What I see when I look in the mirror is someone to fear. Someone who will cost society money–a liability as opposed to an asset. And I’m scared. Terrified even. I feel like I’ve fooled those I love and who love me. I’ve always wanted to be loved and to be the kind of person worthy of being loved. And now it’s as if they’ve got a present wrapped up in a shiny bow but opened it up just to find something ugly and vile inside. Me.
There are babies in abusive situations. There are children for whom the alternative is neglect, maltreatment, foster care. Or even worse. Children who badly need care, love and a roof over their heads. It makes me want to scream. Rocks pounds in my ears when I face the reality that adoption is the best alternative we have. How have we arrived at such a point that for some mothers their own survival means abandoning their children? Or for some children their best chance of survival is to be taken from their mothers?
I write not to vilify her. I write because I own my story. I write to assert my existence. I write because silence around abuse, even emotional abuse, gives it the authority and space to continue.
But although I drifted aimlessly on the open seas, buffeted by the storms I conjured myself from my grief, I also found that had the tools to fashion an oar.
When I grew up and found my natural parents, there was of course no gold crown waiting for me. Just a realization that I was the rather ordinary product of a tawdry affair where responsibility for my presence was passed off to a childless married couple desperate for a child of ‘their own’. I was a possession.
When I see their confusion and upset, I feel as if it would be better simply if I were not there. As if I am not fit to be a mother. As if I should leave the parenting to healthier adults.
You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong with the world. You don’t know what it is, but its there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.
One of the biggest dangers of growing up with a narcissistic mother, is that you will believe that the relationship you have with her is a loving and rewarding one. And even if you don’t it’s the original relationship which created your idea of what a relationship should look like. Which means that one day soon, you’ll be going out with a narcissist yourself.
I discovered last week that you read my blog. This blog! Although my initial reaction was one of fear, after 5 seconds I started laughing at what I imagine your reaction to be when you read about my not-so-private sex life out there on the web.
I want to forgive. I don’t want to be the victim. But I don’t know how not to be…
- Page 1 of 2