Hello my friends. My most recent post was about how traumatized daughters of narcissist parents grow up carrying the mental load. Today I'll give some examples, related to the holidays and other situations in which we daughters take on everyone else's burdens, into adulthood. Actually, I say situations, but it's not situational. It's constant. We can't not get out of the fix-it role.
Take Christmas for example. How many years I coordinated it all: decorations, cookies, homeschooling activities, food prep, gift buying, wrapping, party planning, hosting, getting to church, planning the church pageant, delivering cookie trays, caroling, going to the nursing home, getting kids' costumes, navigating guests, juggling, making cards, prepare food baskets, get Giving Tree gifts, writing the letter, mailing, get up at the ass crack of dawn to open presents (while he laid in bed and complained about how early it was) set up, tear down. And all I heard was whining when it was time to take the tree down. That I did alone. He had one job and even that I didn't expect of him: get me a present. And he waited till the last minute and then had to go off "on his own" (meaning leaving all the kids with me, AGAIN) to get something I didn't even want. By Jan. 12 I was sick with exhaustion.
And I don't even have a selfish husband. I have just taken on the mental load since day one of the relationship. I never put my foot down except to go and do whatever thing I was expected to do. I felt guilty because in this Wonderland I created, one thing wasn't to specs. Because I have lived all my life jumping through narcissist parent hoops that always moved just when I got it right.
And I taught my husband what to expect. When he can't find something in the house he has lived in for 25 years and which is not that big, he yells to ask me where it is. If I say I don't know, he gets mad. Because "things are always moving." On their own volition. It seems we have a poltergeist. When he can't find something in the fridge (because he has what I call layer blindness. He can only see the first row because he is too lazy to actually look behind the ketchup bottle. So he calls me. To look at the same thing he's seeing. And the funny thing is, I always know where it is. Unless he has put it back wrong.
And even then I can find it. I have to in order to, wait for it, keep that illusory peace. Which is no peace at all. Because he feels stupid (as well he should) but takes it out on me. If I suggest he look he accuses the foods of moving. If I say no, he gets mad. If I suggest he look, he accuses me of patronizing him. So one way or another, he gets me to do his work. This is the end game of weaponized incompetence.
And we laugh but it's not really funny. It's debilitating to me. I have all these voices in my head already, that are memories of narcissistic parent nonsense about how I'm too selfish, lazy, sensitive, Should be more responsible, yada yada. So when I sense tension, I'm hypervigilant to stave it off. All my anxieties, placating, soothing and people pleasing goes into overdrive. AND THEY KNOW THIS. That's why they do it. To trigger me into rushing to fix. They might as well come right out and say "you'd better give us what we want or you'll suffer."
So the tricky part for me, is to call their collective bluff. To do the unthinkable and say "no." To ignore their demands of help with things they don't need help with. To not hear the pouting. To turn a deaf ear to their bleating complaints. And, the hardest part of all, for me, to not get activated when they get mad. To not accept the blame they are shifting onto me. To set boundaries for myself and honor them. To not let them get to me. To stand firm so I don't fall for anything.
To do this, I have to let myself imagine, what is the worst they can do? This part has been terrifying to the point of crippling for me. My narcissist parents and their narcissist new spouses had this way of inflicting nauseating fear into me, from childhood. They made me believe that the worst they could do was so bad that I shouldn't dare contemplate. Bullying cowards are like that.
I have to laugh at this new aphorism thingy you read on people's T-shirt's about "Faith Over Fear." AS IF I could ever show no fear. Chance would be fine thing. All this "courage" would have gotten me was more kicking. And when you grow being so bullied that you don't dare not be afraid, you're pretty screwed in adulthood.
But my husband, pointy-headed though he can be, at times, is not a bully. He is a decent, loving person who struggles with a lot of shame and self-doubt. Which I probably trigger in him, just by being in his life. Not my fault. Just how it is. So I can actually talk back to the voices in my head and ask what's the worst he would do? Find the cheese for himself? Sure he might be annoyed. But chances are good that it's not me but himself he's annoyed with.
And as for Christmas. What's the worst that can happen if I refuse to do this or that? It doesn't get done or someone else does it. What would happen if I told whomever was asking me about holiday plans, to ask my husband? They would or wouldn't. If they got angry, we'd all survive. What if I said no, you can't go to the store at the last minute leaving me with everything. He'd pick a fight or he'd comply. Or the everything else wouldn't get done.
But one thing for sure that will happen is that I will get healthier. Because I will not be at the mercy of someone else's demands. I will begin to feel less FOG (fear, obligation and guilt). I will begin to make choices about what I do and don't do, instead of letting others call the shots for me. If I makes mistakes or get it wrong, so what? Everyone does. And I'll have a much better chance at getting it right, listening to my own inner wisdom rather than someone else's self-serving domineering.
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