by Longtimecoming on Thu Dec 06, 2012 10:19 am
I am feeling raw today after writing on my father's internet group for parents of estranged children. I was/am very angry with what I read there and the total lack of understanding. He talks a lot about getting me to understand his pain, but aside from vague "sorry you feel that ways" he can not grasp how loosing my family over my mother's misguided intentions on making me her business would make me feel less regarded than a piece of poo they scraped off of their shoe. My mother wrote me this letter today, likely after hearing that I made my presence known there. "I’ve made a few allegations. I allege that you are a “drug addicted” Narcissist who doesn’t give a $#%^ about anyone but you, and your drug: attention, adulation and praise. I allege that you’re a cold blooded predator. Go ahead, prove me wrong. Show me you have a heart, show me that you give a $#%^. You’ve had since 1998 to approach me with humble apology for having harmed me. You’ve had since 1998 to feel bad and recant all the horrible things that you said to me. You’ve had since 1998 to offer restitution: repayment of the business loan you stuck us with when you took off with all the assets. You’ve had since 1998 to make an effort to communicate with me, face to face, heart to heart. You’ve had since 1998 to offer to pay for counselling and invite me to partake. Since 1998, you’ve done nothing but criticize me and make every attempt to silence me. You chase me and make the effort to make good your apology. You chase me in making attempts to communicate. You chase me with your offer. I’m waiting. I’m here. Go!!! There’s only one thing that will cause me to risk a relationship with you and that’s YOU telling me, “Mama, I’m sick of this, I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get back to being that loving, caring and connected human being I used to be”. I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I’m willing to work with you toward healing." This "loan" that she speaks of was never discussed with me when I was a child attending voice lessons, nor was it discussed when I was older that I would have to refund these so called "gifts" in the future. The ONLY discussion we had of any nature was with a lawyer present (which can be verified by a 3rd party) that IF I was to make a career out of music, ONLY when I made money from this would I be responsible to pay her a percentage. To clarify, I did not make any money and only did it for the enjoyment of music it self. At the time, I was 18 and the lawyer (a family friend) advised me strongly (in privacy) not to sign the agreement my mother had written up because I didn't know what I was getting myself in to and he didn't trust my mothers intentions. With all of this, how is it still so hard for my father to understand that supporting my mother in reminding me of this injustice would not be most mindbending-ly unhealthy thing for a child to hear AT ANY AGE, let alone when I was a bratty 18 yr old trying to find my way in the world. Honestly, the hardest thing for me to read on that entire forum of my fathers, was my his story about how he noticed the most spectacular mushrooms growing in the BC forrest and went on to describe them. Just last week, I posted a photo on my FB account of the most beautiful mushroom I found and spent the evening enjoying looking for it's scientific name on the internet. I wished I could be there, sharing the many things we have in common, but instead I am reminded countlessly about how much my career choices have ruined my mothers hopes for being a songwriter. I know that the mushroom picking with my father will never happen, and how sick is it that this is all I want from a parent when my mother does is sits and stews about imaginary money I soposedly owe her? I know as solidly as granite that I will never go mushroom picking with my dad, because as long as they are rubbing my nose in those perceived wrong doings, I will not be participating in AN... [ Continued ]
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by Longtimecoming on Thu Aug 16, 2012 5:13 am
Well here we are. A few days to my wedding date and good old mom is going crazy, trying as hard as she can to make my wedding miserable with the small amount of contact she is able to make with me. An old email address I keep open is her last link to me. Though I keep hoping she will use it to say something loving, it never turns out that way. I don't respond back, but I keep the line open for 2 reasons. 1. In hopes that she will somehow have a breakthrough with a therapist or a sudden complete change of personality (wishful thinking), or 2. Just in case she decides to do something extra crazy so that I know about it and can get her some help. She likes to tread on the borderline of schizophrenic, chanting about god and her pure intentions while she abuses me, and also about various figures in history that she feels support her cause (Hitler, Lucifer). She also occasionally likes to tell me how she believes in aliens and her psychic powers. Barf. I had kept my wedding date a secret after she had ambushed my mother and father and law last year (see original post) and tried not to publish the wedding date etc online, but somehow in signing up for gift registries, Sur La Table decided to advertise my wedding online without my consent or knowledge. Lovely. None the less, it was she who decided to boycott my wedding in the first place so I find it interesting now that she blames me for not inviting her. This is typical behavior for her. Eventually I did un-invite her for good reason. She made herself look like a crazy person in front of my new family and became too difficult and painful to handle. In the end, it was't worth the heartache for us to have her attend. At least the location is completely off the map, unless the sheep and the goats have internet access. So as my future husband and I prepare for a celebration of love and union, I thought I would share the ugly reality of special events for children of NPD mothers and parents so that the people who suffer right along with me have something to relate to, behaviors they recognize, and hopefully a point of reference in case there are still those of you who wonder "was it something I did to deserve this"? No, it wasn't, and if your parent sends you bull**** like this you are perfectly justified in not allowing them around the people you love. Below are emails from my mother after she had decided to high tail it out of this forum after not liking what the general public had to say about her madness. Hope you like youtube as much as I do (insert eye roll). Keep in mind that she is writing to me, a 34 yr old woman knowing full well that I do not follow her idea of god.. From: <s@shaw.ca> Subject: (No Subject) Date: June 19, 2012 11:36:50 PM PDT To: v@hotmail.com http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pl5uFvoYy8c Someone who has little or no empathy, will find it hard to relate to the message in this video. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: <s@shaw.ca> Subject: (No Subject) Date: June 20, 2012 2:51:50 AM PDT To: v@hotmail.com http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttDe29nBuzA&feature=endscreen&NR=1 I pray you'll be our eyes And watch us where we go And help us to be wise In times when we don't know Let this be our prayer When we lose our way Lead us to a place Guide us with your grace To a place where we'll be safe I pray we'll find your light And holds it in our hearts When stars go out each night Remind us where you are Let this be our prayer When shadows fill our day Lead us to a place Guide us with your grace Give us faith so we'll be safe A world where pain and sorrow will be ended And every heart that's broken will be mended And we'll remember we are all gods children Reaching out to touch you Reaching to the stars We ask that life be Kind And watch us from above We hope each soul will find Another soul to love Let this be your prayer Just like every... [ Continued ]
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by Longtimecoming on Thu May 17, 2012 2:06 am
It's helpful for me to be here somehow.. I don't know why, but even reading and solidifying that my mom has mental and emotional illness helps me heal in some way. I don't feel sorry for her in the way that she wants me to, but I do feel sorry for her inability to be happy and I'm sad that she has no way of changing this for herself. I have a wonderful life these days, with so much support around and nothing but good memories to make. I don't ever remember feeling envious of her now, or at any point in my adolescent life. I was welcome and open to working with my mother on a music career until I had a look around me to see what was happening. So how was it that she made me feel uneasy? I remember feeling embarrassed and worried about what would come out of my mother's mouth when we were around people and that included music executives she herself worked so hard to establish relationships with. She would do all of this tireless work networking, arranging, planning, only to turn people off, and then banish me from working with people she perceived as a threat, even if it was originally her own good idea. I saw quickly that this career she was pushing me toward was never going to have a chance if she was the person doing the talking. When I was 18 and still living at home, we spent months getting excited about working with a music production couple responsible for discovering one of America's top female pop artists of the last decade, with credits that included production for the now deceased Michael Jackson. My mother was a phenomenal networker and with the demos we wrote together as well as my singing ability, she convinced them to come to Edmonton to work at writing some songs together in a local studio. They agreed and funded a trip on their own dime form LA, and when they arrived in the middle of our Canadian winter we were delighted to see that they were as genuine and sincere as had come across in on the phone. We got along marvelously for the first 3 days they visited, working together to write and record, but on the fourth day... my mother decided that she didn't want to share song credits equally with these two experienced song writers because they had rearranged my mother's poem into a format we could successfully use to make a song. When we got together in the morning at their hotel after a night of reworking, my mother was horrified that one half of the songwriting team had moved around her original song lyrics. My mother stood there in front of me, confronting and accusing these kind strangers of wanting all the credits to themselves when they only wanted what we had agreed to do in the first place, co-write. Who were we to tell these people who had come all the way to Canada to work with us that we were to retain 100% song credits for songs that were masterfully reworked by these professionals. The way my mother reacted was completely embarrassing to me but I was only 18, unable to protest about the way my mother was speaking at them in such a confrontational tone. I remember standing beside my mother, tightly squeezing her hand as if my secret jolt would soften her speaking tone or make her less offensive. It was a tense moment and after that embarrassing uncomfortable confrontation, the couple who came to visit politely declined future involvement. After they left, I called them secretly to let them know that I was so happy to have had the opportunity to work them, and that I very much appreciated their time for visiting. They gingerly let me know that my mother's reaction to co-writing songs was confusing considering this was the reason they had come to work with us in the first place. They were hoping that one day I would consider working with them on my own but that the option to work with my mother was something they were no longer interested in. Completely disappointed, a few days after the production team had left and things settled, I talked with my mother about my desire to continue working with these people.... [ Continued ]
Last edited by Longtimecoming on Thu May 17, 2012 2:40 am, edited 1 time in total.
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by Longtimecoming on Sat Apr 14, 2012 6:02 am
A common phenomenon with my mother. I have long bouts of silence where I do not contact my mother at all, and those bouts usually last from one to 3 years after feeling exhausted by not getting anywhere but hurt and dragged around to the next mental health professional who again tells me that the problem lies with my mother's unhealthy expectations from me. I ignore her crazy emails, block contact, change my #, etc so that I can live in peace without having to repeat my self, and our story to the next mental health professional. All of the communication that we have done with any mental health professional thus far has been verbal so I guess this is the first time I am writhing down my plight here as I prepare for my final "reference this blog" response to any of my mother's sick emails and mail packages to me. It has been strangely therapeutic because now I know that she has a reference point she can read until A) Something clicks, she connects with something someone writes and realizes that she has to do some self healing for some of the behaviors I have described, before she can have successful relationships with family, or, B) She keeps repeating herself like a broken record, speaking for me, over me, and continues to fail to realize that there is another human being on the other line who is not going to ever understand why she did what what she did unless it's in the form of "I'm sorry that happened and I will stop this because there is an obvious problem happening here with me". The pattern I have had in the past is this. The more I agree to speak, the more I get the stalker version of my mother coming at me with emails and weird packages with barbie dolls, religious scriptures, and the like. The more I try to be truthful, open and straight forward with her, the more abstract and manipulative her messages to me become. After she is finished with compounding the fact that I was only worth $40,000 to her, I get bombarded with youtube videos and poetry insinuating that she is such a savior, a martyr, a helpless mother who just wants the best for her children. Then the cute youtube videos come. Heartfelt stories of mothers saving their babies from disfiguring physical illnesses, puppies and kittens playing with each other, and then bam, a seething email thrown in for good measure and a disturbing youtube video of a dog standing over his owner after he died. It's enough to give me nightmares and believe me it has in the past. Mom-mares happen at least once a month. On my 24th birthday during a time that I had no contact with my mother for several years, aside from sporadic, joint, and weekly 1 to 7.5 hour sessions at a psychologist's office together, I received a birthday gift wrapped and delivered by my visibly concerned brother. A gift he thought, couldn't be a bad thing right? In front of the 15 or so people who had come over for dinner that evening, I opened her gift to find a frightening mix of goods inside of a lovingly wrapped package. There were 2 cards. The first card was a funeral card with a grey silk rose attached, and inside the card she attacked me about the $40,000 I owed her while hallmark "apologized for my loss". The second card was from our family poodle terrier cross Sniffy... Sniffy on the cover of the card, wished me a happy birthday. The actual gift in the wrapping was a self help book about betrayal. The cover of the book was a frightening photo of a rabid dog jumping jaws open, at a toddler through a window. I broke in to tears. Now, after all of these posts here on this forum that my mother has been reading, I have started to receive her emails again. It sure pays to speak up with all of the valuable youtube videos I receive in response to my honest confession. How heartwarming. I can't wait to join her for therapist #9. This will never happen. From: Name <@shaw.ca> Subject: Mothers are all the same. Date: April 13, 2012 10:18:13 PM MDT To: name@hotmail.com... [ Continued ]
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by Longtimecoming on Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:45 pm
I don't claim that my mother suffers from NPD as I am not a qualified professional, but many of the traits I have been reading about on this forum have resembled our situation very closely. As I see it from my mother's point of view, her problems with me revolve around my ungratefulness towards her "gifts". The main cause of our argument 13 years ago is detailed above and doesn't exactly involve a gift per say (more of a business), but it does involve something that was given to me (without me being made aware of the fine print) and then expected to be returned before I was allowed to have a relationship with my mother again. The terms of the gift left my family devastated and most members are now alienated from my mother and father who are not interested in seeing the perspective from the other side of the coin. My mother wants me to apologize for my selfishness, come to her door bowing my head, and agree to various assessments and treatments for ailments which my mother has studied at great length. As described in my original blog post, as a child I happily went along to singing lessons, music recording trips, etc. As a young adult I started to feel uncomfortable with some of the behaviors my mother was displaying around me, and around other people we were working with. I wanted freedom, I wanted out, and my mother wanted $40,000. The only agreement I remember making with her was when I was 18. We agreed verbally (and almost on paper with a lawyer) that mom's investment would have to be returned if we ever made any money from the music we had made together (think the Judds here). We never did make any money, yet I was made to feel that I now owed my mother this money. After the sheer trauma of loosing my family to this $40,000, I had a very hard time accepting true gifts from people or even good will or a helping hand when I needed it. It took a long time for me to feel comfortable accepting gifts or generosity from anyone. At one point in my 20's in between a jobs, I would rather have starved than have to ask someone for a sandwich, and I did. Luckily that time didn't last too long and because I was so determined not to have to ask. I worked like a crazy person to make sure I never had to repeat that IOU feeling again. Aside from the obvious pseudo gift I have focused on in this blog, when I think back there were other "gifts" relating to my mother that had equally uncomfortable terms. Take my 18th birthday for example. For weeks prior to my birthday I had some knowledge that something awesome was coming together thanks to my brother who wouldn't tell me exactly what was going on, but happily hinted watching me squirm with excitement. When the day actually arrived, we had reserved a table at Boston Pizza where my mother, (can't recall if my father was there), brother, a female friend, and a music producer/friend of my mother and I were in attendance. All of us had a really great time together that evening eating pizza and happily chatting the night away. When it came to the "gift" portion of the birthday evening, my brother had put together a scavenger hunt, hiding little notes and clues behind plants in the restaurant that eventually led me upstairs to the lounge where a brand new $800 condenser microphone was waiting with the bartender. I was beyond thrilled and my mind raced with the possibilities of a whole new way of recording songs. I was completely blown away. After the tears and gratitude I was made aware that our producer friend contributed $200 towards the microphone, and my mother contributed the rest of the $500 for the purchase. I was beyond grateful to both of them and carried the mic case around like a baby. Shortly after receiving the gift I started working with a few musicians on my own time. We paid for a few recording sessions and I was excited to use the my new vocal instrument! When I went to take it with me to a recording session my mother stopped me as I was leaving and... [ Continued ]
Last edited by Longtimecoming on Sat Apr 14, 2012 2:20 am, edited 4 times in total.
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