I visited my parents this weekend (Easter). Having broken the glass of the narcissistic abuse, standing on the other side looking back at the whole thing was interesting, sad and still very frustrating. "We weren't very good parents" actually slipped out of my mothers mouth during dinner.
She has bad hearing which is very suitable for her. There is almost no way to speak to her without yelling, which eliminates the possibility of talking about anything personal. Of course she refuses to get a hearing aid. It's also a great way for her to shame me for mumbling or any other derogative statement about the way I speak.
It is impossible to be assertive around my mother. The only allowed way of relating to her is to be an inanimate object. Anything beyond an infant is corrected, shamed, ignored and belittled. Anything beyond the infant is a threat to her.
There is no understanding of the pain, suffering and the work I have had to go through to be who I am today. On the contrary, she sees it as an offence. Like her way of raising me wasn't good enough. Newsflash: It wasn't.
Politics came up. She doesn't understand that she isn't objective in her reasoning. She was constantly defending her view that "there is no way of really knowing anything", which allowes her to have any opinion that suits her. Of course she is completely unaware of this. Anything I would say that challenges her view, she replied with "You're so mean!".
So her need to see me as a nothing-knowing, opinion-less, wanting-less infant is paramount. How can you be a son to a mother like that? There is nothing of me that is welcome. At the same time she insists that I visit more often. She even said that I should move there. The gap of understanding between her wants and needs and my wants and needs are undescribable. She needs me to be something that I no longer am. That something lived in my body my whole childhood and many more years. She doesn't see anything but that thing, the deeply codependent infant. She hates and fears anything but that.
The panicattacks. When I started my last job 3 years ago, I was starting to have panicattacks. The emerging emotions of being around people that were suppressed until then. A start of the eroding of the codependent false self I have been acting out around other people all those years. Becoming your true self isn't a smooth pretty enlightenment. It's a rough, dysfunctional, broken alternative accident. Maybe it will make you sane, maybe it will kill you.
My dad. He was happy to see me. He had a stroke in 2001. He can hardly walk anymore. He is almost in a zombie-state. Can hardly form a sentence. I could tell he became upset with me because I got in to arguments with mom and that I got frustrated with his lack of attempts at actually communicating with me.
They both just want everything to be nice and "as it used to be". The fact that I have suffered all those years exactly because of that, they just put out of their minds.
We were going through old photos and found a photo of me as a 11 year old. My sister called and I could hear how mom said that I was "happy old me" in that photo. Just smile and get abused! We don't want you to wake up, just smile! Just reflect back that all I do is fine!
My childhood was a bodycast of razorblades. Just lie perfectly still and you will be ok.