Attaching to the Narcissistic Parent

My aging narcissistic a-father called to ask that I send him more of his favorite candy. Immediately. So there it sits on my kitchen counter. I may get around to mailing it today. Or maybe not. It's my little act of revenge for what happened when I was ten. And basically, for ruining my third decade.

Let's start with my thirties and work backward...in bullet points...because who has time?

--after emotionally and financially cutting me off because I decided to go away to college instead of staying home, a-mom develops Alzheimers when I'm 30;
--a-dad and family try to pressure me into personally caretaking rapidly declining a-mom (while also caring for toddlers?); I refuse but manage a-mom's care and find caretaker;
--massive guilt sets-in; I develop severe hypochondria and suffer from anxiety attacks
--a-mom dies; I now become a-dad's caretaker, which really isn't any different from before because he's a flaming narcissist
--a-dad develops dementia; the beginning of my (fucked) forties

So here's where the damned candy comes in.

When I was ten, I stayed in the hospital after doctors removed a suspicious cyst on my forehead. I stayed alone. A-mom was upset and worried and "couldn't take it" and it was more relaxing with her out of the picture.

But here's the new information: a-dad told me that he and a-mom ARGUED over this. The nurse invited a-mom to stay overnight in the extra bed and a-mom REFUSED, saying there was no way she was going to spend the night in a hospital because it was too uncomfortable, boring, etc., and that he could stay if he wanted to. (He didn't) Then she left in a huff.

Now this may not sound like that big of a deal.

But it is.

Obviously, my self-absorbed mother wasn't all that attached to me because otherwise wild horses couldn't have dragged her from my side. Looking back, her comfort and convenience pretty much trumped my needs every time. It was my job to make her happy, not the other way around. She did a lot of fussing over my selfish ways, ingratitude, cold heart, failure to pay homage to the Maternal Goddess, but her expectations far exceeded my ability to produce the necessary demonstrations of affection.

Because it's hard to love a parent when you know, deep in your heart, that they don't love you. Not really. They love the idea of you.

When I was young, I got little.

Then I was expected to give and give and give.

And now that I figured this out, I can't believe I wasted an ENTIRE DECADE feeling guilty for not giving more of myself when my a-mom really, truly didn't care much about me. This realization is pretty awful. So horrible and terrible that when I figured it out, I just sort of fell apart earlier this week. But it's what I always suspected.

I wish people like my a-mom would just remain childless and not try to adopt and make the lives of already once abandoned children a misery...subjecting them to the double whammy of a two mother abandonment.