I've been meaning to write about the jealousy of a narcissistic mother, but couldn't figure out how to write it without sounding ... weird.
I mean, what sort of person writes about a jealous person?
Aren't the narcissists the ones who think the world wants to be like them?
After much thought, I think that, no, narcissists aren't thinking so much the world wants to be like them .... Rather, a narcissist wants to the world to be like her. There's a difference. And if you happen to be unlike them and have the misfortune of being related to them, you will pay dearly.
An N mother wants to ruin whatever makes you happy. They do not want you to be happy unless they are the supreme cause of your happiness and, even then, they would only allow you to be that happy because it implies that they have made you happy. Nothing and no one else must make you happy. Why? Because that means they don't own your feelings. And it means that you have a life outside them. And, worst of all, it means that they are not the almighty ones who dish out happiness to their poor subjects.
So, if you have, say, a life outside the narcissist, she will try to obliterate everything else in your life that brings you joy or peace or a sense of worth. Not because they will want to bring you joy or peace or a sense of worth---hell, no, they don't want to waste time with the likes of you----but just because they cannot bear for anyone to be happy without them.
They will whisper rumors about it.
A nice job? They will piss on it.
Good friends? They will badmouth them.
Whatever you have is what they will destroy because they cannot bear to think that a child that they have borne has the audacity to actually be a separate human being.
And the penalty for being a separate human being is that a narcissist mother will do everything possible to destroy that feeling of separation and do their worst to keep you, not as a person in their life, but a prop to use, a pet to adore them, a sidekick to make them look good.
Here's just a quick list of what I value that my narcissist mother sought to claim or destroy in my life: (I won't list the obvious, which, of course, is my entire being. As all ACoNs know, that is not an exaggeration. A malignant narcissist mother's entire goal is the destruction of her child's personality.)
She just is a horrible, horrible shrew.
My mother hates all my friends. She never liked the ones I had and pretty much sabotaged all my chances of hanging out with friends then.
As an adult, I was told repeatedly by her that I was a loner and had no friends. She'd say, "this is why you have no friends. People think you're cold and distant and judgmental. You're a snob." The fact that I actually had some awesome friends seemed to completely skip her.
She couldn't bear that I have friends, and she always bitched and moaned about mine, even though she didn't know them.
my job: When I didn't work and was a full stay-at-home, my mother always mourned the fact that my college degree was wasted, and she told me how I would be unfulfilled as a person. I found a job that I love, and she told me that it was a shame that I had to work.
She is always stressed out, pissed, and a wreck about her job and never wanted to be what she is. I actually work exactly as what I always wanted to be, even as a child, and she hates that. She hates me for liking what I do.
Despite the confessional-style, rambling prose of this blog, I hope you believe me when I say that I write well, and I write for a living. It's a natural talent that needed years and years of work. You don't just suddenly know how to write. I've spent my entire life working on this craft, and I'm still learning.
But my mom always took credit for it. You're a writer because I'm a writer. I always wanted to be a writer. My mother wrote as a teenager. In my entire life, I never saw her write one line of fiction, be it a poem or story, or nonfiction, neither an article or report or op-ed piece. And yet, she always took credit for my writing.
It's so strange and sick how a narcissist can really work everything you love, people, things, etc. to hurt you.
When we were little, my sister and I were so close. But my mom played us against one another. She always told her to be like me, and she told me to tell her what to do.
I love to make stuff. And I've always made stuff for my friends. I never made anything for my mom because I felt like she would be dismissive. However, this past year, she stepped up her demands and pleas for something, so I made her several paintings and crafts. At her request. Everything ended up in the attic.
I'd consider myself a good friend, and she'd remind me of the unhealthy friends that I dumped because of their narcissistic behavior and make me feel like shit.
It's all so ridiculous, isn't it?
I'm a creative person, a writer, with a happy life. Nothing is easy. I'm broke. I struggle a lot. But my mom could just never let me be. She wasn't happy enough fucking up my childhood ... She wanted to fuck up the rest of my life, too.
It just doesn't make sense. I've written this all down to "process it". I need to write it down to process it. To remind myself that I've not hallucinated all this crazy, crazy shit. My friend asked me the other day, "But I just don't understand why she would be like that. I believe you completely. Absolutely one-hundred percent. But I'm trying to wrap my mind around why someone would treat their child like this, anyone like this."
