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After a busy day at work, planning out some things in my life, and taking care of my kids, I chose to take a day to reflect upon the days events.
Triggered
The noise behind the wall became impatient. Triggered by some of the days events, the thoughts of “No one understands” began to run wild. Fortunately, I know that no one can possible understand what I had been through, except for maybe my family, but even their experiences of events could be different.
I tried to connect with my youngest inner child to ask if she was holding up with all the chaos. Immediately, an angry, unruly inner being confronted me and was up in my face screaming inaudible words. My anxiety spiked. This was not the experience I expected when I connected to my young inner self.
Eventually, the anger relaxed as I tried to calm it by repeatedly explaining that, of course, no one understands. Of course, no one ever will, but that’s okay. Just because a person does not understand, does not mean a person does not care.
Realization
No matter who you are and what you have experienced, no person will ever know what you felt. Even if a person experiences similar emotions, has similar life events, it does not change the fact that their reaction and understanding will not be the same as yours. Your own understanding of events can change over time, morph into demons or become so distant in the mind that we barely remember it occurred.
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Today, while I was at work I began to feel anxiety. I had been lethargic all weekend. I needed to find out what was going on.
Earlier this morning, my inner child and I painted the wall vibrantly in many colors and patterns. In doing so , the anxiety temporarily subsided, but got gradually louder as the day progressed.
The Voice
After I picked up my daughter from daycare, I connected with my inner child on the way home. I asked her if she would go with me to the wall. She agreed.
As we approached the wall I began to sense what was on the other side. Anger, fear, confusion, and discontent emanated from the steel prison.
I wait. I listen. I feel.
At last comes a voice. “How could you understand? No one ever understands!”
Thoughts of the Past
I begin to decipher what this statement means and come to the conclusion that it must be related to my high school years. During those years, I had several friends that did not believe my mother could be this horrible monster I described.
My friends never saw her rage, gas lighting, extortionism, guilt tripping, and downright cruelty. Acts saved for the people closest to her, the ones that did not do as she asked, the ones that choose to shine light onto her black heart.
One day during the summer after I graduated from high school, I came home to a door with different locks. I climbed through the window, scraped my arm, and went to bed. Later on, she told me she did not expect me to break in and that she purposely locked me out. Somehow I ended up with a key, probably because she realized if I left she would lose her supply.
The Rebel
Being the defiant “brat” that I am, her words, I never shied away from telling her secrets. Defiance was not a choice. It was a journey to myself. I began living up to the unruly person she kept describing me as.
Her own power stripped by her own words!
As a young adult, I was forced to have long hair. When I was 18, I decided to chop it all off. It felt AMAZING and free. I no longer fit the persona she had been attempting to mold me into. I finally got to choose something about my own body!
Reflecting on the Future
The wall holds several keys to my success. Amazing parts of me such as my silliness and my desire to control everything in my life. Letting go of the wall will release my desires to control and my silliness. I know that by breaking down this wall of steel I will bloom and flourish in this life and hopefully the next.
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If you are asking yourself this question then you are most likely not a narcissist.
Narcissistic traits like being controlling, being unable to relax, acting different in public versus at home, and having trouble admitting mistakes can all be present in those who are not narcissists. It does not mean you are narcissistic. Instead, you learned how to be human from a narcissist.
I once confronted my mother about her narcissism. See my post here that explains the events leading up to the confrontation.
Why do I worry about being a narcissist?
As a parent, I sometimes lose my patience with my kids, my anxiety spikes and I lash out. Afterwards, I am overcome with immediate guilt and fear that I am just like my mother.
I see many similarities in my mother and myself which does not mean I am a narcissist. She is a person after all and people at their cores share many similarities
Why does anxiety feel like narcissism?
Anxiety.
Anxiety is the biggest factor in why I feel narcissistic sometimes. My anxiety builds actually mimics narcissistic behaviors.
I used to be severely controlling of every aspect of my life. I was unable to relax, alert to every possible problem that could arise. Anxiety made me feel the need to control everything.
If I was not in control ,then something bad was surely going to happen. If things did not work out as expected, I got angry. This totally feels like narcissism and the calm before the storm.
Why do I act differently in public than at home?
At home you are in your comfort zone, you feel comfortable showing your family everything, including anger.
When I was young, I learned to behave differently at home than I did in the public eye. My mother dressed up with full make up to go to the grocery store. She could not be seen unless she presented herself this way.
My mother acted completely different to friends than she did to us. There were times she would cook expensive meals for her friends and leave us with boxed mac and cheese for dinner. I too picked this up as a behavioral norm but have since realized my family comes first.
The hardest thing I learned growing up was that the approval of others defined me and if someone did not like me that reflected badly on my mother. I have since learned that if someone does not like the person that I truly am, they do not belong in my life.
Why do I have trouble admitting my mistakes?
There are so many things that do not go right everyday. When a mistake is made by a person it does not immediately mean they are inherently bad. That person is learning. Mistakes make us better people unless the mistake is made by someone whose main focus has been to be seen as perfect to avoid any backlash from their toxic parent.
When you are constantly told to be an ever changing definition of perfect, mistakes become a huge problem. The perfection sought is never reachable and morphs every second. The problem with admitting mistakes is that you are now no longer living up to the standards you think other people have for you. Standards that do not matter, but are overpowering in your daily life.
Healing
Once you understand yourself and how anxiety and your upbringing can mimic narcissism you can then begin to heal. Be more compassionate to yourself and to the experiences that make up the life you had as a child. No one is perfect and we all need to know that who we are is not defined by others.
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Will she be like me?
My biggest fear is that my daughter will end up like me.
I don’t mean the good parts of me like my genuine heart, kindness, friendliness, creativity, and determination. If she inherits these traits, I would be very proud.
I fear she will question herself. I fear she will not know her worth. I fear she will be abused. I fear she will think she is not enough. I fear she will seek perfection in her life. I fear she will think she is not beautiful. I fear she will try to make others happy before herself.
Will she be close to me?
In my family, there are at least four generations of strained mother and daughter relationships. I do not speak to my mother or grandmother. My mother only speaks to her mother when it suits her needs. My grandmother never spoke highly of my great grandmother.
I fear that she will grow up and leave just as many generations of daughters have; just like I have to protect myself and my family. What if I fail her as a mother and she feels the need to separate from me? Does this mean the cycle of abuse was not broken
My Wish
Baby girl,
I wish you peace, love, and happiness. I hope you see your beauty, inside and out. I hope you make time for yourself and take care of your needs first.
You are a blessing.
Your name means “bright shining light” and I hope that light burns bright within you. You are more than enough.
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A Mission
After my inner child healed, see my inner warrior and my building a safe space posts, I assumed that was it. I had defeated the evil within me and I would go on living my life with much more clarity and calm.
Several days after healing my inner child I began to feel anxiety. I connected with her to ask if there was anything bothering her. I found her planting flowers, as I mentioned in my building a safe space post. She was perfectly calm and happy. Perplexed, I asked her if she knew where the anxiety was coming from; she did not.
I decided to leave and retreat back to reality. When the anxiety got louder, I again went to my inner child. I asked her if she would be willing to try to find the source of the anxiety.
My Heart
My inner child told me the anxiety is coming from my heart. I asked her if she knew where. She did not know, but was willing to look for me. She packed up her bag and went looking for the source.
Deeper and deeper into my heart she went, before she stopped. In front of her was a gigantic steel wall; it had no doors, seams or any other openings.
I asked her if she knew what was behind the wall. She felt extreme anger emanating from the other side, but did not understand many of the emotions and feelings she could sense. All she could feel was anger.
I thanked her and told her she could go back to planting her flowers.
Suppressed Emotions
As I examined this wall, I began to notice the anger, frustration, and confusion within.
I discovered suppressed traits of my personality that were trapped behind a steel wall in order to fit into the persona my mother destined me to be. Hidden so that people will possibly like me; who would like the real me?
My feelings regarding the sexual abuse I have endured by a cousin, a neighbor, and a friend are trapped behind the wall.
Future Work
This story is unfinished and needs to be written. My therapist believes that there may be an older inner child behind the wall that needs to go on her own healing journey.
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The decision to break NC is one that should be thought through and all the pros and cons weighed. Breaking NC means that all the toxicity will return; it may not be immediate if the toxic individual is in the love-bombing stage. If you are not prepared for this then simply do not contact the individual.
When regaining contact with the toxic parent, they will assume that you are speaking to them again because a blanket of forgiveness has fallen over them; we are friends again!
There are other reasons to break contact such as a death in the family and other circumstances but those must be evaluated on a case by case basis.
Why is staying NC so hard?
I did not go to my cousins funeral last year (2018); I was still healing. My cousin was survived by several siblings. After reading the condolences, I realized people were not extending condolences to his siblings, but rather to my mother. To keep myself safe , I chose not to go despite the guilt I felt for not honoring his passing properly.
I was also not prepared to answer questions regarding my decision to go NC with my mother from other family members. Most family members don’t see the truth or they have been told lies by the toxic person that they believe. One of the hardest parts is just ignoring them and letting your truth shine through.
Society has a way of guilting you into talking to your toxic family members again. See my post here about why you can feel guilty going NC in the first place.
Going NC can also be difficult when all you have known is chaos. When the chaos dissipates, you are left with nothing. Nothing feels weird. You begin to question the nothingness and whether or not nothing means that something is right around the corner. Anxiety spikes and fear drives your body into fight or flight more.
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Deciding to go NC(no contact) is a huge step in regaining control over your life. It can bring peace. With that peace, anxiety and fear can surface. Fear that the person you are no longer speaking to will lash out at you in some grand way. Fear, that they will spread lies about you, or fear that things are simply calm. Who are we kidding, when has life been calm?
Why do kids make going NC harder?
Having kids really changes the guilt factor when you go NC. People post things on social media about how the adult ego should be disregarded so that children can see their families.
Family is just a word. Just because a person carried you in their body, sorta kept you alive, and sometimes gave you food does not mean they are family. And under no circumstances should a person be subject to the mental mind games of a toxic individual.
Family are loving people that enrich our lives and genuinely care about how we feel. When we feel down, they are there to help us back up, not dig us further into the dark.
My children do not deserve to be treated the way I was. Until I realized the cause of all my anxiety and depression, I fell into the trap of allowing my mother and grandmother to see my son. That was a mistake.
My mother used information from conversations with my grandmother to get information. It was then that I realized I had to sever ties with both. Not just for myself but for my kids. My kids needed to l know that no matter who the person is, they have the right to stand up to them. Even if that person is “family.”
Why do people want me to talk to a toxic person?
Many people will actually try to convince you to speak to your toxic parent. Those that seek to do this have no ill intent. Their naivety actually plays with the guilt we are already feeling within us.
Guilt is intertwined with our trust in ourselves and our trust in our decisions. Many times a toxic parent will undermine your feelings, ideas, and memory in an attempt to keep control. What many people do not realize is that by suggesting that we talk to the toxic parent, they are pulling at every one of those emotions within us. Part of us feels obligated to comply with their request, whether it be out of fear or guilt.
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Self Doubt
Apart from normal mom guilt that everyone experiences, I have endured guilt from unknown sources within me. It makes me question every decision., listen to those that doubt me and use their doubts as fuel to guilt myself. The cycle of guilt ran rampant in my heart and I had several mood swings and outbursts.
Fear
When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter I was initially excited because we already have a son. That excitement faded to fear. Fear that she would become like I am. Fear that I would not be able to break the cycle of abuse. Fear that one day she may never talk to me again. Fear that I would hurt her the way others have hurt me.
Anger
Parenting after childhood trauma made me angry. Before I had kids, I was carefree. Now, I felt trapped. I was angry for not being able to take care of my children as well as other mom’s do. I was angry for not keeping the house as clean as I thought it should be. I was angry when my children defied me. I was angry with life. Everything made me angry and I felt like I was stuck in a repetitive cycle where days turned into weeks which turned to months. I did not take care of myself and felt obligated to do more for others than I should have.
Worthlessness
My son used to be all about Daddy. He loves Daddy. At some point my mind twisted the love of my son into a competition against my husband. I would get angry, feel useless and think there was no point to my existence in this family. I thought everyone would be happier if I lived somewhere else and did not come back.
How to fix it?
In order to get rid of the anger, the fear, the self doubt, the worthlessness and obtain peace, I have trudge through the dark places in my heart. For an example, see my post about the battle my youngest inner child endured.
This has been the hardest yet most fulfilling part of my life. I have been in therapy, in EMDR therapy, temporarily taken mood stabilizers and taken time to take care of myself.
The only way to get better is to go through it and shed light on the dark places of your heart.
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In life there are always moments that define us or change us. One of these moments came as I was preparing to go back to work after having my daughter. While I was at my 6 week appointment, I scored really high on the scale for postpartum depression. It was a ten question multiple choice questionnaire. Doctors highly encouraged me to go to crisis, despite going to therapy my entire pregnancy and before, plans to return to EMDR therapy, and appointments in place to seek mood stabilizers. My talk therapist never sent me to crisis as she did not think I was a danger to myself or anyone else. The doctor sent me because of a potential liability and a point system designed to help. In this case, it did not serve its purpose.
In the Crisis Ward
My husband came to the office, picked up our daughter and took me to the emergency room. Security took my cell phone. I changed into a scrub like outfit. All contact with the outside world was severed. The place was hectic. My bed was in the hallway. A doctor stopped to take my vitals and ask me some questions. As we talked, I shared I had anxiety being there due to my ex-boyfriends experience. Doctors tied my ex down. Gave him an injection to sedate him and made me leave the ward. He was like a zombie and sleeping for days. He ensured me that those things hardly ever happen. A nurse gave me some water but I missed out on lunch since it was now 2pm. I had not eaten since I planned on grabbing something on the way home from my appointment. By this point I was starving.
Avoiding Contact
While waiting in the hallway, others tried to speak to me. The person on the stretcher next to me was talking to herself about murder and alien abductions. One woman walked by me and tried to get my attention. She pulled up her shirt to show me her bruises. She indicated the bruises were given to her by personnel in crisis. I made a point to avoid all eye contact and avoid any interaction with anyone there.
After some time passed, several people were released or transported to other facilities. A nurse offered me a room where it would be more quiet. I took the offer and finally broke down and cried.
At some point I started hearing yelling and a commotion. A man and a woman arrived. They started energizing each other. Police or security took the man to a room, strapped him down and sedated him. The one thing assured never happens, happened. My anxiety went up at that point. The woman was still in the hallway and kept asking for her glasses, among other things. She kept indicating she didn’t belong there and asked repeatedly if she was in a sanitarium. It was after some time that I had to give up the room and go back to the hallway to avoid a riot. She repeatedly yelled and refused to calm down.
Another woman arrived and nurses locked her in her room. She was banging on the door and screaming. The door was two feet from my bed in the hallway.
After some time a young boy went home. It broke my heart to see someone so young there. I moved to his room. The woman that was yelling in the hallway was in the room next to me and kept yelling about her glasses.
At some point I feel like being in that place would actually drive me insane! I begin to question if I am I really like these people. I begin to question the system and how it has now failed me.
I realized that the possibility of staying the night increased. Very upset, I started thinking about all the things I do with my kids at night before bed. I miss my family more than I ever have. After dinner, everyone got quiet, so I asked for the phone to call my husband. He picked up, thank god! I was glad to hear a familiar voice and know my kids were doing alright but missed me. He told me he spoke to a counselor and they asked him some questions.
Going Home
Shortly after that, the counselor came to speak to me and get some insights. She told me she talked to my husband and really saw no reason for me to be there. The time was now past 9pm. I called my husband to arrange for pick up. Finally, after 7 hours, I could go home.
7 hours. 7 hours of fear. 7 hours of anxiety. 7 hours of my life I will never get back. 7 hours to think about my priorities. 7 hours to decide I would never return to that place. 7 hours to decide to never let my anxiety and depression control me anymore. 7 hours to become stronger. 7 hours that showed me that darkness can lead to light.
