Growing Up with a Narcissistic Mother
I used to try to write out my trauma in a chronological order to make it easier for my readers, but fuck it. I'll write about what bothers me now. I've learned my issues have always been trying to please and make things easier for other people instead of doing what I want. As sad as it is to have almost been 30 when I learned to say no and do things for my benefit instead of others, it's freeing. Onwards to the story.
My mother came to visit last week. She stayed during the work week at my place, and she moved to my sister's on the weekend so she could spend time with my nephews. During that time, she repeated a long story about 5 times, and I realized, she kept telling us this story because it obviously really bothered her. This is story in English and shortened:
"Did you know Justin changed? He does not go to church anymore because it's just ritualistic for him. I was so upset because that's what I want him to do, so I told him I want him to accompany me to mass when I'm there so it's our date, and he was okay with that. By the way, did you pray for dad? Justin said, 'no but I kept him in my thoughts' and I was so shocked I said, 'THOUGHTS? WHAT ARE THOUGHTS GOING TO DO?'" It took all of my energy to not laugh at her surprise.
Anyways, this story being told repeatedly made me pick up all the small things my brother has mentioned and realize all the things she's done that made me really angry. She keeps repeating the story because she's upset Justin is not who she thought he was. He is no longer her friend whom she would confide her hate and frustration to, which I think is inappropriate considering he is her son, but we'll get to that. December 2019, Mom talked to Justin and was trying to hold back her tears when he was sitting beside his girlfriend. "Are you not my son anymore?" she asked him because he wanted to sit beside his girlfriend and have her included in the family conversations and events. Mom also says, that Justin no longer asks him to scratch his back since he has his girlfriend now.
Justin is the golden child. I was and still am the black sheep. I've gotten beaten so badly I had bruises on my head, back, arms, and legs (classmates and teachers were concerned), screamed at so loudly that cops came to the house (but nothing was done about it), and basically told everything I did was trash and I shouldn't even try. Dad told me if there was something that bothered me about what mom or my older sisters said, I should do what they say and then tell him later. It didn't matter because my mom would tell my dad first and I was the rebellious child, so he never listened and I was always punished. While I'm glad nothing to that extremity happened to Justin, I'm still a little upset that I wasn't treated better.
Justin played tennis; mom would bring him to every practice and event he had. None of us girls trusted or wanted to spend time with mom, so Justin ended up spending the most time with her. She confided in him and told him all the things that upset her. Justin didn't want to eat a fatty piece of meat, and mom got upset and told him not to waste it, and Justin responded, "I thought you would be proud of me." Justin looked for her approval even though he already had it. He would talk back to her or tell her jokes which would normally make her angry and scream and hit me, but she would laugh with him.
At my mom's birthday cruise last year, Justin was really drunk and he told me, "Ate Anne, I'm so sorry I was so angry with you. I see how you are with the kids and I realize you're a good person." At that time, I thought it was really weird and brushed it off, but now, I realize, that Baby Incubator talked all that shit about me to Justin and TURNED MY BROTHER AWAY from me. I would be in the next room and she would tell him stuff like, "you better study otherwise you'd end up like Corinne."
I never got to spend as much time with him as I wanted because I wanted to hide from my mom (they were usually together), and he didn't want to for the most part, and I respected that. I am livid. I've been angry since I realized this. I got my childhood stolen from me and my relationship with my brother was never genuine because that toxic waste of cells whispered all sorts of propaganda into his ears. Because she doesn't understand she's the only one in the family who is making everyone miserable. I was told by my therapist that I need trauma therapy. The wait list on that is absurd.
My childhood experiences is why I can do my job as a case manager of the Department of Child Safety without getting any secondhand trauma. I've lived that, minus the substance abuse, which is worse because there are no drugs influencing her to beat her children. I thought I was happy, living a state or a country away and not having to deal with her very often. But I am still angry. I'm never going to get an apology, and there's never going to be a relationship there. And believe me, I have tried several times over many years to see her point of view and try to make a compromise, but she would scream and hit me for questioning her and disrespecting her. It's not worth it. I have thought of killing myself in front of her several times and I wish I did. Going to therapy and fixing all the decades of abuse is hard. But like my friend the Monkey from Bojack Horseman says, "It gets easier but you gotta do it every day. That's the hard part."
My mother came to visit last week. She stayed during the work week at my place, and she moved to my sister's on the weekend so she could spend time with my nephews. During that time, she repeated a long story about 5 times, and I realized, she kept telling us this story because it obviously really bothered her. This is story in English and shortened:
"Did you know Justin changed? He does not go to church anymore because it's just ritualistic for him. I was so upset because that's what I want him to do, so I told him I want him to accompany me to mass when I'm there so it's our date, and he was okay with that. By the way, did you pray for dad? Justin said, 'no but I kept him in my thoughts' and I was so shocked I said, 'THOUGHTS? WHAT ARE THOUGHTS GOING TO DO?'" It took all of my energy to not laugh at her surprise.
Anyways, this story being told repeatedly made me pick up all the small things my brother has mentioned and realize all the things she's done that made me really angry. She keeps repeating the story because she's upset Justin is not who she thought he was. He is no longer her friend whom she would confide her hate and frustration to, which I think is inappropriate considering he is her son, but we'll get to that. December 2019, Mom talked to Justin and was trying to hold back her tears when he was sitting beside his girlfriend. "Are you not my son anymore?" she asked him because he wanted to sit beside his girlfriend and have her included in the family conversations and events. Mom also says, that Justin no longer asks him to scratch his back since he has his girlfriend now.
Justin is the golden child. I was and still am the black sheep. I've gotten beaten so badly I had bruises on my head, back, arms, and legs (classmates and teachers were concerned), screamed at so loudly that cops came to the house (but nothing was done about it), and basically told everything I did was trash and I shouldn't even try. Dad told me if there was something that bothered me about what mom or my older sisters said, I should do what they say and then tell him later. It didn't matter because my mom would tell my dad first and I was the rebellious child, so he never listened and I was always punished. While I'm glad nothing to that extremity happened to Justin, I'm still a little upset that I wasn't treated better.
Justin played tennis; mom would bring him to every practice and event he had. None of us girls trusted or wanted to spend time with mom, so Justin ended up spending the most time with her. She confided in him and told him all the things that upset her. Justin didn't want to eat a fatty piece of meat, and mom got upset and told him not to waste it, and Justin responded, "I thought you would be proud of me." Justin looked for her approval even though he already had it. He would talk back to her or tell her jokes which would normally make her angry and scream and hit me, but she would laugh with him.
At my mom's birthday cruise last year, Justin was really drunk and he told me, "Ate Anne, I'm so sorry I was so angry with you. I see how you are with the kids and I realize you're a good person." At that time, I thought it was really weird and brushed it off, but now, I realize, that Baby Incubator talked all that shit about me to Justin and TURNED MY BROTHER AWAY from me. I would be in the next room and she would tell him stuff like, "you better study otherwise you'd end up like Corinne."
I never got to spend as much time with him as I wanted because I wanted to hide from my mom (they were usually together), and he didn't want to for the most part, and I respected that. I am livid. I've been angry since I realized this. I got my childhood stolen from me and my relationship with my brother was never genuine because that toxic waste of cells whispered all sorts of propaganda into his ears. Because she doesn't understand she's the only one in the family who is making everyone miserable. I was told by my therapist that I need trauma therapy. The wait list on that is absurd.
My childhood experiences is why I can do my job as a case manager of the Department of Child Safety without getting any secondhand trauma. I've lived that, minus the substance abuse, which is worse because there are no drugs influencing her to beat her children. I thought I was happy, living a state or a country away and not having to deal with her very often. But I am still angry. I'm never going to get an apology, and there's never going to be a relationship there. And believe me, I have tried several times over many years to see her point of view and try to make a compromise, but she would scream and hit me for questioning her and disrespecting her. It's not worth it. I have thought of killing myself in front of her several times and I wish I did. Going to therapy and fixing all the decades of abuse is hard. But like my friend the Monkey from Bojack Horseman says, "It gets easier but you gotta do it every day. That's the hard part."