Our toxic relationship cycle, continued
When you start to unpack the dynamic between my mother and me, you pick out classic narcissism signs with her behavior toward me and my reactions. When I first read Will, I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Dr. Karyl McBride Ph.D. It was such an eye-opener; I highlighted pages, not passages that spoke to me or read play-by-play of specific situations that had happened between us. After reading through the book, I talked to my therapist like I think my mom is a narcissist. She said, of course, she couldn’t diagnose someone she never spoke to, but why did I feel that way? I listed my reasons. Yes, those traits are shared with someone that has Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD). As the days after the fight continues, my anger and sadness turn to acceptance, how things will continue to be like this between us. The next part of the cycle is where I start second-guessing the entire fight, start feeling guilty, and seek peace between us. I don’t want the cycle to continue; I don’t want this issue to become my kids’ issue. I was having a heart-to-heart with my mother-in-law MIFO. She couldn’t believe my mothers’ audacity and had her own words of encouragement. Suddenly the tone of the conversation got real deep. When my husband was arrested, he could have been sentenced to jail for up to 6 years. He was in our home, and his behavior became strange. I felt uncomfortable and genuinely going through the entire issue of figuring out what steps I needed to take next to keep my kids and myself safe. The next day I left in the morning with our bags packed. I went to MIFO to get my sister-in-law. She was dropping her responsibilities to help me take the kids to a waterpark out of state to getaway. Let my husband get out of the house and keep us all safe. MIFO had gone to Walmart before I got there and bought formula, diapers, toothbrushes, and deodorants. Just in case we weren’t able to grab those things. She gave me money. My inlaws aren’t rich, and she probably placed a burden on her and her family doing all of that for me. After a few days, we got back from the waterpark; my husband was still in the process of moving out. MIFO let us stay at her house, three kids and me! One is four months old. Sleepless nights for sure. They fed us and helped with all the kids when I was burnt out. After a few days, it was safe to go back home. When all this was going down, I received a lot of calls from my hysterical mother. “What are you going to do?” Well, this is his clusterfuck. I am going to divorce him and continue working and taking care of my kids as I do. “Well, how will you get the lawn mowed?” Umm.. do it myself or hire someone. Just like I did when I owned my last house for the previous 11 years. “How will you pay the mortgage?” With the money I earn at work and with my business, again just like I did when I paid for my last house and owned it outright?!? “Don’t tell anyone back home.” (Back home would be all my aunts and uncles and cousins, and maternal grandmother.) Why? “Because it’s embarrassing.” Embarrassing, to who? I didn’t commit crimes; Im not in trouble. I will not feel shame for his poor choices. “Well, just don’t post it on Facebook.” My mother bases a lot of her sense of self on being in a relationship. She has conformed and changed personalities with each boyfriend and husband. She has also picked spouses that had money. That bothered me growing up, and with a touch of childhood emotional neglect, I am fiercely independent, and I will struggle before I ask for help. I shudder to think of being beholden to a spouse because I can’t take care of myself. I need to hide packages because I use shopping to fill the void, and my spouse is paying off 30k in credit card debt to rack it up again in secret. I was standing on the sidelines all that looked sloppy and truly unfulfilling. I always wanted to be happy and satisfied on my own merits. Emotional neglect is not the same as emotional abuse; hence it is often not as apparent as abuse, and in its ability to camouflage lies its most long-lasting impact. Emotional neglect is rarely discussed because it is a product of negligence, i.e., not seeing, not knowing. It is more about what we didn’t get rather than the more dramatic and visually intact memories of what we did get in our childhood, good or bad. However, don’t be fooled by its subtle presentation; emotional neglect can have a profound and lasting impact on us far into adulthood. My Aunt commented on a family photo of my kids and me two years after my divorce. “Where’s your husband? He sure works a lot.” I privately messaged her. Umm. No lady, we got divorced two years ago; he got into legal trouble. “Oh, your mother never said a word. No one has.” My mother weekly talks to her mother and siblings. I can play devil’s advocate and say, of course, she didn’t tell people about my divorce; it was depressing and highly private. She was trying to protect me from harsh criticism or weird blowback. She could not fly to Iowa to help me with the kids or encourage me during this challenging time because she had other obligations (bingo, dancing and social hour, the drinking club). She did not know what to say or how to help. She could have loaned me money to help stretch the stopgap in my savings, but I never asked for a loan. From experience, her reaction to my emotionally distraught state is
