Can't Shut Up, Feel Like A Narcissist???

[plantsandworms]

I talk openly about my trauma/healing work all the time. Even when it was happening, I would tell "funny" stories about the chaos in my childhood to the other kids at school (it kept people from bullying me and turned my experiences into social currency, something useful). Pretty much all my friends and some of my coworkers know my "story" or at least the highlights. I write openly about aspects my trauma/healing on social media when I'm feeling triggered, because I feel like it helps me bring it into the light and not be ashamed. I write poems about it, essays. I go to trauma groups (or on this forum) and speak about it with others.

Honestly I'm sick of hearing myself. Sometimes when I'm talking or writing about my trauma, it feels like a faucet I can't figure out how to shut off. I get mad at myself for being so self absorbed that it's all I think about. I get mad at myself for giving everyone the "TMI" version of everything, of being unable to edit myself for my context. I get mad at myself for how eager I am to talk in cry in therapy -- I feel pathetic that no one ever has to draw it out of me, I just spill it everywhere all the time. I have a deathly fear of being a narcissist, like my mother. I see so much of her in me. I have a deathly fear that everyone in my life is sick of hearing me, sick of my self pity and my sad stories. But I also can't let go of telling it. If I don't talk about it, it eats me up inside. How do I let go and shut up? I just want to learn to shut the faucet off and not feel any pain.

[sanmagic7]

i hear ya, p&w.  i've had similar stuff going on over the years.  i would talk and talk at my hub about stuff, he'd tell me 'what's the point of continuing to bring it up?'.  the answer that came out of my mouth was that i needed to talk it to death.  literally.  as if, if i talked enough about whatever, it would eventually lose its power, wither away, and die.

i do the same thing here.  talk about it from every angle i can think of, over and over, until, eventually, i'm able to leave it behind.  it seems like it's something that's been an important coping mechanism (that's how i like to think of it), and if enough ears hear me, i can listen to myself differently, get some clarity or relief, and over time, it ceases to be.

of course, then i go onto the next thing, worry that to death.  but, i can see how some things just aren't quite as important to talk about anymore, like they've finally been put to some sort of rest.  maybe not forever, but for a while at least.  the urge to purge isn't quite as strong. 

i think that an underlying cause, at least for me, if i stop to think about it, is that i was brought up not to question things, not to talk about what went on with family, loyalty is all-important, and silence is golden.  once i broke free of those, a little at a time, the words didn't stop coming. 

i've often felt like i was an open book because of this tendency.  all my secrets were laid bare, in contrast to others who kept everything about themselves close to the vest.  so, yes, i can relate.  no, i don't think we're narcs. it sounds like you told your stories as a way to keep yourself safe as a kid from the bullies.  that's self-preservation rather than pathetic.

i believe the more we're able to bring into the light, for whatever reason, however it works for us, is just showing how different people can be.  we have different ways of coping, of surviving, of taking care of ourselves.  this is just one of those ways.  i think you're doing what's best for you, is all.  sending love and a hug filled with understanding and acceptance.

[Erebor]

For me at least, verbally sharing (often compusively and inappropriately in my case) my traumas with others has been a source of pain since it's usually compulsive and feels hard to control.  Like it ties into my lack of healthy boundaries, among other things.

I had some pretty devastating traumas as a kid and tried to cut myself off from their impact on me (dissociate).

However this just seemed to have the effect of making me compulsively share my trauma with total strangers. Like you I think, I've had too many painful instances of giving away TMI, with seemingly little way to stop it happening in the moment. I've worked out that part of it is that I have a dissociative traumatised child part that can partially take the wheel at times in social settings (don't know the triggers yet but I've got better at spotting it and being as deliberate and self-controlled as I can be).

This child part of me seems to originate in the times of deep trauma, and wants comfort/support/safety/love/for the pain I can't even feel to stop, but has no healthy or safe guidelines for interacting with people in order to get any of those things.  That leaves me with no boundaries, no contact with anything much internally to stop the oversharing, and a driving neediness that can be very hard to deal with.  I used to attack or shame myself for it, too, it's hard not to - but I think whatever lies at the root of 'too much talking' for anyone is something that probably deserves and needs to be treated with compassion and acceptence.  Maybe easier said than done but I'm finding it's nicer than attacking myself for oversharing.

How do I let go and shut up? I just want to learn to shut the faucet off and not feel any pain.

Maybe you're talking because you and/or some unconscious part of you needs to talk, because the pain/trauma isn't being resolved?  Talking may not be the path that leads to resolution, but in the absence of another option sometimes it might be the best we've got for desperately trying to resolve what we've gone through.

I used to have never-ending tears and talk repeatedly about some things, trying to heal them and get to feeling like I'd actually resolved and healed something, but it's taken gaining a lot more understanding in order to make progress from that point.  For me it partly seems to be caused by not fully knowing what any particular pain and grief is about - I thought something was about my FOO, and maybe part of it was, but the gaping chasm of pain definitely relates to something else I've only just identified. 

On another note, I definitely hear you on seeing too much of an N parent in yourself as a person.  No one else seems to notice it in me, but sometimes even when I look in the mirror I see an echo of my NPD-F.

Don't know if you'll find any of that at all relevent to your own journey, but best wishes for getting through it all. <3