgust from them. I left as quickly as I could (NM had had a little bit to drink so she was a little more normal), and when she asked me how I liked the "amazing party she threw for me", I told her what I felt. I had a miserable time, I came for the gifts, and it is a shame that she can't get her ego together and let her children have their glory. Clearly that did not go over well with her, and her frustration with the fact that I could not be what she wanted culminated in that night. Since then, she has been plotting my eviction, a breakup between me and DH (didn't work so well!!), and my financial instability that would potentially drive me into the ground (again, didn't work so well!).

I probably should have stood up for myself more effectively, but I've learned a few things since then as my relationship with DH and his family has developed.

Do you have a story about your NM or NF's ridiculousness?

Check out this ridiculous family photo. It's like the mafia rebirth.

Dream Board/My Boss

I've decided that I've been too discouraged lately. I've been swamped with emotions of abandonment, loss, frustration, anxiety, confusion, exhaustion....all over a plethora of grandiose issues like my relationship with my family, DH, IL's, boss at work...the list can go on and on. I can feel myself slipping into bad posture, fatigue, etc. and I know this is not a path I want to go down. I need to dig deep and find a way to make sure I remain on track so I can see MY dreams realized.

This evening when I get home from work, I'm going to create a dream board and share it with everyone. It will include clippings of quotes I love, images that inspire me, and it will stand for everything I believe in and everything that I want. This way, when I'm feeling discouraged, I can look at the pictures I've included on the board and feel a re-inspired "me" beneath all the yuckiness.

Stay tuned for that.

In other news, I have to say that I've discovered that my new boss is a bit of an N. He enjoys yelling at telling other people how insignificant and stupid they are, and have brought many of my co-workers to tears now (another one quit). For example, he told my coworker that she messed up issuing a check when he sat with her and helped her do it. Afterwards, he told her that the only answer he wanted to the issue was that "she was wrong and apologetic." She conceded, but found herself as confused and frustrated as I had been many times in my life with my NM. It is strange, but I have to say my experience with my out-of-control NM has made the situation easier for me to handle and allows me to move on with my day because...for lack of a better phrase...I've had it worse. I know how to deal with someone who thinks he or she said and done everything perfectly and can't admit their mistakes. NM is the queen of that. She'd tell me she said something that she didn't and I'd be stuck with the blame. He kind of does the same thing, especially to the other woman that works with me (who is a doll and listens to all of my griping for an unnaturally long amount of time). This is cake to me. However, the issue I'm grappling with right now is whether I should have to put up with people like that. Maybe they find me and feed off of my subordinate nature while facing authority. DH says I should stick around and see how it continues, as I'm not really the one who has had the major issues with him. That's what I'm going to go with right now, and I'm going to rely on his fresh insight to tell me if the situation goes south. Knowing me, I'd probably stick it out forever, even if I were miserable and never got a raise, because I'd probably think I deserved it. Good thing I can recognize this issue now, at least that's a step in the right direction.

To all of you who are struggling with NMs and NFs, please feel free to get in touch with me.

My Brother

This weekend was pretty normal, got rid of my watch that I didn't want anymore (it had some pretty significant wear and tear also) for quite a bit of money, found an effective way to budget, actually got to sit and have a normal meal with DH...I was feeling good.

I even did a bunch of ab workouts...my stomach hurts today but in a good way. Godbrother insisted that it will make me feel better and help me clear my mind. I agree with that to a degree, but post-abs, enter random unexpected terrible feelings of loss, most specifically about GC brother and my effective mama, life-long babysitter/au pair/whatever you want to call her.

I feel so shitty that I don't know what my brother is up to, even though he is definitely GC and would probably step over my dead body to get what he wanted. It's not even really that I think knowing what he was doing would be gratifying, I just feel like I am such a shit sister for not sacrificing myself to see him happy. This sacrificial lamb thing is very typical of DoNM's and it took quite a bit of reprimanding from DH to get me into a better place. He would have reached out to me, DH insists, or found a way to tell me it was going to be okay in secret. He is so secretive otherwise; he knows how to take the car without them knowing and basically barely get in trouble for anything he does by grossly rubbing NM's and EF's egos. If only I had known how to use this tactic properly, but I can't help being honest and emotionally driven.

So, I'm going to write GC brother a letter, and if he finds it via the way of the internet one of these days, so be it.

Brother,

The guilt I carry in what I feel was "leaving you behind" is phenomenal. It kills me so often to realize that I don't know what's going on with your exams for college, where you are interested in applying, your fears and excitement about the process, how school is going, what girls you're into for the next 24 hours (which we know happens all the time), etc. The circumstances don't allow me to be the sister I wish I could be.

Nothing can describe the love I wish I could give to you, brother; so many times I've thought of compromising my own happiness to make sure that you had your happiness, your safety, your long and fulfilling life. However, I've come to realize you have a lot of growing to do. I'm not sure if you'll realize one day why I did what I did, but for right now you are interested in your own personal advancement, which clearly means you have to agree with everything that NM and EF say. I am left to do nothing but wait, to see if you are just young and not understanding of the situation, or whether that's really the personality you want to pursue. If that's really how you want to continue, I do not wish to point fingers, but I'll have to remain cut off from you also.

Til then, I am here with my arms open, waiting for you to be my brother, nothing more, nothing less.

The Nightmares

As the days accumulate after my victorious escape from the clutches of my parents' narcissism, the nightmares have grown in frequency and have led me to be a generally awful person to be around. I find comfort in virtually nothing except emptying my mind of all thoughts by watching mindless YouTube videos or looking through old friends' 1000-count Facebook album photos. This isn't the life I want to live and I am trying my best to find ways to confront my guilt and fear.

I left the apartment of theirs in a rather chaotic rush, leaving more than half of my belongings behind. Treasured books and curtains I took weeks to select were all parted with in a matter of an hour. Their narcissism had become increasingly threatening, had made my boyfriend lose his job (a more detailed story for later!!), and made me feel generally uncomfortable and unhappy. I had spent my whole life working to be the person that they wanted me to be: I chose the college they wanted me to choose, tried to get into graduate school to make them happy, and always showed them grades that proved I'd excelled. It didn't matter. Their response was always, "okay, keep it up." If anything was out of line in the house like a dish being left out or an argument between my brother and I flared up, the repercussions fell on me because I was always the inevitable target. I finally knew there was only one choice to make: give my things up and fit what I could in the car, or leave everything I'd worked for and fall again into their world of obligation and shame....only this time it would be worse for "putting them through what they had to go through with my latest rebellion." In a movie-like escape, I fled, middle-of-the-night style and moved to a place where I am allowed to be myself. However, any daughter of a narcissist (and anyone that enables them) knows that recovery comes not only with physical distance, and I've been completely unable to distance myself from them.

The nightmares come in many forms. Either I dream they find me here and pull me from the life I've made for myself...literally....by the hair...into their car, or it's a dream about how they follow me from place to place and there is always someone watching me making me feel guilty about what I'm doing, like, private investigator style. Sometimes I even dream about one of many moments in my past where I felt such guilt and shame that I wanted to melt into the floor, like the times she embarrassed me in front of people for her humor or when she'd wake me in the middle of the night to yell at me because she knew I'd be too sleepy to respond and she'd finally get her unabashed say in how things should be. This has become and every day affair. I haven't been able to properly deal with how I feel about them as we are already financially pressed and I do not have the time to regularly confront the issue in some sort of guided therapy. Reading self-help books (like "Will I Ever Be Good Enough?" by Dr. Karyl McBride, which I highly suggest and daughters of narcissists read) and YouTube DIY videos are my only comfort, and even that isn't really good enough.

Even without them here, I am unable to feel rested, and I've grown increasingly grouchy over the past few days wondering whether all of the moves I've made are really worth it. Maybe they're right, or I'm wrong, or something. Why did I put all of my loved ones through this? Nobody deserves to be dragged into this mess. And what if I'm really crazy and have just been portraying my side well enough? Then they're efforts are really for naught. And how about all of the people I've been surrounded with who are doing fine? How are they doing it? Doesn't everyone have problems? Why aren't their problems affecting them like mine are? Simply put, excuse my French, I constantly feel like a piece of shit. Any little remark from anyone that has any sort of criticism or negativity mixed in sends me into a whirlwind of shittiness and memories of always not feeling good enough.

What's worse is that the exhaustion doesn't just come in an emotional form. I am physically deteriorating which is ridiculous for a person to be experiencing in her twenties. The stress they perpetually bring, even without their physical presence or close proximity, has taken its toll on my back and neck and have caused me to remain fatigued, even when I've slept for upwards of twelve, thirteen hours. I am in constant pain and have trouble picking things up that I've dropped on the floor because my muscles are so tense.

I need to look into coping mechanisms like writing about it like I'm doing here, but do any daughters of narcissists have any suggestions? I know I've already taken the right steps in distancing myself, and I don't think I'm quite ready to send them a letter acknowledging my hurt as I've already tried that and send myself into a two-day mental breakdown, but is there anything you do to separate yourself from your guilt? Do you have a hobby or is it more than that? I try to find solace in my husband but sometimes I just feel like he's pushing me too quickly, of course unintentionally. I don't blame him, but he just doesn't understand the extent of my weakness.

I'm just so....tired.

Best,

xo

The Dog

I'm writing this before I go to take my dog King on a long walk; he needs the exercise as he has been cooped up lately due to the rain we've been having. As I was brushing my teeth this morning, I began thinking about how he was the impetus for a lot of the extremely drastic changes I've made recently, and how he helped free me from a lot of the narcissistic control that was going on in my life.

My husband and my second cat did not get along, and so when I gave him up to another family (for both of their sakes), I was pretty devastated. I felt like I had let the cat down; like he was a representative of the vulnerability I had all through childhood, and how me, without child, could exhibit traits of patience and kindness to him. I could be, for this cat, the mother that *I* never had. This is absolutely ridiculous considering he went to an exceptionally good family home with a kind and soft-spoken mother, her patient and loving husband, and their two gentle little boys. They were the perfect recipients of my pseudo-child, and perhaps could be more for this cat that I was being at the time. It is also ridiculous because I cannot live vicariously through a cat and expect to get by on the feelings I am *assuming* he feels. Such is the personality of someone traumatized from a lifetime of dealing with a narcissist. I had become the scapegoat for even the most minute events that happened in our household growing up, and I never came out of an argument the victor. Every conversation I've ever had with my mother has only left me a little more wounded or ashamed. A typical random jab would go as such:

(someone in a wheelchair rolls by, perhaps he or she broke his or her leg)

Mom: (stares condescendingly at the wheelchair person) You are so lucky you're healthy, that's the most important thing -- look at what happened to that poor person. *I* won't be healthy forever, that's why I deserve your attention and respect.

How did we even get to that? And how do you just openly say something like that? My mother is in her mid 60's and she is not going to hit her death bed for another 30 years minimum, I guarantee it. It is in her genes. Her father died at 86 and her mother at 92. She looks like she is MAYBE 50 years old. She is constantly at the gym and worried about her physique (as any wealthy narcissist NEEDS to do), but she is not worried about the simple things that people don't see like mammograms or routine dental checkups. The irony is that she complains about how she is going to die all the time, which is an excuse she got from her brother dying of a mesothelioma-like cancer from being exposed to toxins all the time (constantly going in basements for work...you catch my drift). A simple cough turns into an exaggerated illness of the rarest kind -- she even milks it up to sound worse if you're talking to her. "Maybe I'm going to die," she coughs, "you never know." No, actually, I do know. You don't even have a cold. Something went down your throat the wrong way when you were shoving it down and hiding it from everyone. If she wanted to take care of her health, she'd make an attempt to stop being stressed about every little blip on the radar that comes her way. Yeah, sometimes the house gets a little messy. Sometimes things leak. Sometimes things don't go perfectly at work. She makes these issues life-or-death situations which, inevitably, pile up and cause death. Somehow, she thrives off of these things. And somehow, I feel like I owe her something due to the fact that she said it. Imagine she actually died after making a comment like that? I'd feel guilty forever. So, again, I'd keep getting drawn in.

Anyway, I digress. My (now) husband knew I was devastated over the cat and allowed me time to appropriately heal from the ridiculousness I was feeling. He fully explained to me that a cat cannot be a life I vicariously find happiness through, although I have a right to be sad to let go of a pet. Once I worked on these feelings, he decided he really did want another cat (but not one that did not get along with him), and so we decided to go to the pound to get another one. (I avidly support animal adoption.)

**An important note here is that we were living in a building at the time that is owned by my parents' company. That issue is a long one for another day, but let's just say I'm happy I'm out of there as of now. The fact that we lived there (and were decent, rent-paying tenants), is a major topic of contention for what follows.**

When we get to the pound, instead of being directed straight towards the section with cats and kittens, we pass the section of dogs. Even while I was single and living by myself I had always dreamed of owning a dog. I had one when I was still living in my parents house in high school, and I love animals. However, I couldn't find the time to care for a dog by myself, especially with a cat already in the house. After a little bit of trying to talk myself out of it, I cannot resist going in the dog section and having a look. Almost every dog is yappy and jumpy, two personality traits that would not mesh with an apartment building and the crazy complaining tenants that live there (who would complain to my parents...see the issue?). However, when I get to the end of the row, I see King. He, my husband, and I all clicked. He is composed and quiet, but not fatigued in any way, just sitting properly to see if we would have a look. Instantly, I knew I wanted to take this animal home. I also knew a dog would not be something my parents would be too fond about my having, but I decide to be strong and do what is going to make me happy (and make my husband happy because he wanted one too!). We take him home and I'm finally at peace. He is quiet and behaved and sweet, and just has a little bit of separation anxiety. He cries a little bit when we leave him, but stops and goes to sleep, an issue we can work on and fix in a matter of a couple months.

That peace doesn't last longer than about a week.

I don't get a text message or a phone call from my already-enraged-due-to-losing-control parents asking about why I have a "large dog" in my apartment and what we can do to solve the disagreement about my having it. No, instead I get a 10 Day Notice to Cure or they will commence an eviction which takes about two more legal business days. Basically, their lawyer sent me a notice saying "other tenants have been complaining. You have a little more than a week to get rid of the dog or I'm throwing you out. Sincerely, the lawyer for your parents." Talk about trying to exercise control. I would have been happy to have the discussion and arrange something had they been open with me. They're not just my landlords. They're supposed to be my parents. However, I know that the Notice to Cure is not just about the dog. They're upset that my boyfriend isn't what *they* imagined for me. They're upset that I don't call them every day anymore. That I'm not slaving working for them. You get my point. They're mad that I'm not their robot anymore, and they'll do anything to take me down. The dog is a perfect excuse.

 Well, at that point, I flew into devastation again. We could not afford to live anywhere else as my husband had just started his job, and I was in transition from working for my parents and being deliberately underpaid (aka they knew I didn't have enough to eat after I paid the rent). I was not getting rid of the dog. I couldn't do it. So, we scrambled for every option. I called Pet Hotlines and reached out to everyone we knew for foster care. Fortunately, a family friend took him for a couple of weeks so we could find a little more time to figure out how to get out.

All I get in the meantime is a message from my mother which basically asks what has become of me and why I continue to do such hateful things to MY family. (Hah, MY family) Why, she asks me, would I reject people that have given me everything? That *is* a question she would ask. I choose not to respond as I am not ready to do it in a respectful manner and it would probably only send me backwards at this point. I cannot afford a therapist at the moment. I'm working on all of this myself.

In a story for another time, we are forced to leave the apartment sooner rather than later due to their hand being in our professional lives as well. Hang tight for that one.

Simply put, I would have been caught in their net for so much longer had the dog not caused their lawyer to send Notice to Cure. (By the way: turns out neighbors weren't complaining, it was passed along to us that my parents had hired a private investigator to follow us. Weird.) I finally took the step and was courageous enough to move out of a place they owned, a place that was so familiar to me in a sick obsessive way. It really was an action that was so straightforward instead of the perverse "we love you so we're doing this horrible thing to you". 

I still feel really out of my element; I'm in a totally different place with a different vibe and its unfamiliarity makes me nervous. I was so comfortable being a child due to being treated like a child. I had grown comfortable being told what to do and who to be, even with argument and tantrum. However, I'm ready to learn how to be an act like an adult. I am married and in a totally new place now. It's time to start over and figure out who I want to be.

I'm just glad my dog is a part of it. Time to go walk him!

My best. <3

Introduction, Background, and Intent

I am not a writer. My thoughts are all over the place and nothing ever seems cohesive, but I'm going to give this my best shot.

Throughout my childhood, I was afforded all of the finer things in life: all of the gifts I could have ever dreamed up--from Barbies to books to clothes from boutique stores, the luxury of private school and fancy birthday parties. However, as I transitioned from little girl to moldable teen to developed adult, I managed to realize that things weren't quite the same in my house as they were in others. I may have been wealthy and well-to-do, but I knew somehow underneath it all that I was a victim of something truly subversive. My mother, without question, is a narcissist. She has a full blown disorder.

I could write for years about the stories that come out of my childhood, and even more so my teenage years. About the accumulation of wounds that have turned me, simply put, into a traumatized human being. About how my mother was just about the most narcissistic human being to walk the planet; each conversation was about her and how hard her pampered life had truly been. How she learned it from her mother. About the unnecessary demands and the soap she'd shove into my mouth when I spoke up for what I believed in. About how she'd rile up my father into an angry hulk-like monster who would lose himself and take it out on me. About how I always carried around the guilt and feelings of shame for not being able to make others happy -- and how when I would express even an inkling of independence they'd convince others I was disobedient and mentally unstable. However, I've decided to take a step back from getting it all out at once and write more specifically about how I'm feeling on my path to recovery, and which of those stories are relevant to the roadblock I'm facing.

To give you JUST a little bit of background, I was, as I've mentioned, a wealthy girl from a wealthy city surrounded by luxury in a home I was not allowed to touch (apparently the oils in our hands will disintegrate the whole house). I was raised by an au pair (who I thank to this day for making me normal). I was taught to love things and people *with* things. I was taught that I was to marry someone in the same religious, financial, racial, and political background as I (aka them). I wore what they wanted me to wear. I cut my hair how she wanted it cut. I studied what she wanted me to study. I went to University close to our home because I knew it was what she wanted. Finally, however, I decided to make a change, simply because deep down I am not that person. I tried to be an asshole, I really did. I wore Lacoste and tried to like the boys I was supposed to like. It really didn't work at all. I want to learn the things I want to learn, love who I want to love and speak how I want to speak. Narcissists do not like these things, and have caused the inevitable crumbling that has taken place.

Fast forward through all of the drama I will take time to disclose as I am reminded of it through the upcoming months, I am now NOT in that wealthy city, not provided with a single dime from their estate, in a home filled with loving people who are helping me transition from traumatized to empowered. I am surrounded now (finally) by people I can hug and love and sometimes even curse in front of without threat of reprimand. If they have two, they find a way to give me three. I am now married to one of these people. I am meeting and choosing to reach out to those I felt are/were genuine in my life, which sadly is not many -- I suppose this is primarily because I was surrounded my whole life by people who were also driven by the love of money and their grandiose selves.

I am no longer on the short leash with the choke collar I've been on my whole life. I am finally emerging from the cloud of confusion and feelings of self deprecation and shame. However, I am in the period where I accidentally reflect on a memory and fall into the same feelings of shame all over again. I still feel like a hurt puppy with no say in my life's pathway.

That's all going to change, and I hope you take the time to continue your recovery with me. I want to hear your stories. I hope we can find a way to acknowledge and confront that we truly were victims. For too long I've been carrying the guilt of not having the family I wanted. It is my turn to live a happy life.