mother knows best

I'm back in the land of the living!  I've made myself wallow this weekend; no work, no cleaning, no visiting , no baking. I still have to figure out where the tendrils of this Evil in my life have taken hold and expose them for what they are. But telling my secret has done so much good, and I'm on my way.

So, for now, I'd like to get back to regular programming!

Something I love about my therapist is that she's caught on that I am introvert in an extrovert's clothing, and that I will steer the conversation to anything more comfortable to talk about. When I'm doing this, she just waits silently for my mind to go back to what I need to be talking about.

In one of these quiet moments, I surprised myself by saying this: My mind (my emotional brain) and my brain (fact/logic/common sense) tell me two different things, and I give my emotional brain way too much credit.

As an example, here's how my fact-based, common sense brain and my emotional brain have to say about my college experience.

My fact-based brain looks at it like this....

I studied Aerospace Engineering in college and minored in math, and I worked my ass off. My last three years of college, I was averaging 4-6 hours of sleep a night just so I could get my work done. The only time I was with friends was to work together on homework. My senior design project took even more time than usual, on top of me maxing out the number of credit hours the university would let me take in a single semester. But the project turned out fantastic, landed me the job I have today working on a NASA satellite subsystem, and created many lasting friendships.

That said, my first few years of college were unbelievably rough on me. I dealt with things ranging from feeling abandoned by God to having vicious, unfounded rumors spread about me to feeling as if I had lost the love of my life, and I dealt with them in unhealthy, college-like ways.  On top of all that, I contracted Mono and was sleeping all the time, which killed my GPA. The only way I graduated on time with a decent GPA was to take maximum credit loads for five semesters, which is commendable on top of an already difficult major: out of the 200 people who started out in my major, less than 30 graduated, and only 4 of them were women.

But....

The first thing I feel when I think of college was the terrible things I did the first year. Getting black-out drunk at parties, smoking pot, sneaking off weekends to other college towns, getting involved with men who were jackasses. I think about trying to get boys to fall for me at parties, getting sick in the dorm bathroom, walking home across campus at 4am after waking up on a friend of a friend of a friend's couch. I think about how I screwed up that Physics lab. I think about how I could've done better in mechanics. I think how I could've been a nicer person through it all. And on and on.

You get the gist. I know that if I met somebody on the street who has done the things I have, I would consider them successful. I would be able to see their mistakes as being lost, hurt, confused, and young. But when I think about myself, my emotional brain trudges up everything I've done wrong and conveniently ignores the commendable accomplishments.

Today I had an epiphone. My "emotional brain" is my mom's voice in my head! And its not saying, "As long as you try your best, nothing else matters!" or "I love you no matter what."

It's saying: "You should have done better."  It's saying: "You're so lazy!"

I was reading McBride's Will I Ever Be Good Enough and came to the recovery section a few weeks ago. In this section, McBride tries to help its reader develop their "Inner Mother," which I dismissed as Self-Help Bull Honky. But hell, that's what I'm talking about here: replacing my mom's voice in my head with a unconditionally loving voice that is understanding above all else.

I think the first step to replacing my mom's negative voice is to take all the sore spots and write them down. Write what my brain knows about the situation. Then write what I feel about myself with regards to the situation. I think I'll come to find out that most of the negative rhetoric will sounds just like all the crap my mother has fed me throughout my life.

I'm curious -- has anybody done this before?  Any other suggestions with pulling apart my mom's voice in my head from my own?

green-eyed momster

I started reading farther into Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers a few nights ago. The particular section I started at struck a chord so much that it brought up some unresolved anger about an incident with my NM. It was part of the book was about the envy of the NM towards her daughter.

I recall realizing at an early age that my mom seemed jealous of me. When I was growing up, she would always say that my father loved the kids better than her. Through college, she would get mad that I "got to do fun things" as they stayed at home and “toiled away” (I haven’t told you this yet, Reader, but I was in a major in college that demanded a particular sort of commitment to it; I started with 200 people in my major my freshman year, and graduated less than 30. I was doing fun things, sure, but I wasn’t being spared from toiling away by any means). Her lack of invitation to my bachelorette party made her fume. My mom will happily offer to babysit for my sister so she can go out with friends, and then attacks her for the next few days over everything, telling her that it's her own fault that she's tired because she went out too late and drank too much (even if she clearly isn’t tired from it and didn't drink a drop).

But this is all dwarfed by the biggest source of her envy: my other families. When I was little, it was my relationship to my friends and their families. Then it was my relationship with my boyfriends or their families. Now, its my relationship to my in-laws, particularly when it comes to holidays. My husband and I live an hour away from my family and 3.5 hours away from his family. Trying to make a Thanksgiving and Christmas at both families was difficult when we were both in college and on holiday breaks for them; now that I have a full-time job, it is ridiculous to think of trying to. When I called my mom in early October (1.5 months early!) to let her know that my husband and I have made a decision to spend Thanksgiving with my family and Christmas with my husband's family, my mom was out for a work meeting and my Dad answered. My mom has these meetings at some interval, but I don’t know when or how often, although when I call when she’s at them, she'll expect a nefarious reason. I told my dad what I was calling to tell my mom. He innocently told my mother, and the next morning, I received an email response from my mother at work. I always say that passive-agressive isn't my family's style. Agressive-agressive is our modus operandi. Case in point.

NM:
"I saw you called last night.  I hope you were not trying to circumvent me while I was at a meeting to get the answer you want from Dad.  Haven't we been there,done that?

I realize you guys have to travel on the holidays usually, but when do you propose to exchange gifts here?  Many  people do travel on the holidays to see their family. Christmas is on Saturday.  Can't you come here Christmas Eve and leave for <Husband's hometown> on Christmas. Or have Christmas Eve in <my husband and my current city> and Christmas morning here.  Usually <Sister> does not have to go anywhere until afternoon on Christmas. Don't you want to see <Niece> and <Nephew>, me, <Sister> and Dad on Christmas?  As far as Thanksgiving, I need to call <Brother’s Daughter’s mom> to see what her plans are to come or not.  Thanksgiving seems to work on Friday."

I have to say, reading this email still pisses me off. I could list off all the reasons why my husband and I chose to split the holidays this way, Reader, but I have a feeling that you might understand that our decision did not involve purposely causing offense to anybody.

I responded to her with a very long email outlining our thought process, to prove the underlying  reasons. It was biting, but fair. It made me feel better to send it, even though I knew it would accomplish very little. I had outlined exactly what our reasons were, leaving her with no leg to stand on. Now I realize that it is typical of my communication with my mother...
1) Try to remain calm. Emphasis on "try". Usually fail. Bite back just enough to feel revenged, usually in response to a particular nasty comment from her.
2) Use logic -- logic is undeniable.
3) Use email/text and be as explicit as possible: then my words can't be twisted.

And I met my goal: she stopped arguing that we had to come to both Christmas and Thanksgiving. I left her with no legs to stand on!

But, of course, it didn’t matter in the end. She just changed how her anger came out. In the days up to Thanksgiving she stopped saying that we were favoring my husband's family, but instead, she would say in a nasty tone that my husband and I just dictated to her what we were going to do for the holiday (Of course we did! We are married, a family of our own, and can make our own damn decisions!) She constantly said that my nephew and niece weren't going to have their aunt and uncle there for Christmas. She used every tool at her disposal to show me her anger over the fact that we weren't planning on going to be in my hometown for both holidays.

My husband and I stuck to our guns. Thanksgiving in my hometown, Christmas in his. When Thanksgiving rolled around, though, my Mom attacked my sister verbally to the point that my sister left and said she wouldn't be back for dinner. Then my Mom came after me, saying things like, "Why don't you go and see the people you ACTUALLY want to be with?" to the point that we told her we were going home and left. And then we went to spend Thanksgiving with my husband's family -- because I'll be damned if her tantrum ruins our holiday. Later, when she asked me what we did for Thanksgiving, I told her that it was none of her business the second after she ran us out of her house.

Thanksgiving at his family would be considered a disaster in my mom’s eyes. We heated up store-bought entrees and sides. It was disgusting, and cold, and the one thing we did buy and bake ourself -- the turkey -- was undercooked. And it was the best Thanksgiving my husband and I have had together.

I’m trying to use this NM Parable to learn my lessons in communicating with my mother…

1. She’ll probably get to me, because, as my mother, she knows the buttons and can find them when looking. But, I don’t have to give her that pleasure. I can stick to my guns, make my own decisions, and she can make whatever noise she wants. I can try to find out why these sore spots she’s pressing on are sore at all, and fix them. I can draw firm boundaries and refuse to engage her. I can choose to keep my dignity. I can choose to block her out. I can choose to realize that this person, while she did give birth to me, is a far cry from a Mother.

2. I can use logic all I want, but will likely just force her into a corner with it where she’ll just scratch her way out. She hates losing control, regardless of reason.

3. Email/text helps in the immediate time frame, but will inevitably spill over into life. Really, the best bet is to avoid extraneous conversations altogether.

I’ve been working on this. I used to call my mom idly, because I was bored or wanted to see what they had for dinner. Considering about 50% of our phone conversations ends with me being degraded or bossed around in some way, I’ve been avoiding calling her unless necessary.

But I’m not doing so well at it. Just a few days ago, I let myself get baited, and my mom started yelling on the phone, and hung up when I tried to stop her. Then picked up and hung up when I called her back. And let it go to voicemail the next time.

I wish this blog post ended with resolution. But it won’t, because I haven't gotten there yet. I have listed out what I have to do, but I don't know how to actually implement it. I don’t know how to keep myself from being baited. I don’t know how to finally learn that yes, my mom gave birth to me, but I can’t expect her to be a Mother.

self help.

The past few months have been a whole lot of what I thought I never wanted to do or be. It's involved AA meetings and therapy, two things I am sorely disappointed in myself for having to attend. And most recently, and perhaps most embarrassingly, I have found myself buying and reading self-help books.

Since my counselor said that my mother might be NPD, I have been reading about it voraciously online. It's brought me to a few websites and blogs, where I gained what information I could, but realized that I would need to get books to really understand. From what I could tell, Dr. Karyl McBride's Will I Ever Be Good Enough: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers was the place to start. So I went to amazon.com to buy that, and ended up getting Dr. Susan Forward's Emotional Blackmail: When the People in Your Life Use Fear, Obligation, and Guilt to Manipulate You and  Toxic Parents: Overcoming Their Hurtful Legacy and Reclaiming Your Life as well.

They were delivered today, and I rushed home from work to get them. I'm on page 143 of 219 of Will I Ever Be Good Enough. So much information, I am overwhelmed. Perhaps I should've read it slower.

I'm relieved by the validation. I'm completely irked seeing my personality type laid out plainly in print, and having to think that maybe I'm not who I am because of my own hard work, but because my mom's Crazy pushed me into it. It explains to me why I am overachiever in many ways, yet still feel completely uncomfortable with success. It explains why alcoholism is a part of my life.

As the daughter of a Nmom, there are three steps to recovery, it says.

Step 1: Gather background information, identify problem, diagnose problem, understand problem on cognitive level.

Step 2: Process the feelings related to step one, grieve, feel, reprogram negative messages.

Step 3: Reframe, view differently, make decision to change, change.

So here I am, stuck somewhere between step 1 and 2. I find myself completely frustrated that my cognitive mind can't just snap my emotional mind out of it and get on with Step 2.

Narc

After going to two months of meetings, I have decided that AA may not be for me, because I'm having trouble connecting to the people -- as I often do in large groups.  I also have this nagging feeling that I may be susceptible to any addiction right now -- to work, to food, to sex, to anxiety meds, etc -- because of the emotional baggage I've been carrying around. So, I decided to see a counselor that has experience with addiction.

My first appointment was last week. My husband has been trying to coax me into therapy for years. But I was absolutely terrified of baring my soul to anyone and of being so vulnerable, and so always put it off. I have been nervous a month, running through my head the questions she might ask and the answers I will give, and telling myself not to soften the truth like I do for everybody else. She's here to help me, and she can't unless I give myself fully to the process.

Three minutes in, I was bawling. She asked me where I thought the alcoholism was rooted, I said anxiety, she asked me where I thought the anxiety was rooted in, and I said work and my family -- no -- my parents -- no -- my mom. And then the stories from my childhood poured out, in tears and lip quivers. For once, they were the actual cruelstories without any editing to reduce the pity the other person might feel for me.

And then she asked me if I knew what Narcissistic Personality Disorder was. She described it, and told me that it sounds like my mother may have it, and that it's poisoning me, and that people with narcissistic parents often have to put up walls between themselves and their parents to protect themselves....that they sometimes I have to cut them off entirely.

I cried the whole way home, the whole night and the next day, as I researched what this meant. It meant that maybe she never loved me, because she's incapable of it. I have always thought that she doesn't have the 'mother gene'. But maybe I was wrong, maybe its that she has the 'me gene'. It meant that all of my memories have to be looked through this different lens.

And then, that's all I could think of...all my memories through this new lens. Doesn't it explain the blatant difference in treatment between my sister and I our entire lives? Doesn't it explain her snooping into anything she could use against me? Doesn't it explain her inability to complement except when it is inappropriate, and her ability to cut my legs out from under me during the times that should be nothing but celebratory?

It's exhausting. But exhilarating.

It wasn't me! IT ISN'T ME! I never could understand why no matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. And now I do! No matter what I do, it could never be good enough to get due (or any!) praise or unconditional love from her.

And now, I need to look through my own personality through this lens. How did this affect me? In what ways has my emotional health been affected by this environment? What do I need to do to protect myself from the narcissistic poison?

I was terrified of it, but tearing myself apart and finding where my roots end might just be kind of great.