Happy New Year!

This is the first New Year's Eve in a long time that I feel like celebrating.  I had lovely visits with my sister and my kids over the Christmas break, and now I'm ready to really focus my attentions on ME!  I'm set up to weave again, I'm ready to write again, I'm going to buy myself a keyboard and finally learn to play piano, I'm going to find a local person who can teach me how to work in glass, and I'm going to work hard to get better at the local language.  I plan to travel to the States at least twice this year - and I'm going to lose at least one more size in the next few months - hurrah!  I feel like I finally have the emotional and physical energy to move forward, to be who I am in front of the world without fear or anxiety.  This is nice!   It feels good to be invested in life again instead of just treading water.  Life is good.  Happy New Year, everyone! 

What now??

Everyone's gone for a few hours - I do love having my kids here and my daughter's boyfriend is a lovely, easy guest.  It's been busy - lots of meals to make, things to do, etc., and now I'm here alone for a bit, wondering what it is that I'm supposed to do next.  I've worked and/or taken care of my spouse for the past 12 years and that part of my life is over...  What now???  It's a bit daunting to think about this next chapter - I'm in a foreign country, where I'll have to stay for a good bit now.  I can't afford full-time care for my spouse in the US.  Now at least I'll have time and energy to work on learning the language!  I've always been involved in "helping" professions - I don't think I want to do that anymore...  That sounds awful, but honestly, I'd like to do something now that uses other gifts.  I want to finally do what I want to do - but I don't know what that is!!!  I'm trying to be patient, to give myself time to figure it out, but I want to get going NOW - I feel like I've spent a huge part of my life not taking care of myself, not knowing what I wanted, that I want to get on with it!  Sigh...  

Red-haired stepchild

So, have I mentioned that I feel like God's red-haired stepchild?  First I get 2 flaming narcissists as parents, people so self-absorbed and so phenomenally obsessed with each other that the numerous children they brought into the world were mere white noise in their lives.  Then I marry a passive-aggressive in an attempt to NOT marry a narcissist - aack.  Thankfully, many wonderful people have also entered my life - 2 delightful children, now adults; good friends who keep in touch and don't judge me for placing my spouse in a nursing home when the dementia/passive-aggressive one-two punch threatened to overwhelm me; and a wonderful sibling who's walked me through this discovery process over the past few years.

I want a do-over!  I want real parents, people who put their children's welfare ahead of their own.  I want to have known in my teens what I know now. I want to go back and choose a spouse who had the capacity to have a loving, intimate relationship with me.  I want all those hours wasted on "working" on relationships back.  I want to plan my life again, knowing that my thoughts, feelings, and needs are valid and should be considered when making life decisions.  I realize this anger is belated, but it's still valid - I want a sit-down with God about what He/She was thinking... 

Whiling away the time

It's very odd to have so much time to do whatever I want to do - and a lot of the time right now, that's just plain old nothing.  I walk a lot, read a good bit, watch movies, go to the mineral baths, have lunch with friends, and just let whatever is happening deep inside work its way into my consciousness.  This is sooooooo new for me that it's sometimes unsettling - but I'm determined to let this happen, to allow myself time to heal, to stop being so busy taking care of others that I forget that I am important, too. It's almost time to start writing again - but not just yet, I think... 

I feel much more centered, much more like I actually belong on the planet and have a right to be here.  I don't have to watch what I say for fear of attack (because I don't really care what N's say or think about me anymore), and I don't have to use a facade of toughness to manage myself in the world - I'm free to say what I need to say and to walk away if I don't think the argument is worth it (which it never is with an N...).  Life is so much better, so much calmer, and I finally feel like I'm in charge of my own life.  I've had glimmers of this before, but it's regular now, an everyday feeling  Ah! 

I'm sure there will be further struggles, but mostly I stay away from N's, and when I do have contact with them, it's fleeting - I'm not interested in dealing with them on a regular basis.  My life, my choice.  Goodness!  I imagine there are people in the world who've always felt like this - what a blessing!  But I'm glad that my Third Age will be indeed be mine, that I'll surround myself with people who love me and whom I love, that the choices I make will be made freely, with my needs recognized as well as the needs of others, and that I'll stay firmed planted on the Earth until it's time for me to leave- please God, I'll have time to enjoy this wonderful life for a while!

Mulling

I've been thinking about starting another blog - one about living with a passive-aggressive spouse.  I've looked and looked and can find few blogs about this topic, and the ones I have found are authored by life coaches and psychologists - and there's certainly nothing wrong with that, but my experience has been that those who have gone through living with a personality-disordered person are much more likely to understand it on the cellular level.  And that's what I need and want - real input from real people who've been through the real thing.

Then I realized that many of us who were raised by N's married people who were in some way familiar - we weren't worthy of true love, we'd been conditioned to take care of people, we didn't expect anything from relationships except hurt and pain.  And there you have it - the passive-aggressive is the perfect choice for someone with those criteria!  Like N's, passive-aggressives don't show their true colors at first - in my case, things were going pretty well until the children arrived (OK, I had by then realized that he wasn't at all in touch with his emotions, that he had to have his own way or he'd go even more silent and pout, and that he didn't seem to like women.  Hmph.  After being raised by wolves, this wasn't all that bad....)  But after the children were born, he seemed to feel that they were competition for him - mostly, I think, because I was no longer HIS mother - I was THEIR mother.

Our arguments generally revolved around him appearing to believe I was his mother - I was to take care of him, interpret life for him, identify his feelings for him, etc.  My most frequent line was, "I am NOT your mother!"   But he, unfortunately, became his father, a textbook example of a passive-aggressive.  And I stayed for decades with a man who just honestly  could not express or receive love, whose idea of intimacy was hand-holding - and even that appeared to be "dangerous" at times- whose only real emotions seem to be simmering anger and "blankness" (I'm not sure that qualifies as an emotion, but it's certainly one of his states of being...).

All this to say that having been raised by narcissists, OF COURSE I married a passive-aggressive!  He didn't rage, did he?  He seemed to be a deep thinker - this turned out not to be true - he was often just pouting or blank...  Aack.  My young self was pretty stupid (I know, I know - "conditioned"), but my mature self stayed and kept hoping that he could change, that he could start to actually feel emotions other than this simmering anger, that he might some day love me - sound familiar???  And the very saddest thing?  I still love him - or perhaps I love the idea of what might have been if he had been brave enough to actually look at himself and realize that life offered so much more than this perpetual need to be loved by his mother/mother substitute.

So I'm going to continue here - it seems all of a piece.  If you've been reading this blog, you know that my spouse is now in care - the perfect storm of dementia and passive-aggressive behavior became way too much for me to deal with.  Since he can't listen to me, but often does the exact opposite of what I say,  I can no longer keep him safe in the world.     I had a homebirth, I homeschooled, and I'd anticipated home care for him until he dies - but both disorders are getting worse and worse.  Not surprisingly, I suppose, since he's left our home, my stress levels have gone way down, I'm more relaxed and happier than I've ever been, and I'm loving my life again.  I thought I'd feel guilty, but having worked through all the NFOO nonsense, I'm not feeling guilty at all!  He made a lot of bad choices early on and could never gather the courage to change.  It's sad, but it can't be my sadness. 

It's been a ride!

My, my - it's been a ride!  These past 3 years have been a roller coaster of emotions; a frenzy of learning everything I can about dysfunctional families, narcissism, passive/aggressive personality disorder;  an in-depth study of how I've related to the world in the past and how I want to do that now.  Phew!  Am I finished?  Hardly!  Am I past the worst of it?  I certainly hope so!

I'm feeling more comfortable in my own skin.  The anxiety is waning more than waxing.  I've "lost" some people I'd thought were friends but only on their terms, with me doing most of the "connecting," but I have some lovely new friends who nurture me and care for me as much as I do them.  And the lovely old friends who stay connected with me are a true blessing.

I find myself being less concerned about other people's attitudes to me- just as I'm trying to rein in my overly developed need to care for folks who aren't connected to me.   I'm a free agent in the world!  And it's lovely - very freeing.  I have time - not just because my spouse is in care, but also because my brain is no longer full of "should's" and old messages from Nmother about myself and the world.  Her voice has been quieted - what a relief!

Now I know that this is a bit easier for me than for most ACON's because I live on a different continent than my NFOO.  Going NC was bit easier, too, but given that I have 8 siblings, the "easy" part is balanced out with sheer numbers!  Like I say, it's been a ride!  I know there's still work to do - and there probably always will be - but I feel like I'm ready, finally, to be who I was meant to be, to live my own life, to be my own person, to dream my own dreams and do my own thing - hurrah!!!

I want to focus on other things now, but I want to thank all of you who've responded to this blog and whose blogs I've read intensely to figure out how to live free!  I've learned so much from you who've gone before and were willing to share all that you learned.   Without you, this journey would have been waaaaaaaaaay longer.  I was blessed to have all of  you and one loving sister who made the journey with me, encouraging me and easing the way.  Gracias!!  Muchisimas gracias!

To Everything, There is a Season

My spouse, whom I love dearly, is passive/aggressive.  I've done work-arounds for years, compromised (or just gave in) more than was healthy for me, and learned that anything I wanted or needed would not/could not be given. " Come here, come here, come here, get away, get away, get away" was the catch-phrase of our lives together. Obviously, I'd been well trained in the NFOO to accept this type of treatment and to keep "working on the relationship."  Very one-sided "work" that took up a lot of the energy I should have been using on me.

I've asked him for years to get help, but he'd go to see someone for a couple of weeks and then stop - cured, apparently...  When I'd threaten to leave, he'd make some drastic changes that would last for a few weeks, then back to same-old, same-old.  Then the Parkinson's dementia started.  Oh, my goodness - it's a perfect storm!  He can't listen to me (In fact, he often does the opposite of what I ask), so I can't keep him safe.  I found myself always hyper-alert because I had no idea what he was going to do next.  I'd say the same thing over and over- and I didn't know which illness was in play at any given moment, but he couldn't listen.

Finally, I've conceded defeat.  He's in full-time care at a local nursing home.  He seems content - the people there adore him and expect nothing from him, so it works.  I'd made plans to go and see him tomorrow, but there's a football game on that he wants to watch.   It continues, but I'm no longer doing the dance.  Turn, turn, turn!

Not "fine"

Ah....  I can officially walk without thinking about my foot, the sinus infection that I'd thought at various times was an ear infection or a cracked tooth turned out to be just a severe sinus infection which is now on the wane due to lots of crazy medicine, and I have so much more energy due to both of these issues getting resolved.   Having been raised by N's and then being married to a p/a who has chronic and severe health issues has made me waaaaaaaaay too likely to ignore my own physical and emotional needs. I'm better, it turns out, at dealing with emotional issues now and have to work at the physical side of this.  Honestly.  I have to get over being "fine" if I'm really not. 

Therein lies the rub

So God and I need to have a long talk.   The NFOO into which I was born is riddled with personality disorders and mental illness.  I married a man with p/a personality disorder – compared to my NFOO, he looked normal…  Well, he didn’t rage, anyway…  Little did I know...  Having come to terms with all of this nonsense, I find myself facing the abyss.  Who am I, really?  What are my dreams, my wishes, my desires?  I’m dealing with adolescent questions about my identity in the Third Age.  How do I do this?  I’m trying to slow down, to deal with the anxiety instead of blocking it, to take deep breaths and listen to the world around me.  The anxiety is mostly gone – but I’ve had 2 panic attacks in the last few days and I think now it’s more about the future than the past –progress, but still scary.  I want my life to be meaningful – but I now have to define that differently than I did before.  I want to experience joy, love, excitement, pleasure – but I also want to care and be cared for, to love and be loved back, to give and be given to – the second part of those phrases has been missing to a large degree and

I feel like I’m missing some piece that makes these things possible.  An essential piece, a piece that makes real relationships possible…  I refuse to believe that I was born without that piece, but I do believe that it was taken from me early on in my life and I know that I have to somehow find it if I’m to find peace.   How do I do this?  How do I stop presenting a self to the world that is giving, caring, and loving without expecting anything in return?  I’ve stopped automatically jumping into caregiver status.  I now think through whether or not I have the time and energy to do something for others, and if I don’t, I hold back.  And surprisingly, I don’t feel selfish when I decide that I can’t give something.  (This, I think, is marvelous progress!!!) 

But I still feel unworthy, somehow, of having people help me.   It’s not like I haven’t needed help, but I’m terrified of asking for it – and I find that most people don’t have the crazy radar that I have that alerts them to people’s needs.  And a lot of the time, I guess because of the unworthiness factor, I don’t even KNOW I need help until after the time has passed and I’ve struggled through on my own.  Goodness, I was well trained to live in the NFOO – but not to live in the real world with real people.   

I’m open to any and all ideas, y’all!

Narcissism +

Sometimes it's not "just" a personality disorder - sometimes it's a personality disorder AND something else that makes life just that much crazier.  My spouse is passive-aggressive and I've struggled with that for a long time - add dementia and Pow! life is now much, much harder.  The narcissism in my NFOO is ridiculously complex because of the number of sibs I have - but I suspect that there is an underlying mental illness that exacerbates it and takes it to a level of craziness that makes one's head spin around.

The NFOO has taken it upon itself to deny even the mention of mental illness - even though my grandmother had electric shock treatments back when it wasn't the new, improved electric shock and my great-grandfather committed suicide.  There is OCD everywhere in the family, and I suspect that at least two sibs are dealing with undiagnosed bipolar disorder - it's sooooooo important to the NFOO to keep this undercover - there's a lot of nonsense in the NFOO about "good genes" - we don't have those kinds of illness - or any kind, for that matter!  Even though a number of sibs have autoimmune diseases, one sib has had cancer, a couple of us have PCOS, a family member has Type 1 Diabetes, another has a debilitating anxiety disorder, etc.  Nope, still good genes - and absolutely NO mental illness!!! Like we still live in an era where mental illness is viewed as possession or at least punishment for sin.  Really.

This explains so much that "just" narcissism doesn't -  the "poor WW" that's always baffled me, the unwillingness of NFOO members to look at the complete fabrications that issue from the mouth of the WWW, the hysteria that drives the NFOO.  Narcissism explains the roles in the NFOO - the Protector has her work cut out for her, dealing as she does with all the manic and depressive episodes of at least 2 of the sibs. The scapegoats were beaten into the ground and their characters completely annihilated during bipolar mania.  And the peacemaker - he has his work cut out for him!    And then there are the just plain N's - who are pieces of work unto themselves.

The confluence of narcissism and bipolar disorder creates a perfect storm - roles are locked in because of the narcissism, there are golden children who must be protected at all costs, even from themselves and knowledge of their mental illness, the no-talk rule is strictly enforced, the level of anxiety goes through the roof, and the scapegoats are shamed and degraded for wanting out of their roles.  But I am out - and there is unimaginable peace and calm because I'm finally free of the "family."  I sincerely hope that this is the last piece!

Failure to Properly Greet

"Failure to properly greet" the WWW and her Flying Monkeys was the crux of the issue when Danielle, my LD and I went to be with my mother while she was dying.  After driving 7 hours, staying overnight on a friend's apartment floor, flying halfway across the country, and then driving an additional 5 hours, we apparently did not greet family members with sufficient enthusiasm and thus the attacks began. This is so unbelievably common in my NFOO - stressful situation, let scapegoats make one "mistake" and then take them down.  Never, ever, ever, ever going to any sort of "family event" ever again - ever, ever, ever. Danielle and I are not going to Richard's wedding - we're meeting him and his new wife in a country close to where I live.  It'll be a one-day let's get together and celebrate your wedding kind of thing -  and so it goes in the NFOO!

Fantasy

I raised myself in the company of two of the nuttiest people ever to live.  Needless so say, my maturation was delayed (although I appeared older than my years from a young age) by lack of parental guidance - and worse, by strange and often perverse pseudo-parental messages.  Consumed by their obsession with each other,  finding fault with every other person on the planet, and believing that their progeny were there only to bring them glory, they were hardly the stuff of any child's fantasy- but they inspired me to fantasize about other parents, my "real" parents, who might just come and find me one day.  (I've mentioned in a previous post that the WWW often told me that I had been adopted - difficult to believe since I looked so much like Nfather, but a child can hope...)

So I fantasized the perfect parents - and it turns out that they were a hard act to follow.   It's pretty clear that I was a significantly better parent than my parents - but the bar was remarkably low.  A chimpanzee is likely to be better at parenting than the Nparents were.  But the fantasy parents - they were good!  They held me on their laps, they tucked me in at night with stories and songs, they comforted me when I was sick instead of locking me in a room, they listened to how my day was, they made my favorite foods, they asked about who I was dating, they didn't call the police when I was out late, they told me I was pretty, they got to know my spouse, they liked my kids - you get the idea.  They were more real than my real parents were!  And I imagine that if they messed up, they apologized.  Goodness - they were never mean-spirited, they never had a bad day, they never raised their voice or became impatient.  See???   A hard act to follow.

But it gets worse - I saw a train wreck of a marriage, so I fantasized the perfect marriage.  I never saw decent grandparenting, so I fantasized that, too - the whole array of human relationships was created in my head and I had to live up to some really remarkable expectations! I wonder if all N's did this to survive living in so much dysfunction.  I remember driving in the car as a child and looking into windows and wondering if those people were happy and how "happy" looked.  I didn't go to other children's homes very often - we weren't allowed to bring people home, so I could never ask anyone back.  (And really, it was too scary, too - the Nparents were a bit volatile and Nmother couldn't tolerate having her house messed up by children - or anyone else, for that matter.)  The more I write about this, the more I wonder how I survived these people at all!

Fantasy helped me survive - but it also kept me in the mess longer than was good for me - I fantasized that it was possible to have real relationships with my Nparents, with my Nsibs, even with some of my sibs who aren't N's, but struggle also, I think, with fantasy.  Let's  all pretend that.....  we're close.....  we're a normal family.....  any of us got out unscathed....
it wasn't so bad...   only some of us were "hurt" by the family...   being horrible to each other is normal...  bullying doesn't exist in our family...  Nfather was the only problem....  Nmother was a saint.... Nmother was a victim of the abusive Nfather...  This could go on forever - family mythology is strong and when you give it up, you're an outcast.   This is one thing I think I'm at the end of, finally -  there is nothing to go back to.  I have one sister,  a couple of friends with whom I need pretty strong boundaries, and a lot of scarey aquaintences.

Invisibility

Invisibility is one of my superpowers.  My friends called me out on it in college - I could be at a party and no one would remember seeing me there.  Good thing I never needed an alibi...  They asked me how I did that - and I wasn't sure then, but I know now.  Part of the answer is that I'm an introvert - a loud introvert, but still an introvert.  Parties with lots of people I don't know are anathema to me, and I tend to get lost in my head a good bit.  But a bigger part is that I'd learned early that standing out, being visible to Nparents was NOT in my best interests.  If I wanted any sort of life at all, any space to think and dream, I had to stay under their radar.  I watched and waited for the chance to escape their constant needs - I hid in the attic, in an old barn near our house, in trees, in fields, in neighbor's houses, by the river, wherever I could.  I hid in books, in schoolwork, in school activities.  And finally, I could escape in plain site.  They just did not see me.  It's a truly amazing superpower, but one I need to get rid of...  The invisibility cloak is no longer working in my favor.

This skill is more easily used with N's - they tend not to see anyone else unless they need Nsupply.  And with so many sibs, Nsupply was always close at hand - one child gone missing wasn't terribly noticeable.  After the Nparents separated in their 80's, Danielle and I were the only two people who talked to Nfather - he'd burned many a bridge...  At one point, I convinced my brothers that they should visit Nfather.  I went with them and the visit ranks as one of the most uncomfortable hours of my life - Nfather spent the entire hour recounting all the wrongs done to him in his life.  Honestly, he barely breathed between accusations.  I'd promised my brothers that we'd leave in an hour, so we got up and said our goodbyes at that point.  The next day, Nfather called me and told me that my brothers had visited him and that they hadn't spoken to him at all in the time they'd been there.  I told him that he hadn't shut up the whole time they'd been there and he asked me how I could possibly know that.  I reminded him that I'd been there as well and he said that that wasn't true, that I hadn't been there and why was I lying about that?  Honestly.  (I'd had him checked for dementia shortly before this, so it can't be blamed on that...) 

There were lots of other incidents in which I attempted to call him to accountability (see previous post) and he'd claim that I couldn't know something because I hadn't been there - and I had been there.   I once had an argument with Nmother in which she said, as a justification for not behaving in an equitable way, "I just didn't even think of you, (Pearl)." 

And such is the life of the Lost Child.  I learned not to ask for anything, not to demand acknowledgement even of my presence.  I've been working on this for a while- staying completely present, engaging in a wholehearted (and whole brained) way.  But old habits are hard to break - and I think this may be one reason that no one (except one dear friend and her granddaughter who do not go to my previous church) came to visit when I was home-bound.  I tend to do things behind the scenes (as introverts do), I've always helped out in small ways - cleaning up after dinners, coffee time, etc., serving on committees and doing work that others don't usually acknowledge - designing signs, business cards, flyers, designing and printing event  tickets, handing out maps, writing up the minutes, selecting tables and chairs, collecting money for events, making huge batches of food for events., etc.  Not exactly things that get one noticed, but things that needed doing.  But I think it's made me invisible there.  The Help.  Aack.

N = Lack of Accountability

CS got me thinking about N's lack of accountability.  I think that when defining the traits of narcissism, the very first trait listed must be lack of accountability, not taking responsibility for behavior.  I attempted for years of my life to call my Nfather to accountability - I begged, pleaded, yelled, cried, cajoled, demanded, all to no avail.  He couldn't admit anything he had ever done - his classic line was, "I never called you a son of a bitch, you son of a bitch."  Really. I remember that, as a young child, I conspired with a sibling to figure out a way to put Nfather's tape-to-tape recorder into the warming oven to capture the things he said during dinner, things that he would later deny having said.  Because we couldn't figure out how to plug it in without the cords being visible, the plan failed miserably - and just because there was evidence, it doesn't mean that he wouldn't have denied it, anyway. 

And this was a man who "hated a liar."  Yet if his lips were moving, he was lying.  The accusation of lying is the NFOO's  greatest character assassination.  Anything that is said contrary to the NFOO belief system is a "lie."  And that's that - hard to refute, because if you've just told a "lie", you are a "liar" and you can't be trusted.  It handily reinforces the "No Talk" rule - you may speak out, but since you're a liar, no one has to listen.  And the wheel turns...

Both of my Nparents are deceased - the death of my mother and the Nnonsense at her deathbed released me from the power of the NFOO.   I have Nsibs, but I've gone NC with 3 sibs and LC with 4 others.  I no longer have any desire to hold anyone accountable for anything except to honor the boundaries that I've at long last erected to protect myself from Nnonsense.  Calling me a liar or explaining to me that my "perception" of events is invalid no longer has the power to hurt or confuse me.  People raised by Nparents hold strongly to role-related interpretations of the NFOO - I get that now and if they want to hold tightly to that, it's their prerogative, just as it's mine to abdicate my role and live a full, rich life, free of my dreadful role.

When I write about progress, it sounds easy - it's not.  Every step has been filled with hurt, anger, sometimes despair, tears, grief, longing, and finally something that looks like peace.  And then it's on to the next piece...  I'm getting better at not giving in to despair, at realizing that there will be an end point, at knowing that I'm getting stronger and more resilient, at accepting who I really am separate from my NFOO-given role.  It's quite a process and I'm glad that I'm finally, finally, getting comfortable in my own skin, feeling like I belong in the world. 

No more crutches!

Got the OK today from the doctor today to lose the crutches - well, except if my foot hurts.  I can live with that.  I'm supposed to go slow (difficult) and build up to walking a lot.  Being somewhat impatient, I was really hoping for some long river walks, but I'm waiting, I'm waiting.  But I can get up to answer the phone, I can go to the kitchen to get a drink of water without giving it a lot of thought, I can take a shower without dread, and I can put things away without using the wheelchair.  I'm going grocery shopping tomorrow!  I find myself standing on one leg, doing the weird limp thingy that you do on crutches, and I look around for the crutches before I get up.  This will pass - and, as a good friend told me, I may even forget which foot I broke at some point...  That would be nice. 

I have to spend some time mulling the care issue - why am I not help-able?  Are the people right who say that our culture is getting increasingly narcissistic and very few people help anymore?  Or is it that there are Helpers and Others (or Givers and Takers) and being a Helper doesn't qualify you for help?  Or am I in a particularly unhelpful community?  Why am I invisible to the church like I was to my NFOO?  Right now, I feel like God's red-haired stepchild and it's uncomfortable and sad. 

Caring 101

I think the next step in recovering who I am is to figure out why I am the kind of person that people don't feel the need to take care of. (That was a bit convoluted.)  I've already mentioned that no one from my church has been to visit.  One person called, but said that we'd get together when I was better.  I've gotten that from a number of people - "Call when you're better and we'll go out for coffee."  Really???  Even people I consider good friends (and who know what's going on) haven't visited or called.  The old messages - that I'm not worthy of care or love, that I'm strong enough to manage on my own, that other people need care more than I do - keep resurfacing.  And then I look at my situation:
                   - I fell and broke a bone in my foot and foolishly hobbled around on it for a week before I had an x-ray.
                    - Then after the x-ray, I discovered that my hand was so badly bruised that I couldn't use the left crutch, so I hobbled around with one crutch, resulting in the bone shifting.
                    - I've spent the last 3 weeks with my foot up, or using both crutches (still with a lot of hand pain until this week) and a wheelchair to get around.  All this to avoid having surgery, which the doctor said is the next step if the bone shifts again.
                    - I live with a spouse with dementia - who has really tried to take care of me as much as he can.   He has difficulty walking, talking, swallowing, planning, standing for any length of time, etc.  He's in a daily care facility 3 days a week because I have to spend all of my time monitoring him when he's here.
                    - We haven't been to church for 6 weeks.
                    - The church we've been going to has a pastor who's into hospice and palliative care (important new concepts in a developing nation) and although I could have used some help (and company), I'm not, after all, dying.

So - I don't think my expectations are overwhelming - a visit, a call, a connection.   (The pastor called 4 weeks in and said to call him if I needed an errand run...)  Oh, and another person called when she got back to town and told me that we should get together when I was better.  Aack.  Now, I know that I have an aversion to telling people a lot about my life and that I don't ask for much because it wasn't acceptable in the NFOO to have needs.  And I think that I somehow come across as a person who is strong and capable and can handle everything herself - that was part of my role, to not have needs, to handle things, to manage...  I really don't want to be that person anymore.  I'm OK with being strong and capable - I've been dealing with a disabled spouse for a long time - but sometimes I need someone to help me out, too. 

The next step... As Gilda said, "It's always something."

P.S.  When someone in the NFOO did/does something nice for someone, they extract/ed a huge price for it.  I haven't accepted anything from anyone in my NFOO except from LS1 and W2 - with them, there's no weird payback expected. I think I'm really, really cautious about accepting anything from anyone - hmmmm....

Engulfing/distant Nmothers

I've been reading a lot of posts lately that were written by daughters of engulfing Nmothers - so different from my experience that it almost seems like a different personality disorder.  Although my NFOO was enmeshed to a ridiculous degree, Nmother was extremely distant, cold,  unattached to her children, and so obsessed with Nfather and his behavior that we were all a distant, distant, distant second.  The GC, of course, received a lot of attention, but we can hardly call that love and we all know what that attention led to...

I don't remember my mother ever telling me she loved me - until W1 decided to "model parenting" for her (when Nmother was in her 80's) and explained that she should say this to her children.  It was the weirdest thing - she said it, but it never went seemed to mean anything to her.  It was a bit like telling a child to apologize - the result is never quite right.  It was a bit off, like when a smile doesn't reach the eyes.

When I was in high school, I started to call Nmother the "Ice Queen"  - she really did have the lip-pursing, one eyebrow raised, stop you from across the room stare down.  The woman had 7 daughters and took no joy in them at all.  None.  She had to be the thinnest, the prettiest, the most elegant, the most sophisticated female in attendance.  Of course, she also had to be the quintessential farmer's wife, the most down-home of them all.  It created some distressing dissonance.  Who was she, really?  Which persona was going to be dominant in any given situation?  I don't think she could possibly teach any of us how to discover who we were - she'd never done it herself.

Her relationship with Nfather was perplexing to me - one minute, she was nobly defending him - he had a lot on his mind, he worked hard to support us.  And the next minute, she  was poring out all the things he had ever done wrong, blaming him for ruining her life, for not getting along with her family, for her not having a career, etc.  There was a time I remember when she'd talked for hours one night about how she couldn't take it any more, she was thinking of leaving him, she didn't know how she'd survive (Mind you, there was no mention of how her children were going to survive!).  The next morning I said something to her about Nfather and she slapped my face and told me that I should show some respect for my father.  Very confusing to a 15-year-old.  Those long talks around the kitchen table never revolved around my angst - they were always about hers. 

So "engulfing" she was not - she didn't hug or kiss anyone past babyhood - and even babyhood was foreshortened by the arrival of yet another sibling.  She spanked, slapped, shamed, belittled, and terrorized her children.  Her flip-flopping was epic - was she elegant or country?  was she pro-Nfather or anti-Nfather?  (This affected us a lot - her being pro-Nfather meant that she'd report all "bad" or "childish" behavior to Nfather so that he could abuse us.)  Every parental task was a visible hardship for her - she brushed our hair to the point of real pain, going shopping with her ranks amongst my worst memories, and even putting children to bed seemed to bring out the harpy in her.  From my point of view as a child, she wanted nothing more than to get away from us as quickly as possible.  (The irony of this is that when Ngrandmother left her money in her will and she could have left, she didn't.)

I've read enough and talked to enough ACON's to know that there's no such thing as a good Nmother, that the type doesn't matter - the problems are a bit different, but the root is the same and the result is the same.  Shaming is shaming, no matter how it's done.  Not loving is not loving, no matter if some Nmothers want to appear loving.  Their daughters end up feeling unloved, unwanted, shamed, blamed, angry, confused, and with a lot of shit to work through.  Here's to getting to and through that hard work!

Forbidden anger

Going NC with members of my NFOO was easy when I was really angry about the treatment I received at their hands.  And really feeling the anger was good for me - is good for me.  Anger in the NFOO was an emotion only for certain people - the rest of us were relegated to the territory of hurt, confusion, and sadness.  Anger was stuffed, ignored, verboten.  It was terrifying because of the way N's deal with their anger - rage, shaming, blaming, physical violence, threatening behavior, bullying, etc. My own anger was scary to me - and acting out of anger was part of my flea-ridden self.  Now that I'm more centered, anger isn't so scary anymore. I can acknowledge it and not feel the terror, confusion, and sadness that I used to feel in its presence - most of the time.

That doesn't mean I'm going to change the NC status of any of my NFOO members - boundaries are boundaries and some of my Nsibes just can't get that boundaries are actually good things...  But it's not anger anymore that's keeping NC in place - it's a way of taking care of me.  It's a way to make sure that I'm safe, that I'm in charge of my boundaries, that I can be who I'm supposed to be in the world, that I'm role-free.  This is wonderful because I don't want to be that very angry person that I was at the beginning of this process - mostly because that anger keeps me tied to them and I'm aching to be free of them,  of the role they so badly want me to play.  I want the joy and peace that being a member of the NFOO deprived me of, I want resilient boundaries, I want my very own life with realistic goals and crazy dreams, with loving, caring friends and family with their own strong boundaries.  I want to be able to argue with friends and family and not worry about destroying the relationship, I want to trust that those who say they love me actually have my best interests at heart as I do theirs - I want a normal, healthy life. 

And I know that I'm making progress because I no longer cry when I'm angry - talk about confused emotions!  For most of my life, I cried when I was angry and it confused me as well as other people. But it makes sense in terms of the NFOO. Anger was forbidden in the NFOO except for N's and their ilk.  So I'd hide it under tears.  See?  I'm not really angry - I'm just sad...  (Tears were forbidden as well, but were less awful than anger.  Sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils.)  Well, that's over.  Now I cry when I'm sad and don't cry when I'm angry - it's OK to feel it now.  Anger is a normal human emotion for everyone, not just those who use it as part of their manipulative repertoire. Anger's a useful emotion, but for N's, it's often the only tool in their emotional toolbox - and you can't build loving, caring relationships with just one tool.

And I 'm back

I'm back to being a public blog...  Someone I love was concerned and until she felt some peace about this being public, I took it down.  She'd actually told me to open it back up sooner, but I thought it wouldn't be amiss to give it some time. 

Hey All

Hey, All - I've temporarily moved the status of my blog to private. 

One more day

Everything - absolutely everything - has to be re-assessed in light of knowledge about narcissism.  The Nparents, the nsiblings, the various roles we all had and how that affects relationships from now on, the p/a spouse, the friends, the church - even God.  Seeing life through the haze created by narcissism is over - clarity is a bit overwhelming.  Embarrassment about not having seen this sooner comes up periodically and threatens to shut everything down, but so far I've gotten past that.  I can see why people get part way through this and pull back - it's hard and it's scary and I really hope that I get to the other side soon.  

So periodically I have to review - where I started, where I am now.  And I'm making progress.  I have much better boundaries with the NFOO, with friends, with my spouse, with the world generally.  I'm doing much less negative self-talk.  My anxiety level is way down, I'm taking better care of myself, I'm exploring who I was meant to be and how I'm going to achieve that.  I'm following through on things that are important to me, and I'm getting rid of things that are important to others, but aren't mine to do.  I'm living more in the day than in the past or future.  All in all, my life is better today than it was a year ago, so it makes sense to continue one more day.  One more  day - I can do that. 

Rant

OK, so this will possibly end up as a rant.  I've noticed that organizations of any sort-  corporate, educational, or religious - that use the expression, "We're family," often have the very same structure as a dysfunctional NFOO.  I've worked for some seriously dysfunctional schools and a massively dysfunctional financial corporation and I've been involved in at least one church that I couldn't wait to leave.  Now, I've also been involved in a couple of absolutely delightful, we're-family-in-the-real-sense-of-that-word, blessed churches that have fed my soul.  And I'm sure  you've guessed that this post is NOT about those two churches - but that sounds like a marvelous idea for another post...

The back story - I've been involved in the development of a new church.  My spouse and I were asked to be on the Planning Committee and agreed because we felt that we could be of use.  Before we joined, a pastor had been chosen who appeared to be a strong leader who laid out some basic rules for the committee that we were happy with - short meetings once a month, decisions by consensus, sticking to an agenda.  We are a group of people who have been involved with a number of denominations and we agreed that we would be tolerant and supportive of other people's beliefs.  And it worked for a while.  Then the pastor invited a woman to join us who had other ideas about how we should be - suddenly we were having twice a month meetings that went way over time, that included non-agenda items "because they're important," and decisions were made that were not arrived at by consensus.  We were discussing drapes and runners and all sorts of things that I consider superfluous in the creation of a church, and unilateral decisions were made about what ministries the church would be involved in.  I spoke up, but verbal support was lacking and I decided that perhaps I was the odd person out, so I should resign.  A dear soul on the committee asked me to reconsider and I did and that lasted for a bi, other people were verbalizing their concerns and ideas - but nothing really changed, and I resigned.  I'm still involved in smaller ways - bringing food for after service, counting the offering, helping form a support group for people who are caring for loved ones, taking food to people who are laid up, etc.

So - On June 4, I broke a bone in my foot (Yes, I'm still whining about that - it's a major annoyance...).  The pastor knows and I've emailed a few other people in the church.  My spouse and I haven't been to church now for 4 Sundays and I have not received one call or visit from anyone in the church.  Not one.  Not. One.  Because my husband is disabled and has dementia, and because I fell in a way that didn't allow me to use crutches for the first few weeks, there were a lot of things we really struggled with.  I've eaten more hamburgers (from a local restaurant) and fewer vegetables during the past month than a healthy diet allows.  Grocery shopping is impossible for me, so we had to hire a taxi driver to go with my spouse, shop with him, and bring him home.  I finally gave in and hired a woman to clean the house for the next few weeks - very hard to do on crutches!  I did manage to mop the floors while using a wheelchair - it was a workout, but the floors got clean.  Going anywhere with my spouse is a challenge at the best of times.  The city we live in has a good bus system, but my husband can no longer take the bus and when we walk, he has to be reminded to take long steps, to use his cane effectively, to lean forward on stairs (with my hand on his back to remind him another way), to watch for the hazards that litter our sidewalks, to look before he crosses the street.  He has to position himself carefully before he sits, he coughs a lot and has to be reminded to cover his mouth, etc. He can't carry anything because he's off balance and the cane rhythm gets thrown off.  So walking/correcting/reminding while trying to maneuver myself on crutches is well nigh impossible, so we haven't gotten out much. 

There's more, but you get the idea.  My NFOO ignored me when I was sick (or needed help) and now my church family is doing the same thing.  I haven't called and begged for help, but a number of people, including the pastor, know what happened in some amount of detail and I haven't been there for a month - a month!  And not one call.  My mother's idea of care when I was sick was to put me in a bedroom and close the door, providing only meals and never even coming in to ask how I was doing.  (This was her general level of care with all the sibs.)  And now I'm in a church that treats me the same way.  But this time I'm not waiting around - I've made some calls to find another church "family" that hopefully will use the word the way it's meant to be used - to provide support, care, and nurture to all of its people. 

End of rant. 

There be dragons!

I'm finally at a place where I can identify N's quickly  in person.  The predatory look is pretty much a dead giveaway. What they say and the look on their face or their actions don't match up.  As soon as I see it, I can strengthen boundaries and keep them out. Life is good.  Whew.  But online....  If we're only seeing words, if we can't match that with looks/actions, how can we tell who's who?  N's are sooooooo good with words - they're quintessential con men.  (I'm sure there's a gender neutral way of saying that, but I can't think what it might be...)  Some N's, of course, identify themselves even with their mean-spirited, abusive words - but since a lot of ACON's are flea-ridden before they begin to heal, it's sometimes difficult to sort out.   We ACON's can be a prickly lot and learning to set good boundaries takes a lot of practice. 

To admonish someone to be careful online is silly if you can't offer a way to be safe - and since I'm new to open blogging, I have little to offer by way of tips.  I'm really dependent on reading faces and body language - I learned that early. I'm one of those people who have to sit with her back to the wall so I can scan a room, always watching for danger, probably the result of being raised by abusive Nparents.   I've had a closed blog for a long time - not only to avoid Nstalkers, but also to give myself time to practice what I'm learning without some of the abusive commentary I've seen online.  Basic Nnonsense - cyber bullying, junior high stuff.  Really, people?  Name calling as adults? 

For those of us who are intuitive people, who read people primarily using facial expressions, voice tone and body language, the internet is fraught with peril - there be dragons!  And I'm really not sure how to deal with it - obviously, one has to avoid the bullies and they're easy enough to spot - anyone who calls a person who's been writing and helping people for years, who supports and encourages people, and whose writing is absolutely chock-full of research a "narcissistic" without any evidence thereof, is nothing short of a fool.  And we know the best way to deal with N's and fools - or foolish N's - is to completely ignore them.  I know that bloggers get slammed all the time for not publishing/not replying/not feeding the beast, but we KNOW that we have to ignore them in real life - should we treat them differently on the internet?   Why give them more credence because they're behind the curtain rather than right in front of us?  And why can't the rules of blogging take into account that some responders are narcissists and they are decidedly NOT our audience?  I say we should go NC with all internet N's- don't give them air time on our blogs, don't respond in any way - don't invite them in.  Period.

Schadenfreude Harm-Joy

Just when I think I've read everything I can read about Narcissism and that I've finally grasped it, I come upon another blog or book or article  that makes me aware of yet another aspect of it - or at least, that makes me aware of how that piece fits into my life with N's.  From the time I went away to college, Nmother would send me clippings from the local newspaper giving me information about tragedies - deaths, fires, traffic accidents, etc.  It was somewhat discombobulating to open a letter (which had been copied and sent to all sibs living away from home) and see news of the latest catastrophe, which had often happened to people I didn't even know.  I'd explain in a return letter that I didn't know that person and in the next letter, she'd add a handwritten footnote about who they were. This  always confused me.  At first, I thought it was an attempt to keep me in touch with my hometown - but who'd want to go back to so much disaster??  And Nmother had no friends that I know of - she would write to people from her past sometimes, but I never met those people.  So why were these stories so important to her?  I think it was Schadenfreude- somehow, her life looked better if there was a lot of suffering around her. 
She was an inveterate gossip, but she only had her children to gossip with - we heard every bad thing about anyone who'd ever been in her life - or ours. The only person about whom she didn't have anything bad to say was her father - she thought he'd hung the moon, as Southerners say.  I remember telling her once about a college friend who'd joined the convent in high school to get away from sexual abuse - and she looked at me and asked,  with her lips pursed, "And do you believe her?"  It kind of freaked me out.  She was such a strange woman...

Patterns post from Gale Warnings

OK, so broke a bone in my foot 2 1/2 weeks ago and it's given me a chance to do some reading online.  I've been re-reading a good bit of Kathy Krajco's blog "What Makes Narcissists Tick" - the woman was brilliant!  So I came across a link that she gave in one of her posts from a blog entitled "Gale Warning" - it's about behavior patterns and what we need to be looking for - and why we often didn't see it for a long time - great article and now I'm looking forward to reading more of that blog...  It's listed on the sidebar - the article on patterns is from February 17, 2007.  The last post on the blog was June 15, 2011- I hope that means that she's moved on and is living an N-free and wonderful life!!! 

Temptation

There is a terrible longing to have this over with, to "get on with it", to push it down again, to bury the pain once more, to go into my head and not feel the ache anymore.  It's like most grief - it sneaks up on me when I least suspect it and washes over me like a wave, leaving a vague sadness in its wake.  The wave doesn't knock me over anymore and the sadness feels more like an ache than a stabbing pain, so I know that I'm moving in the right direction, but when will it end?  Fifteen years ago, a dear friend died and I remember the horrible grief that I thought would never end - it did, of course, and when I think of my friend now, it's with smiles tinged with sadness.  I still miss her, the kind of back door friend who chats while making yeast rolls for dinner.  I know that grief wanes and I know that I can't speed up the process - and I also know that if I walk through this with courage, I'll come out on the other side stronger and with a chance at joy. 

The Thing with Feathers

Hope is almost a disease with some ACON's.  For years, I hoped that the NFOO would survive intact, that my sibs might be able to understand me and maybe even love me, that my Nparents would sit up and take notice that they had lots of children and grandchildren who needed parents and grandparents who weren't so obsessed with each other that they couldn't actually see anyone else. I hoped that we could all support each other and care for each other without all the sniping and backbiting and fear that's inherent in most NFOO's.  Years and years of hope - and finally, no more.  The thing with feathers died.

I don't mean to imply that all hope is bad - I hope for full, healthy lives for the people I love and care for (and even for my Nsibs), for a world that cares for those who need help, for so much - but no longer for anything from my NFOO.  Somehow the NFOO myths became my responsibility - I was supposed to resurrect dead relationships, I was supposed to reach out, I was supposed to go to family events where I could be abused, I was supposed to act lovingly when I was rejected, etc.  And Nmyths are powerful - they've sucked the life out of me long enough and I'm done with them.  There IS no hope for the NFOO - at least, none that I have to take responsibility for - I no longer have expectations that I can have healthy relationships with most of my sibs.  Not only is that expectation gone, but the desire is finally gone as well.  Why on earth did I think that anything good could come from attempting relationship with people who so obviously don't want a relationship that's based on anything other than the assigned family roles?  Their roles may be working at some level for them, but mine no longer works for me, so Adios!  I'm out of hope and out of this crazy NFOO.

So who's left?  There's LS1, with whom I have a real relationship- I'm calling her Danielle from now on.  (Not her real name, of course.)  There's MW, with whom I'm trying to have an even-even relationship - we'll see how that goes -I'm calling her Greta from now on.  And there's W2, whom I love dearly, but who's in a relationship with someone I don't think I can trust - boundaries being phenomenally porous in the NFOO, I don't think I can share much of my life with him without it being passed on to the Nsibs through his overly sharing fiance.  Alas. (He's going by Richard from now on.) If you've been reading all along, you'll have noticed that I'm 2 more down - and both of these sibs I'd considered LS's!  Wow. (They're now N1 and N2.)  And there was that silly hope again - they seemed open to a relationship, they'd both been burned by the WWW and her monkeys, but a trauma bond wasn't enough...   This learning curve is just way too long...  Dear Lord, I hope I'm near the end of it!!!!

Shame on you!

Shame is just an amazing phenomenon.  A conversation with LS1 tonight brought up the issue of shame in the NFOO.  When I was in high school, I drove to the town bus stop to pick up LS1, who was coming home from college.  Having stayed up the night before to study for exams, and having foolishly taken NoDoze to stay awake, I drove directly into a telephone pole.  I got home and expected that Nfather would explode with rage, but he didn't - he actually said that mistakes happen.  This was so very out of character for my rage-aholic Nfather that I spent the night waiting for the %#% to hit the fan, but it didn't.  A couple of months later, as I was driving the car out of the garage, the overhead door came down on top of the car.  Both the door and the car suffered minor damage.  Nfather acted as if the world was going to come to an end because of this accident, going into full rage mode.  It made no sense to me and I remember mulling this over for a long time.  If I'd known then what I know now it would have made perfect sense.  The first accident had nothing to do with him - I had been sleep-deprived and drove unsafely.  Thankfully, no one was hurt because of my adolescent stupidity. The second "accident" could, however, have been laid at Nfather's feet.  We'd all told him a number of times that the door hadn't been working correctly and that it needed fixing.  Therefore, he reacted with rage out of shame - shame that he hadn't taken care of something that he should have fixed.  That shame had to be dumped on me, since that's what N's do - deflect, deflect, deflect.  And he deflected stupendously!

For those of us who were trained to be supply, to be servers, this was sooooo confusing.  I was conditioned to believe that I had to fix whatever was wrong in the NFOO, but shame-dumping rages can't be fixed by anyone except the N (and then only with years of intensive counseling by someone who truly understands narcissism).  The rages that appeared to come out of nowhere were no one's fault except the N's - there really is nothing in the world that could possibly justify raging at one's family the way Nfather did - it was absolutely terrifying to young children and adolescents. It's no wonder we all walked on eggshells and were willing to take the blame for so much that had nothing to do with us - it's somehow better to do that than to believe that behavior has no obvious cause, that strong feelings can erupt into erratic behavior at any moment, that the world is a dangerously arbitrary place.

I have no memory of Nmother being involved in either of these situations, although she rarely left the house.  I think I need to write this after every memory that I share because I have to get in my very bones that she never stepped in to help me or most of my other sibs.

Giant Step

Well, I've taken the plunge - this is now a public blog.  Caliban's sister encouraged me, and I think that it's time to be out there.  I read through all the blog posts, adding updates when I thought they were necessary.  This is a huge step for me - growing up in a ridiculously dysfunctional family meant that there was a No Talk rule that was strictly enforced.  (I'm sure most of you can relate.)  There was absolutely no privacy at all in the NFOO - letters were read (out-going and in-coming), diaries were considered public property, rooms were searched.  All communication was monitored  - we were Soviet Russia in microcosm.  What an absurd way to live.  Breaking the No Talk rule was a serious offense and was dealt with harshly - gaslighting, rage, beatings, the whole works.  So this is a giant step forward, getting rid of the fear of speaking out, the fear of punishment at the hands of N's - no longer beatings, but character assassination, gossip, lies, and general craziness.  Whew!  One giant step for Pearl!