Our toxic relationship cycle
It has been about two weeks since the blow-up with my mother. It has the classic earmark of falling into the cycle of our toxic relationship. Build up –> Explosion (fight) –> Silent Treatment (Stonewalling) –> Nothing Happened (gaslights and blameshifting). However, I feel different this time. • It’s okay to let go of a toxic parent. Choosing to have no contact with a parent is difficult, but it could be one of the most important. Humans are wired to connect, even with people who don’t deserve to be connected to us. Sometimes though, the only way to stop the disease from spreading is to amputate. It doesn’t matter how much you love some people, and they are broken to the point that they will only keep damaging you from the inside out. You’re not responsible for them or the state of your relationships with them, and you are under no obligation to keep lining yourself up to be abused, belittled, shamed, or humiliated. Healing starts with expecting more for yourself, and you’re the only person who can make that decision. • And it’s okay not to. Don’t be harsh on yourself if you stay in the relationship. The act of returning to an abusive relationship can trigger self-loathing. ‘Why aren’t I strong enough?’ Know that loyalty is such an admirable trait, even if it gets in the way of your capacity to protect yourself. Own where you are and give yourself full permission to be there. Accept that for now, this is where you’re at, and fully experience what that’s like for you. You’ll never love yourself enough to change your expectations if you’re flogging yourself for not being strong enough. It takes tremendous strength to keep walking into a relationship that you know is going to hurt you. When you’re ready, you’ll make a move to do something differently. For now, though, wherever you are is okay. There is that windup of emotions, each taking potshots at each other, escalating the toxicity until it becomes the knock-down, drag-out fight. Where I usually sit on the fence of you, sorry to say but you are bitter, an unhappy woman who is jealous that I went further in life than you ever have. (Honest barebone opinions told without care or compassion, without padding.) She sticks to her barebone opinions of me, Im crazy, dramatic, ungrateful, ridiculous, or childish, and my children will be taken away from me by DHS. The second I get off the phone, this emotional tidal wave hits. I am immediately on the phone, unloading to anyone that will listen. Everyone! I complain and release until that anger and sadness drains away. Call up the therapist; I need help unpacking this. Once that balloon deflates, I feel empty exhaustion takes hold. Day by day, I deconstruct the entire conversation putting every shitty thing I said in a box and every shitty thing she said in a box. I list topics I should have explained better or questions about certain statements she said. It is the constant unease when I am reliving and reexperiencing that fight. Then the silent treatment. The silent treatment is an adult tantrum. Just like a toddler who throws a fit when she doesn’t get what she wants, a narcissistic mother gives you the silent treatment in an attempt to control you. It’s also a form of punishment. And what do you know? Your mother is the queen of silent treatments, and it’s her favorite instrument of control. Assert yourself, get out of line, challenge her sainthood — and you’re dead to her. That’s why they call it a “mental murder.” A narcissistic mother “kills” you in her mind, communicating that nothing you say or do matters and that you don’t exist to her anymore. The worst part is, at some point, other family members (a.k.a. “the flying monkeys”) will get involved and start putting pressure on you to give in and apologize. As we sit in our corners waiting for me to break, weeks and months will pass. When the conversations pick back up again, everything will be like it was before the fight. I usually have never felt satisfied by the let’s pretend we didn’t scream horrible things at each other game. So I bring the base of the argument up, and her response fluctuates between gaslighting or blameshifting. Expressing your feelings to your mother is a healthy habit, especially in response to something she said that you found hurtful; emotional communication is good. According to family therapist Dawn Friedman, M.S.Ed., it’s considered gaslighting if a parent pushes back and says you’re sensitive when you express that their words or actions hurt your feelings. “In healthy relationships, people will listen to us when we have a problem with the way they’re communicating.” Since the narcissist isn’t interested in what you feel or think—or making things better between you, for that matter—the game of hot potato will work to your disadvantage, especially if you care about them. You will probably feel guilty—”She wasn’t wrong, I was angry”—until the moment in time when you have an epiphany and finally get it. While there are some one-offs, if I apologize for losing my temper, she will apologize for losing hers as well. The issues that started the fight, things said during the conflict, are put in a box, never to see the light of day again. And repeat. One of the wind-down conversations I was having with my friend put some new thoughts into my perspective. I was winding up on the subject of why I thought sending SDL to an older couple for the rest of the year was a bad idea, and re-referencing all the points I had made to my mother midway through my tirade MO stops me. Hey, hey, you don’t have to explain yourself and prove to me why you made the decision you did. You’re the mother; you made a choice; she should have respected that boundary and
