house of bonsai: window shopping

December 26, 2006

window shopping

This is a post I made to one of the online ACON (Adult Children of Narcissists) groups on Christmas Eve:

~~~~~~~~~~

I just came back from a trip to Boston with my newlywed husband. We walked around the city, peoplewatched, and looked at the lights as dusk fell. We listened to groups of street musicians and got some dinner. We mostly had a good time, but...

We were very near the hotel where my elderly N-mom has holed herself up forever (most recently for a year, but over the past five years, on and off for over 50% of the time...she needs assisted living and won't allow it, as I've posted before, so living in a hotel, on room service, is her answer instead). It just upset me to be that near her (we haven't spoken in a year, either in person or by phone). We were only blocks away.

I also saw all the families...not just young parents with their kids, but also folks in their 20s, 30s, 40s with their older parents: smiling, walking, getting their last bit of shopping dealt with. Many seemed legitimately happy to be together on Christmas Eve.

I'm not a Christian, but I generally have no problem getting into the spirit of giving and light, particularly if it's outside of the context of the veritable stranglehold my N-mom always had on Christmas. But today, watching people laughing and skating on a pond in the middle of Boston Common, I just burst into tears and buried my head in my husband's chest, crying. (I'm pre-menstrual at the moment, which I'm sure didn't help...).

My N-Mom always made SUCH a big deal about Christmas --- it had to be JUST SO (carved wooden angels she bought when she worked in Germany in her 20s placed on the mantel with greens she'd gathered, very specific classical music on the stereo with her alto voice singing intermittently-in-tune harmonies, and LOTS of wine for her, of course). It was like a freakin' pageant...it wasn't awful when viewed as a one-time-only event, but if anything got in the way of her doing everything in the exact right order in the exact right way, or if anything came up that needed more attention than her process, it was best to run for the hills. Even after she was no longer officially hosting or facilitating, she was passive/aggressively controlling everything.

One year, she got upset at my brother and SIL when they brought along a menorah (they're Jewish) during a year when Xmas and Hanukkah coincided; their twins were 7 or 8 and it was very important to them. This was at *my house*, when *I* was hosting (why would *she* have gotten upset, or rather, what *right* did she have to get upset?). Of course, the word "host" was relative, as my brother M. wasn't in attendance --- again, her wishes, not mine. She sputtered about how her before-dinner prayers were resented by us (yeah, Mom --- you're the only Christian at the table and you're running roughshod over us, as a captive audience, with your pompous "form over content"). She actually managed to get a few oblique passive-aggressive zingers in, *during the prayer*, about her heathen, non-Christian children.

My brother and SIL were respectful to my ex-husband and me about setting up and lighting the menorah, and I had no argument with them. But given my mom's reaction to them, and then her own studied piousness in offering her prayers before dinner (she took my hand at the table to offer the prayer, and I just wanted to run away screaming)...in a way, I felt like it was just a big fight about religion --- and in the house of a host who is a committed agnostic...beyond rude...I felt like an appliance at best (just there to facilitate everybody else's Christmas "home movie"; my goal for myself was just to get through it), and at worst, like a doormat.

Don't get me wrong...life with her was hell, and Christmas was always among the worst of it. I wouldn't have it back for anything. But I feel like such an orphan now, watching other people having happy, relatively uncomplicated times together with their parents. I never had that, and I never *will* have that, and it's all starting to hit me.

All I can do is create wonderful new memories with my husband. He was wonderfully understanding today, and is truly my "family" (it's hard to think of that word as something other than a 4-letter word, but I'm making progress). I also take joy in knowing that my relationships with my two brothers, despite her efforts to get between us, are intact and healthy. We're all healthy, other than the shared psychological horror at the fact that she's rotting away alone in her $40,000-a-year hotel suite with her "paid friends" (the hotel staff). Things could be a lot worse.

My best to everybody, whether you celebrate Christmas, Hannukah, the solstice, etc. --- and thoughts of a happy 2007.

3 comments:

Liesel Elliott said...: I've just come to visit from a comment you made on my blog, and I had to comment.

I just want you to know that I admire your courage and fortitude. I struggle all the time with my relationship with my mother, and although my therapist years ago asked me why I didn't just cut her out of my life - I couldn't do it. I am unable to do it for myself. I may do it for my son, but she would have to do something bad enough for me to make the break...and she seems to realize that she is on thin ice in that area.

The holidays are awful for me as well, not just Christmas, but most holidays. I tend to curl up into a ball and not do anything to celebrate, and then I feel terrible that I am denying my son the experience of the "true" holiday, which still is, in my twisted mind, the over the top drama that my mother always had (and still has).; 7:44 AM
Anonymous said...: I love your "family movie" analogy. That illusion they chose to sacrifice us to instead of honoring us as beloved, cherished children is their sick narcissistic relic. Even a holiday of love and light can't defeat it.

I imagine this year will be hard as my first year as a fellow "orphan" but with all of the drama from the past, it's also the first year I'm not stressed over visiting, gifting, etc. I'm glad your hubby was there for you when you broke down. I'm sure mine will be doing double-duty closer to the holidays. :D; 1:49 AM
Anonymous said...: '"family" (it's hard to think of that word as something other than a 4-letter word...)'

Wow. I've had that thought for years, but this is the first time I've ever seen anyone else articulate it.

(I know you have a lot of other Anonymous posters, so for mine, I'll just start using this name:)
-Cassandra; 10:56 PM

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

December 26, 2006

window shopping

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