Tag: narcissistic

  • Without

    I often get the question; ‘What was it like growing up with your parents?’ – especially those who have read my story.

    Ill tell you. In a moment..

    Im just reading Oprah Winfrey and Bruce Perrys book ‘What Happened to you?’ in which they describe what it would be like to ask this question (as opposed to ‘whats wrong with you?) in regard to responding to situations of trauma in society – especially amongst some of the most judged in society (notably young people). It has given me much food for thought, especially in regard to youth/community practice, and ill share more on that on my other blog.

    But the book also touches on a personal level.

    So Ill give you a trigger warning, Emotional and Parental Abuse.

    There’s a beautiful story near the end of the book in which Oprah recalls a friend of hers cutting up a strawberry in the kitchen in which the friend delicates cuts up the strawberry for the daughter in the shape of a rose, and calls them rose strawberries, it is in this moment that Oprah thinks to herself:

    This is what a mothers love is

    Oprah Winfrey, 2021

    It is when Oprah sees the example of love that she realises what she didnt have, that she grew up ‘without’.

    Without a Mothers Love.

    I have written before about how growing up with psychopathic parents meant growing up Alone. It was also about growing up ‘Without’ .

    Yet it was a bizarrely hidden ‘without’ .

    It was a ‘without’ behind closed doors. Behind the doors of respectability that didnt include any of the so called ACES (adverse childhood experiences), it didnt involve moving houses, countries or cities, or being in care. It didnt involve divorce or unemployment.

    It was like existing without care, protection, love, nurture, support.

    It was without being seen, being visible.

    It was without being able to ask, for anything

    It was without.

    It meant learning to exist with a shield, strength shield of ‘learning to cope without’ or denying the need of any of these things.

    Which is why I sought refuge into my head. And pretending that everything was ok. That I was ok.

    And buying mothers days was an activity filled with falseness, real birthday cards were blank ones.

    When I grew with a fear of seeing to be selfish – then I understood not to ask when in need of anything – to go without

    When I grew up told off for being ungrateful – then I understood not to ask for something in case it would appear that I wasn’t content with what I had.

    When I grew up without praise or affirmation – then I learnt to keep working harder without reward, in case there might be one.

    Growing up without meant – amongst other things – without pocket money (that’s what Granny does and I dont do that, also ‘you’ll just waste it’) . Money and possessions are a big deal with the psychopathic/narcissist, everything belongs to them.

    Without meant turning up to school with arm patched up clothes, packed lunches, and when the dentist suggested braces and travelling 11 miles to get them fitted and fixed every 3 months being told ‘ No you can’t have them that bad as I’m not going to do that’ .

    When I grew up trying to understand how to survive every action or moment without being told off, or ‘upsetting the mother’ – then realising what isn’t there love, care, attention, affection, visibility, nurture, protection doesn’t even figure. There was no giving only taking.

    Oh and it extended well beyond childhood.

    There was no offer to contribute towards any studies, (even though there was insistence to attend 1 graduation) , neither was any support , housing or financial during my marriage separation 4 years ago (but there was upset that I didnt ask) . These were experienced, without.

    It was also a without so many things, and yet as I use this phrase it reminds me that ‘with’ was one of their phrases around food. It would be after some fairly disastrous first course, that a second (pudding) would be unleashed. It would be some kind of over baked, under fruited, or reduced priced pie/crumble or equivalent, and to hide it various additions would be trailed out of the fridge, to hide the original monstrosity/admission of undervalue – so ice cream (value/vanilla usually), evaporated milk or custard – or at Christmas cream or the squirty cream – the ‘with it’ was a show, a covering. It was over done, to hide ‘without’ . At this point the challenge was to be true and ‘go without’ because what looked like ‘a lot’ – a table with 5 of cream, ice cream or custard – was lacking something core, but to deny it was to appear ungrateful, because there was a weird kind of choice on offer. Gifts were toxic. So actual need requests couldnt be asked for.

    That’s what growing up in a psychological abuse home was like.

    It was without care. It was without heart, soul, safety, space, or fun.

    There was ‘with’ – but it came at a price.

    So I read Oprah and Perrys book, and realise that what I have wanted to be able to give, I had to learn, but was not what I had any experience of. Growing up emotionally alone, meant going without, existing without, surviving without, making life work for me, despite them, not because of them.

    Growing up ‘without’ meant too that I was completely susceptible to any care and attention from others, I didnt have a ‘God shaped hole’ in my life – it was more emotionally psychological than that (not that I knew at the time, most of the time) , but I certainly filled this with ‘God-shaped’ activities, in becoming part of a church through my teens and beyond. Neglect is one of the biggest issues in Child Safeguarding.

    That ‘without’ has then played out in so many ways.

    As I grew up ‘without’ I had to force myself to consider valuing myself.

    To ‘treat’ myself

    To ask for help – and know it could be trusted

    To realise I couldn’t do it alone

    To realise too that I could receive love, blessings, hope and be able to see, feel and experience the love of the universe, God and others.

    Over the last few weeks I have realised that I would have struggled to read, or dwell in the ‘Blessings’ of the book that I bought a few weeks ago (by John O Donohue) – I would have discounted these as weird, ‘new age’ , ‘not very christian’ – all to hide the real truth, that I didnt want to accept that I could receive something good, or feel something good, a blessing.

    Learning to live ‘without’ – has meant having to now come close to and notice those things, notice, accept, and know. Sometimes I get angry that I realise how much I was fucked up by my parents. Sometimes, like this moment with Oprah and a strawberry it gives me an opportunity to pause again, face a truth, and remind myself, compassionately of who I truly am. To be grateful of how I survived, and my strength in doing so. To be compassionate on my wounded heart and its capacity to love.

    There are many scarcities in life, and shame is one of them, its anti dote is self compassion. So, as I close…

    May I breath in the love of the universe, kindness, goodness and generosity, may I be healed through attending to myself, and holding myself with warmth. May I hold myself with warmth as I attend to and discover what happened to me.

    Every moment acts as an opportunity for self compassion. This journey keeps on giving.

    Thank you and bless you for reading. May you receive and give love.

  • Surviving Psychopathic Parenting (Part 33) Fearing the Upset Parent

    What phrases dominated your childhood?

    Were there things your parents would say to you?

    Hopefully they were good things, pleasant things – like ‘I love you’ every time you left the house, or ‘what kind of fun shall we do today?’ or a regular phrase said by one of them to you.

    I hope they were nice things.

    Sadly, often its not the case.

    What were the words that dominated my childhood?

    There was one phrase that was said by many many people.

    Because they knew.

    They already had experience of her temper

    They had already tried to stand up to her

    They had already felt the weight of her fury

    They had been bullied by her

    They didnt want the same for me.

    Try not to upset your mother

    That would be my Dad on many occasions

    You’d better eat your tea when you get home, or you’ll upset your mother

    Said my Nanna (RIP) , on the times I had lunch at her house (glorious food) to make sure id be home by tea and suffer the toxic food of the childhood home, served on a plate of eggshells.

    Id better make sure all your washing is done, I wouldn’t want to upset your mother

    Said my Granny (RIP) – who was utterly terrified of her own daughter, at the end of a week staying at her house. Usually the best week of the year, being sent to her house. The week after wed be given a taste of the ‘real’ world after being ‘spoiled’ by granny…

    Dont upset your mother

    Try not to upset your mother

    Your mother will get upset

    Mother upset

    She’ll get upset.

    Walking on Eggshells

    Everyone around

    Fearful, frightened.

    It wasn’t just family though.

    No one could say no to her.

    Whole groups of people had to remove her from churches. Not many can say No to her. Or dare too.

    One to one they had been terrified, belittled, and shocked by her behaviour.

    So they closed their doors.

    Everybody knew – but everyone was terrified.

    Dont upset _________ now (Insert her name)

    Dont upset your mother

    You’ll upset your mother

    The eggshells being laced around the childhood home. Mine fields of rage waiting to explode.

    The trouble was, was that she’d be upset anyway.

    Even if I tried to ‘do the thing’ – they’d be something else.

    Because full attention and full obedience and expectation was exhausting.

    A myriad of unwritten rules that would cause upset if unfollowed.

    Sometimes even by trying to do the thing that avoided the upset, there’d be upset because shed detect this over compensation.

    Everyone else responsible for her feelings.

    There was something else too.

    Because my role in the family, to survive, was soother of the upset one, emotional wedges were created when she got upset. Because I was loyal, I realised I began to believe the emotional upset. To a point, when I was 8 or 9, not when I was 15. Her toxic tears of upset created soothing sympathy, to the point where I was, and had no choice but to go along with it.

    Going along with it meant going without the things that she got upset by…. and those grudges were maintained for decades. Its probably where I developed a hatred of cats. Thats another story waiting to be told.

    Then I began to realise that the things she got upset by weren’t actually right to be upset by. I realised that she was the toxic one, but pretended otherwise. Because…. she wasn’t allowed to be upset…. see where this is going…

    This is the reality of a narcissistic parent, a narcissist and violent person who dominates every room and situation. To the point where so many other people around felt all the ripples, had suffered the same.

    (resources on becoming aware of narcissistic parents are in the resources section above)

    Fear of upsetting and unleashing the fury of the monster.

    Another reason why everyone knew.

    The phrase that dominated my childhood

    The phrase that terrified

    The phrase that meant childhood was a survival mode

    The phrase that meant that there was no freedom or free space that those eggshells weren’t far away.

    The phrase that dominated. Knowing how violent, impulsive, and distressed she becomes, its no wonder.

    What kind of behaviour did this fear create? Hiding, pretending, people pleasing….. absolutely…

    Constantly on guard. Constantly tempering every sentence, action or reaction.

    What am I feeling right now?

    Im 44. And the last few weeks layer upon layer of some of the childhood stuff has returned to my present memory, for a number of reasons, one of which is because of doing more work to listen to my inner child and his feelings, one has been that I encountered the phrase in a pertinent context. So, to be honest with you, the last few days I have been working through the past feelings of what this phrase was felt like when I was 6 or 8 or 11, and reliving the memories, the feelings and anxiety – often anxiety suppressed at the time. I guess in a small way this gives you an insight into the effects of childhood abuse and trauma. That memory comes back to infect the present. It is also an opportunity for me to recognise it, to feel it, to attend to myself and to note the spaces of safety, love and support I am currently in.

    Part 1 of Everyone knew – and everyone was terrified is here – in that post I recollect how other adults already had knowledge of my mother even from one meeting with her.

  • The Root that Took

    The Root that Took

    I feel like a potato at the moment

    Being peeled

    Layer by layer

    Skin first, feeding it’s way through the blade of the knife

    Gentle hand, gliding it’s way around the exteriort

    The skin

    To the flesh

    The white or grey

    Bruises, wounds

    Growths, fungi, mould underneath the skin

    Amongst the raw white flesh

    Wounds hidden away

    Affecting the growth

    Affects the flesh

    Amongst the white

    Peeling away

    Getting to the centre

    Getting to the root

    It’s all connected to the root

    The flesh, the fungi, the bruises, the mould,

    The root

    The root that sunk deep inside the core

    The root that detaches easily

    The root that has no connection

    The root in which no protection against bacteria or attacks were given

    The root that carried toxins from the soil

    The root that damaged growth

    The root of poison

    The root that took

    The root that sucked goodness for itself

    The root that supplied shame, hurt, fear,

    The root that neglected

    The root that always took

    The root that fucking took

    The blade is cutting through, yet soft hands are gently remoulding the flesh

    Loving and caring for the fungi, the bruises, the scars

    Bringing life

    Scraping off the root

    Sinking the flesh into healthy soil again

    Safety, love, connection, gentleness, kind.

    Repairing from the root that took.