Brainwashed

Social worker Leroy Dissing (and unofficial-therapist&supporter-to-the-Triad) left this comment yesterday that couldn't be more timely or more accurate:

"One thing I have noticed with children of narcissistic parents is that their children, even into adulthood, stay attached to their parents (albeit unhealthfully) as part of a gigantic, impossible effort to please them. I think it is part of a child abuse syndrome because in reality the parents have emotionally neglected/damaged the child into thinking their entire self-worth exists soley on meeting the needs of the parents. This makes creating their own individual identity extremely difficult because they very themselves as so enmeshed with their parents that normal, healthy separation rarely, if ever, occurs. A very sad legacy to leave your children but one they are totally oblivious to and thus, never feel accountable for."

Vowing to emotionally detach from a self-absorbed, using "charent" (child/parent) is easier than actually achieving emotional detachment.

My adoptive father takes up such a big place in my head that I'm sure if an autopsy is ever done the doctor will find that my brain has a special lobe bearing my father's name.

It doesn't matter that I can't STAND the man and have done my best to put as much distance as possible between us. It doesn't matter that I've read piles of self-help books on the subject. It doesn't matter that I've talked to my therapist ad nauseum about the subject. It doesn't matter that I see my a-father with open eyes: an 80-year old man who was physically abused and neglected as a child so that he grew up with an insatiable need for attention that drives away everyone who meets him. Except me. As the only child and as the ONLY person in his life, I am his caretaker now that he has dementia.

Knowing all his faults and how he's negatively impacted my life, every day I call him. If I'm running five minutes late, I begin to fret. He's going to be upset. If I don't call he's going to have one of his retaliatory hypochondrical attacks and the assisted living facility is going to call me every ten minutes until I pick up.

Today, I'm feeling defensive that I haven't rushed out and bought him a razor and chocolate covered raisins that he asked for Sunday night and it's Tuesday morning. The fact that I didn't rush out first thing Monday is a big improvement. Since his request is not an emergency, I'm forcing myself to wait until Wednesday to go the special store some distance away when it's more convenient. The delay makes me nervous. Guilty.

Such is the brainwashing at the hands of narcissistic parents. Them first. Them, them, them. Resisting takes an emormous effort, even when you know you need to do this for yourself. They are always present in your mind, looming. What will it be like when he's dead? Will I feel relieved? My fear is that he's commandeered such a big chunk of ME that I may feel like an amputee. A horrible thought.

Leroy brought up an interesting point.

Separating - individuating - from a narcissistic parent is impossible in the way that healthy young adults separate from healthy parents.

So true!

You escape at the first chance, running for the door, amid accusations that you are abandoning them and predictions that you will fail miserably in your selfish quest for independence. There are no tears of farewell at the dorm room and cautions to be careful, instead there is clinging and high drama. Once, in my college years, I landed an internship that brought me back to L.A. where my-parents lived. I didn't tell them. I pretended I was still up North. Living with or near them meant one thing: I would be at their beck and call or there would be hell to pay: refusal to see them on their terms meant the inevitable, "Don't you see what you're putting us through" Big Scene which usually ended with my a-father having some mysterious ailment that required a trip to the emergency room.

Being the child of a narcissist is like living with a chronic illness. You try to live with the problem, on your terms, and not for it, but it's a daily challenge.