Dear friends, I know I've written before about my very upside down inside up world. How everything was double standard two sets of rules. . But I'll have to keep writing to process just HOW inverted it was and how this inversion of reality ruined large parts of me. I know I need to practice self-care but when you've been shamed and punished for doing that, where do you begin? Here's how malignant narcissist parents destroy their child's sanity and groom them in self-destructive dissociative breaks with reality. Which the child then feels guilty and ashamed of having. They steal her self, causing horrible trauma responses and then blame her for having these terrible responses. They anger, frustrate, sabotage, irritate, trigger, exploit, target, bully harass, DARVO, shame, embarrass, scapegoat, gaslight and then shame her for acting upset.
I can't even think the word self without hearing my mom's and dad's pompous scolding about how I think too much about myself. How "we" are supposed to "die to self." (as they lived only for self, mind). And God forbid I ever suggested "self-care" or "self-confidence." Those they shot down as selfish. For me, that is. They were probably the most self-centered, arrogant, self-indulgent people I knew. They were utterly consumed with themselves. What they needed (or just wanted but called need), thought, felt, experienced were the only thing that mattered to them and it damn well better be the only thing that mattered to me.
They allowed their pride and self-absorption to rule everything for me as well as themselves. If they didn't feel like doing something, they pushed it on to me. And there was a lot they didn't feel like doing. They arrogantly took and took good things from others because they felt entitled to have things they didn't work to earn. They made ridiculously risky, dangerous, irresponsible, immoral, unethical, illegal choices that involved me. Usually, I was the only one to suffer any consequences. It's amazing how they managed to get away with so much. And this magical ability to sidestep any splashdown from their choices only emboldened them to make worse decisions.
They weren't childish, they were heedless. Feckless. Reckless. They didn't care who they hurt as long as they got what they wanted. They were so selfish that they couldn't or wouldn't see how they made everything revolve around them, as if they, not God, were the center of the universe. They forced and coerced me to play along with their narcissistic fantasy. So I did because I didn't know a better way and because it was dangerous not to. God knows it was dangerous enough even when I did play along. Rules changed all the time. So how does a kid even think about taking care of herself when survival itself is in question? It's about priorities and I had to prioritize them at my expense.
So now I have some very dysfunctional behaviors resulting from constant chaos and destabilization. I am always afraid because I always had to be. I still would have to be on guard if I had not gone no contact with them. So what are those odd behaviors. The list in endless and some I've written about before. But I keep discovering new ones I have to talk myself through. Here's what I found in the last few days.
Hypervigilant always. I'm always on patrol, en pointe, on my toes. I don't dare to relax because I'm afraid I'll do something awful or not prevent something awful from happening. I was overly regulated by parents who didn't regulate themselves. I was continually bossed around and ordered to do things I should not and could not have done. They coerced, bullied, lied, distorted and manipulated reality. There were so many ways to anger them. I now see that's because they were always pot-stirring. Their vanity made them spiteful, vicious and trouble-making. Now I wonder if my hypervigilance was as much to placate them and prevent them from feeling consequences, as it was to protect myself. Because it went beyond fear...
Abject unspeakable terror, always. Here's another thing I haven't figured out, how they managed to instill such horror in me that I still can't think about it without feeling physically ill. I don't even know what I was afraid of. Displeasing them, for sure frightened me. But since they were always affronted, offended and put out, no matter what I did, I assumed I must be one very rotten person. But if I was so rotten why I so preoccupied with keeping them happy, with protecting them? Rotten people only care about themselves.
Endless self-doubt and shame, always. I am continually auto-flagellating myself. I can't win for losing. I can't get it right, for failing. If something works out that I did it was an accident. If it doesn't, it is always my fault. I downplay and excuse horrible things done to me and exaggerate tiny mistakes I make into capital offenses. How do I know this? Because I'm able to overlook and exonerate other people when they do them, but I can't do that for me. This is the world of the scapegoat child. No winning, no breaking even, no one ever satisfied, damned if she does or doesn't.
Paralyzing confusion. Am I exaggerating about always being wrong? Yes and no, Yes, it's not true that a child is always wrong. But when she's made to feel like she is, it amounts to the same thing. And no, I'm not the one exaggerating. My narcissistic parents are. It's impossible for someone to be in the wrong all the time. It's also confusing as hell for the child who is trying to learn the right way to do things. How can you learn right from wrong, if you're never told you got it right? What you learn is to endlessly second guess yourself until you're so crippled by fear of failure that you become impotent.
Deathly fear of self-confidence. My (very vain) parents would criticize my every action they said, to keep my humble. They who were not at all humble. They said they were afraid I would "get conceited" if they praised me. And yet they expected copious amounts of praise to be lavished on them. So now I can hear the hypocrisy in all that but I couldn't then. I just absorbed and internalized it into a mush of self-loathing. I was terrified lest anything I do be seen as proud.
Easy target for bullies. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be scared of their own shadows. Take it from me, it's bloody dangerous and it victimizes and stigmatizes them. Predators can smell the craven fear you instilled in them. And being taught no self-care, no self-defense, no protective skills, being shamed that self-care was selfish, my God, you've just made us lambs to the slaughter. Well, that's the scapegoat for you. And worst of all, for me, my parents were the ones throwing me to the lions. For sport. As a scapegoat. So they wouldn't have to appease these unpleasable beasts. They allowed their new partners to treat me in any vile way they wished. They left me to the mercy of strangers and set me as servant to very unsafe people. They set me up, mocked, humiliated and ambushed me. Then attacked me for not be subservient enough. I was more tenderized than a Swiss steak. With all resources stripped and trampled boundaries, I am completely vulnerable. It's like I have no skin.
Can't stand criticism. Funnily enough, my dad, faulted me for this, saying "you can't handle criticism." But very often it wasn't "gentle reproof" it was sadistic humiliation, sucker punches, sneak attacks, insults and using me as whipping girl. I can't honestly recall one helpful bit of correction I received, just a lot of random gang-banging. So needless to say, all I learned was to crumble. But when my dad said that was mistaking me for himself. And while it's true I can't handle it, the reasons are diametrically different. My father resented any questioning of him, no matter how innocent. He felt he was above it all and certainly never heeded it. I can't stand criticism because I heard too much contradictory fault-finding it confused me. First one person said one thing and then when I did that, I was faulted for it. So I just kept rolling with the punches and getting more beaten down. Now when I'm corrected or scolded my instinct is to feel intense shame and cave in without any thought as to if they are correct or how I feel about it.
Bewildered by contradictory role models. Narcissistic parents are very much the "do as I say not as I do type." They make it up as they go, to suit their fantasy. They preached self-denial and lived self-indulgence. Too good for me wasn't good enough for them. I had too little so they could have too much. I gave, they stole. We were "poor" when it came to me needing a proper bed. But they were rich enough to afford riding lessons and saddles. When someone else did it, it was cheating. For them, it was "making friends" and "ministering to" a married man. Seriously. Everything was double standards. They were all over the place: preacher, vamp, teacher, pedophile, parent, bully, Christian, thief, moral right, pervert, child molester, scammer, pro-lifer who paid for a girl's abortion, foster care provider, child abuser, adulterer, youth group leader, whore (seriously my mom dressed as one for the church Halloween party). I'd have been so much better off raised by wolves. And what this taught me was to tolerate it all, say nothing, keep secrets and feel endless degradation and embarrassment, while protecting them but not myself.
Ashamed of self-defense . My parents had a retort for everything I did. A comeback for every defense I made for myself. I was to know that I was always the problem just because they said so. That I'd trespassed without me even knowing how. And yet if I asked or defended myself they scolded me for "talking back." Sassing and being "lippy" my mother called it. Well, maybe if I didn't have defend myself all the time, against their attacks, I wouldn't answer back. If they had been less antagonistic and disagreeable, if they had been fair and heard me out instead of just pointing finger and twisting everything to make me the bad guy. If they had been actual parents and not vicious bullies. If they'd spoken up for me, I'd not have had to speak up for myself. And funny, they were quick to "lip off" and answer back anyone who challenged them. So another rule just for me. But no matter, because I learned pretty quickly that if I didn't want a belt across the face to put up and shut up.
Scapegoat servitude . If his wife or her husband was pissy and they were always pissy, they'd find a way to make it my fault. He'd triangulate, pitting her against me. And she was more than willing to let him, being very narcissistic herself. Same with my mom and stepdad. I was smugly informed that I had let so and so down. No one ever took my part. And yet they all hated each other. Scapegoating and exploiting me was the only thing they agreed on. My dad would say "maybe Mary could help you feel better" (as if!) What a euphemism "help" was! She was invited to think of some way I could make it up to her for the way I'd let her down. (gaslight, DARVO) This usually involved some extra housework that she was too lazy to do. I never was told HOW I let anyone down or what I actually did. My conscience should prick and I should "just know." (translation, I didn't do anything. It was convenient to make me think I had. How else would he get her off his back?). So now, I've brought that scapegoat syndrome with me to adulthood. If anyone is upset with me, I immediately believe it's my fault. That I'm obligated by some sort of unspoken contract to "fix it." I never stop to wonder if they've brought it on themselves. I never question them, only me. But it's time I started doing so. Because I might find, that like all those times before, I was not to blame. And if I was, I could make my own choice about what to do or not do about it.
Shackled to ever-changing narcissistic bullshit. There was no winning. Not even for losing. If I cried because I was afraid to displease them, I was "too sensitive." Because my dad was putting his spin, how he would handle it, on me. He felt above reproach so he would have gotten bitter and resentful if faulted. So he assumed I was crying because I was pouting, or showing off or pitying myself. Which was what he always did. But I was just remorseful that I'd let them down. And a bit confused as to how. And then, remember, just before that, story was that I was too proud and haughty and couldn't handle criticism, which begs the question how could I be both? Either I was too conscientious or not enough. Either I took criticism too much to heart or not enough. Are you exhausted yet? Well buckle up because there's a lot more gaslighting to get through. So when I did anything for them, and I did a lot. Too much. There was always fault-finding. Some little non-existent speck I missed. Or I didn't have a big enough clown grin pasted on my face. Whatever. So I got in the habit of asking if I did it right. Knowing I did but also knowing how they'd find something to rip me over. And my dad would then say I was "fishing for compliments" and looking for a reward (tired facepalm). Well that pond ain't got no fish in it! And he'd cut his own tongue out before saying good job. And again, he'd say that I should "just know" and be quietly glad to have been of service. That service was its own reward. The fuck you say. So if you didn't get your paycheck you'd still go to work. So it was earth shattering if I didn't get clothes folded to specification but then dismissed as just my job if I did.
Periodic breaks with sanity. This is the coup de grace, the culmination of all of the above. All this kept me very small, silent, shell-shocked, baffled, dissociated, fractured, cult indoctrinated, brainwashed, brain fogged. I have terrible nightmares every night. My memory is permanently damaged by so much gaslighting and parent revisionist history. I trauma respond with every breath, even in sleep. I jump at every sound. I've tried to squash it down and mostly I succeed. I don't look quite the wreck I am. But sometimes it all explodes, when I least expect it. I'm starting to recognize an aura but mostly it hits me blindside. Sometimes people do or say things to provoke it, sometimes intentionally sometimes not. What I do is not pretty. People at their rawest are not. I've done and said terrible things in middle of the episode, panic attack whatever it is. I'm heartily sorry afterwards and feel so much shame. I vow never to do it again but since it's so ingrained by years of trauma and abuse, I don't know how to guard against it. And I was taught that self-defense and self-care were selfish. So there's that.
All my life, I realize, has been shaped by these crippling experiences. I've survived not thanks to but in spite of my narcissist parents' sabotaging efforts. Unfortunately it also took me a lifetime to see the harm, chaos and trauma for what it was. If I had seen it earlier or if someone had told me that what they did was wrong, if just one person had reached out, and not normalized it, I would have had a much healthier life. The terrible pain, depression, shame, anxiety and anguish would not have become so entrenched in my core. And I would not have developed such awful, counterintuitive, destructive trauma responses. The Bible says that the sins of the fathers shall be visited on the children. And so they are but in ways most people do not envisage. It's not the repeating of the wicked behaviors but the suffering from CONSEQUENCES OF them that are visited on the child.
