I’m the strong one in our relationship, just admit it.
No matter the hateful, violent words you say, I’m right here with “I love you no matter what,” and “you are an amazing boyfriend.”
The minute that you catch a hint of me being upset, you run the other way.
I don’t yell or say nasty things like you, yet you don’t know how to handle me? Am I so terrible? You don’t have to deal with my anger almost every day, yet I’m the bad person?
You just get to yell and scream whenever and to whoever that you want.
Who am I supposed to go to when I’m angry?
Oh that’s right.
No one.
Because you want me completely alone.
You want a fight? Well, good luck trying to break me bitch.
We had a meteorological anomaly occur here in Texas a couple of weeks ago. We had some arctic air from Canada push south and give us 77 degree (Fahrenheit) high temperatures in July. Now, up until then, I had never considered myself a fan of arctic air from Canada. Polar vortex, anyone? However, here in the swamps of East Texas, July generally brings with it highs in the upper 90s (Fahrenheit), and when you add in our humidity, that’s pretty rough.
Of course, the upper 90s are nothing compared to what we’ve been gifted with in August and September here these last few years. Remember Tropical Storm Lee, that left most of Texas burning? Yeah, minus the fires, that kind of drought and heat is our normal August and September. So I generally don’t complain about the upper 90s in July, because as hot as that is, it ain’t nothing to a Texan.
So when we got that arctic Canadian air a couple of weeks ago, I got all happy. In the pants. I did the happy dance. My happy dance scared the neighbors, so I had to come inside and dance with my dog. Thank heaven she is used to me, and just wagged her tail because she knew that a treat would be forthcoming after I was dizzy from dancing with her.
Then the arctic air retreated back to Canada where it belongs, and we went back to business as usual. Until I saw something weird on twitter. One of the weather geeks I follow tweeted a picture of a map of the USA that showed east Texas in a blue blob next week. While 86F may not seem that cool to a lot of people, here in the swamps of East Texas, a forecast of 86F on August 1? Does not happen.
Except it just did. And it has me shopping for puppy treats so I can get my dog to do the happy dance with me.
I have been married for over 5 years. My husband is a good, kind man. But he doesn’t meet my needs in the ways I need. He is not super affectionate; he doesn’t tell me I’m pretty, he doesn’t flirt with me. He rarely comes to me for sex (though he’s not going elsewhere, either). He’s an extreme introvert, and a poor communicator. I’ve talked to him numerous times about what I need from him in those ways. He says he will try–and doesn’t. I still love him more than life.
For my job, I had to take an extended trip–three weeks with another co-worker. This co-worker told me on this trip that for the entire time I have been at my job, he has had an interest in me. That has grown into something a lot more. He is a good man–single, nice, funny, affectionate. He tells me I’m beautiful, I’m important. He flirts with me. He makes me feel alive. I didn’t have more than friendship feelings for him before, but that has exploded into something much more.
I kissed him at some point on the trip. I’m not sure why–I just got it into my head I wanted to. This wasn’t his intention–I know it wasn’t. We swore that was it–it was the elephant in the room, now it was over, we knew what it was like, and it was done.
But it wasn’t done.
We didn’t have sex, but we did practically everything else on this trip. It felt natural, and the chemistry was unlike anything I have ever experienced–not even with my husband. Since we’ve returned, nothing has happened, but we flirt. We talk about our next work trip. We text constantly. We hide it from everyone at work.
Now I’m in trouble. I love them both. My husband is comfortable and kind, respectable and smart. He cares for me. My co-worker is exciting, he communicates how he is feeling, he flirts, and tells me every chance he can how important I am to him. He struggles because he wants me in his arms, and hates that I can’t be there. He knows he wants more than I can give him, but he would never ask me for it.
I want them both. I love them both. I can’t imagine life without either. But one I have to hide, and the other I have to lie to. And you can’t have both.
How did I get into this mess? I am going to destroy three hearts with my own already split in two.
I’d always believed that my mother loved me and all her interference in my life was to make me better, stronger. Blindly, I trusted that she meant for me to be happy. But I also knew that … something was wrong. I never could do right by her and I just knew that something was wrong with me. She was inside my head, under my skin, causing me to drown. I lost my strength and discovered that I feared her.
These revelations took over a year – it was a whole process for me.
My life had fallen apart and I went to a specialized therapy clinic for help. There, I learned I was codependent. My therapist actually told me “you have a bad mother, you need to protect yourself from her.”
I was shocked.
I talked to my mother as I came out of the clinic and decided to break contact with her. Afterward, I felt so guilty and sunk into a very deep depression. I think I put all my energy into avoiding contact with her. I was stuck in bed, only leaving to go to therapy.
I couldn’t understand my mother’s attitude toward me. How could she be so crazy insensitive to what I was going through? I was obsessed with the question “why?” After seven months of therapy, I discovered that it was helpless to believe there was a way to save our relationship. I remember my therapist saying “no, I don’t think so. Any relationship with her, you’ll only get hurt.”
I cried so much. It was such a big loss. I finally understood how much she’d taken from me. How she enslaved me, took away everything I got, people that I loved. My mother had bullied me all of my life. The pain was indescribable; I was destroyed. Crying every day, having nightmares all night.
None of this made sense. I felt that she’d only rest once I’d killed myself. How could she be so awful to me? I did everything for her; gave her more than I had to give. Was it really just jealousy? Why? Why had she been so cruel to me? My therapist explained that she’s a narcissistic mother; she has narcissistic personality disorder. I was her extension. It was quite confusing so I turned to the internet for answers. I didn’t know what having a narcissistic mother meant.
There I found it. I understood the way I’d felt my whole life. I understood her attitude toward me.
I learned the tactics of psychological manipulation: invalidation, gaslighting, parentification, triangulation, narcissistic rage. Convincing me to do the opposite of what my gut said. Denying my needs.
I was deadly shocked for I don’t know, months? I haven’t really recovered. My symptoms increased, I developed panic disorder, my self-esteem melted, felt so insecure talking to people or making changes in my life.
For five months, I stopped dealing with it – it was just too much. I’m still unable to deal with anything or anyone. I feel lost, I’m afraid that I’m too damaged to be able to be happy. I’m paralyzed. I have no idea who I am.
I’m 40 and I lost my childhood, my innocence, my adult life. I am sick, depressed, lonely, and terrified.
I discovered The Band Back Together Project, for which I am very grateful. Thanks to reading your stories, I now know that I did the right thing in stopping contact to my mother. That was really killing me.
I can understand all the pain I’m feeling. How badly I’m grieving this loss. To top it off, I discovered that my father also has narcissistic personality disorder.
I’ve been badly abused all of my life. No wonder I’m unable to do what I want and need, how absolutely everybody in my life has abused me, why I can’t stand up for myself.
Knowing that I am not alone and understanding my symptoms gives me hope. I understand that I need treatment and support. I’ll return to therapy which I hope can help me to learn to feel angry, to defend myself, to stop feeling guilty all the time. To allow me to have things, a family, someone that treats me well. I hope I’ll never have abusers in my life again.
I wish I could see what life is like. Until now, I’ve never had a life of my own to lead; I was just a stupid toy, trying to please everyone for love and attention. I want to learn to respect myself and set clear emotional boundaries with other people.
The hardest part is to see how damaged I am. That’s really scary.
Thank you, Band Back Together for giving me the opportunity to speak out. I don’t need to be ashamed; I was abused, I am a victim. Thank you for showing me that.
Can you, The Band, share your stories about being an adult child of narcissistic parents?
I really want to believe this emotional trauma will end and I will, at long last, be free.
