house of bonsai: 11/05: the last-ditch effort

August 18, 2006

11/05: the last-ditch effort

I began to get a sinking feeling, though, that she was getting entirely too comfortable in the tiny guest bedroom of our cozy but very small home as five and then six weeks went by. This sinking feeling ended up with thoughts like "I've just ruined my wonderful life", accompanied by an actual feeling of pressure on my chest, like someone was sitting on my throat and chest. I was losing sleep, having disturbing thoughts about it interrupt my train of thought during my work with my students, and crying uncontrollably as soon as my fiance and I were alone in our room at night. None of this is even remotely like me.

We had made an appointment with a local Elder Law attorney whom Rob knew. She lived in the next town over, but her office was on his mail route, so he had gotten to know her and her staff over the past few years. One of her specialties was processing and ironing out health insurance forms for the elderly. This was a service my mom had really appreciated when my grandfather was ill back in the 90s. We told her "Interview this attorney, mom, and if you like her, give her your health insurance stuff to work on. She's been in the biz for 30 years, is really nice, and has a great reputation. If you like her work, then maybe she could be the one to help with your estate planning. If not, drop it all and keep looking for another attorney --- there's no commitment implied here. She even makes house calls; she's going to drop by on Monday after work". The need for estate planning (or hell, even a proper will) was one of the primary items on her Lip Service list, i.e., talk about it and talk about it, but never make an actual move to implement anything, nor authorize anyone to do it for you. In fact, it had been in the top three items on her Lip Service list for several years, although not one concrete step had actually been taken up until this point.

She tried to play nice about the idea of the attorney (in order to seem more in keeping with all the past lip service on the issue), but she was simultaneously incensed that we had made an appointment without her knowledge. Sputtering and upset, she told us that she should have been the one to schedule the appointment (perhaps it might have happened, after another six or eight months had gone by). We said "OK, mom, pick a different day, if it won't work for you"; she didn't. Instead, she let the day of the appointment arrive, and then, all of a sudden, was Feeling Much, Much Sicker.

Time to throw down the gauntlet...

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how to navigate this blog

Welcome!

First, please read the "first post, August 2006", further down in this column. It sets the context for everything that follows.

Then, please click on the labels section and go chronologically. Sometimes I'll write about a memory about something which happened a long time ago, so going by the dates the posts were written isn't the best way to read the blog. Occasionally, a given post that is relevant over time will have several labels applied to it (1970s, 1980s, 1990s). But overall: stick with the labels and it will be a lot clearer!

Thank you for being here, and for reading.

Note: some names have been changed to preserve privacy.

first post, August 2006

Recently, it's come to my attention that I have a challenge to meet, a life-altering decision to make: can I continue to have contact with my mother and still hold onto my integrity, my sanity, my serenity?

My mother (who at her best was at one time glamorous, brilliant, interesting, eclectic, and self-absorbed) has morphed over the past years and decades into an unrepentant, myopic, full-blown narcissist. She turns all conversations back to the topic of herself, thinks nothing of the true welfare of others (although she sometimes pretends to do so for short periods when it serves her), and can never take even partial responsibility for any of her actions or inactions. "I am sorry" is a phrase which never falls from her lips...never.

Everyone has bad times and bad luck, but in her eyes, her bad times and bad luck are always worse than anyone else's. She's been "going through a hard time" from the years of my earliest memories, at age 3 or 4, more or less non-stop up through today. Her reaction to others putting up healthy boundaries (in my case, very late in life) is to fly into one of her legendary rages. She also cannot take responsibility for the fact that her actions (and inactions) have been prime contributors to the very negative, sad, isolated place her life has now become.

Her friends, subjected increasingly to her incessant self-focus and self-pity, have been abandoning her in droves, finally tiring of the asymmetric nurturing she requires of all those around her. This trend has put even more pressure on me, in recent years, to be there for her, as one of her last remaining contacts. And now even I am throwing in the towel, going against every ounce of socialization I've received (as her only daughter) from her and from society at large.

Because one of the primary methods of a narcissist is be at the center of attention (whether positive or negative, sometimes it doesn't even matter to them) and to have others see life through their distorted point of view, it seems that children of narcissistic parents can really bear the brunt of this disorder.

It seems that it is only now --- after 40 years of life on this earth, a decade or more of escalating attempts to help her with her never-ending, chronic-by-design problems and issues, several recent severe crises due to my overextending my and my partner's energies to try to help even more --- that I am able to even look at the history, the issues, and for a sane path out of this dark thicket of her pathology. I attribute this growth to increasing self-esteem and resiliency, due in no small part to a wonderful partner and friends, as well as some therapy.

Merely telling my friends "she makes all conversations into brochures about herself" or "she can't apologize" doesn't even begin to illustrate the true depth of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. If I sit down to chat and tell these ridiculous stories over again with various friends, particularly in enough detail to give even a fraction of the full picture, it will take up too much of our potentially much more pleasant time together.

At the same time, I do want those who are close to me to understand what it is that I've experienced, on whatever level they're interested or have time for --- from skimming a post or two to reading more extensively. Much of it will come as a surprise, precisely because of the fact that the sheer oddness and inappropriateness of her behaviour leads me not to bring it up in polite company. It's all too weird, too complicated, and too unsavory to discuss within the context of an average dinner with friends...

Perhaps most importantly, these memories have been living in my head for years, and I've been holding onto them almost like a set of worry beads, a template to keep in mind in case other narcissistic people try to enter my life, so I can run in the other direction. Since, in her absence, I'm finally beginning to trust my judgment a bit more, I think I can safely begin to let these memories go, to let them fade a bit --- to the best extent possible. Writing them out, I'm hoping, will go a good way toward accomplishing that "letting go".

Whether you're an old friend, a treasured colleague, or someone whom I've met and bonded with through the online ACON community, I welcome your comments and cherish your ongoing support and friendship.

house of bonsai

August 18, 2006

11/05: the last-ditch effort

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