When you find yourself in stark disagreement with something someone says
you may ask yourself,
can what I believe
what they believe
both be true at the same time?
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I was telling a friend of mine the story of how my father married my mother because she looked good in his Chevy convertible. I said that I must be his punishment for marrying my mother based on her looks. My father is a likeable, working class, warm funny guy. Having such a weirdo for a daughter must have been karmic retribution of some kind. My weidness was his punishment.
Without missing a beat my friend said, "Lisa, you're not a punishment. You're nobody's punishment."
The look on my face must have shown that I was rejecting his kindness like it was bitter medicine. He started imitating me, or rather my facial expression, by saying in Lisa-voice "nope nope not letting that in, nope"
It was funny and cute but scary at the same time.
Do I really see myself as a "punishment"?
That's terribly sad.
I've bought into the negative things people have said about me and let the positive things slide as if they were said out of politeness rather than sincerity.
Can this set of negative beliefs be changed?
Worse than believing I'm a punishment is the possibility that I'll be a self-fulfilling prophecy and become one.
That would be even sadder.
Monday, April 21, 2014
we all believed that it was in our power
I was kinda weird socially. Weird people need to be put in their place, right? They need to know that they're socially unacceptable. They have to be kept outside the center of the herd, on the margins. Even the authority figures who are supposed to protect kids from being bullied turned a blind eye to the systematic abuse I suffered. And because my mother was belligerent and unreasonable no one alerted her to my situation because she was too difficult to deal with, nor did anyone inquire as to what might be going on at home to have caused me to be so undersocialized.
The authority figures at school also used the classic line, "You must have done something to provoke them."
It was always my fault.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
when his eyes met mine,
the moment when he made me realize that he loved me.
he quoted Pope Francis who asked us today to remember that first time when we knew the Lord Jesus loved us.
I do remember.
I remember singing "Jesus Loves me this I know, For the Bible tells me so, Little ones to Him belong, They are weak but he is strong, Yeeees Jesus loves me!"
at the age of four. I'm not sure I fully understood the words, but I sang them with gusto.
Then in Sunday school the pastor told us that Jesus loves us so much he knows the number of hairs on our heads. He said that even we don't know how many hairs we have on our head, imagine the Lord loves us so much that he knows even what we don't know about ourselves.
That made an impression on me. I couldn't imagine being loved like that. Jesus must love me very much to care enough to know the most miniscule details about me. I believed it, but I didn't know how to feel it.
Tonight at mass I was moved to think on that again. The Lord loves me so much, He knows the number of hairs on my head. He forgives my most minuscule sins and gives me the freedom to start over again, to be born again in the hope that I will be moved to righteousness.
Righteousness is His commandment as found in the Book of Matthew reads:
That is the righteousness that I strive for. To love all the way up to God, through others, and then back down to myself. It's an easy route. Jesus blazed the trail all the way up then back to me. I just have to follow.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Not everyone will understand.
Not everyone will agree with your sharing your experiences publicly.
Not everyone will have sympathy.
You'll be accused of being ungrateful, of airing your dirty laundry, of exaggerating your suffering, or you're told to just get over it.
Nevertheless, don't stay silent.
Hear yourself speak out loud. You lived through something real. You can't get healing and support if you don't acknowledge the wound. Find a group online or one that meets live.
I blog and vlog. I need to externalize this pain so the wounds can heal. They need the air.
I will overcome the isolation and shame.
I'm not done speaking.
I am the daughter of a mother with NPD. At 49 years of age I am still piecing my heart and mind after an emotionally difficult childhood. Being the parent to one's parent is difficult. When that parent doesn't even know the pain they're causing the isolation, shame, and emotional burden can be devastating to the child.
Here is a video blog I made yesterday after a difficult time with my mother.
or click below
For more information on mothers with NPD go to http://parrishmiller.com/narcissists.html