Going through a rough patch, could use some empathy.

[Pippi]

Feeling incredibly set off after spending 2 days taking care of my mother.  I've been doing so much intense work in recent months (working with my excellent therapist), and I've been keeping my FOO at a distance in order to have space to heal.  But my mother needed help with a surgery, which meant I had to spend 2 full days and 2 nights with her.  And now, back home in my safe place, the backlash is fierce.  Such emotional pain that it's hard to move, hard to focus, hard to keep going.  I have no impulse to harm myself, but the days are long and brutal.  I stopped drinking over a month ago, which removed one of my major crutches.  I believe this has helped me make some big strides in my healing (facing my feelings rather than numbing them each evening), but I would not call this fun.  I keep saying, "Not drinking feels easy.  Facing myself feels HARD."

Without alcohol, my mother's brutal, callous gaslighting was even harder to handle.  With more healing under my belt, and more access to my own feelings, my FOO's emotional abuse is laid bare in all its horror.  As my T said, there is no way I could have coped with this level of pain as a child.  I would have died or becoming terribly ill.  So I became the perfect, golden child, proof to the world that we were indeed a "good" family, and not a toxic lie:  A loveless marriage, my narcissistic father cheating for years with a neighbor (my best friend's mother, and I was the only one who knew), my terrifying older brother abusing me in every possible way (acting out his own pain and rage at being emotionally abandoned by our parents), my mother anxious and depressed - the eternal "child" who could cope with nothing and mocked or criticized or shamed or fled from us if we expressed any feelings that challenged her fragile ego. 

When I finally fled my childhood home, after college, it was because my brother was so terrifying in front of my friends that they refused to stay at my house.  My parents were out of town, so I went to my aunt and told her.  She just smiled and shrugged.  So I went to a friend's mother, who heard my story and insisted I stay with her.  I went home and packed my bag and moved in with her.  When my parents heard that I had left the house, they were furious:  With ME.  Not my brother, of course.  He wasn't the one spilling the family's dark secrets to others, so he wasn't to blame.

Fast-forward a few decades: My brother now lives a marginal life of addiction and rage, appearing now and then to ask for money or verbally abuse us all.  My narcissistic father eventually spiraled into full-blown bipolar disorder, after losing all their money (they had been quite wealthy) on risky investments.  He also lost the beautiful family home, which broke my heart. As the uber-responsible middle child, it was my job to rescue them.  I worked for the past several years with lawyers and banks, cleaning up my father's disasters and fearing that he might go to jail for criminal activities.  I now care for my two frail, fragile, depressed parents - my father now a sad old man (prematurely aged at only 78) living in assisted living and stable only with lots of psychiatric medications, my mother a demanding, entitled child of 77 in an elder apartment.  Both are well-cared for.  Both live in the dream of denial they have always inhabited.  My sister is my only ally in the family, the only one who views this nightmare for what it really is (she is also the only one other than myself who is getting therapy and working on her s***) .

I struggle with guilt for not doing more for my parents, even though I manage all their affairs and medical care, with my sister's help.  I am enraged at these now-pathetic old people who had such power over me and abused that power so egregiously, warping me into a perfectionist robot who hated herself and felt none of her feelings for decades.  And there will be no reckoning, no release.  They will never "see" me.  They will never comprehend what they have done.  They will just die one day, and I'll be sad and also free.  And my pain and rage is my own, and I have to find a way to heal it. 

I'm working with ideal parent figures lately, and finding this to be a great solace.  I need someone - even an imagined someone - to hold me in this crippling pain.  I can't hold it all myself.  It's just too much.

[Armee]

I've got lots and lots of empathy for you and have been through similar. My dad died at 53 and my mom just died a couple months ago at 69 and I feel like finally i hit the parental jackpot that as crappy as they were at least they died young.

As you said, they will never see you. They will never appreciate you or make amends or see how what they did was wrong. There will probably not be that bedside moment. I know how terrible it feels to feel that death (theirs) is your only hope for relief. But that is their doing and doesn't reflect on you.

You are very very very kind and supportive to do what you are going for them. Any time that nasty voice in your heads wants to accuse you of not doing enough or being a bad daughter please for me remind it that you are actually doing much too much thank you very much.

Hug if it is welcome. I have been in your shoes and it is very very desperately difficult. 

[rainydiary]

Pippi, I just wanted to let you know I read your post.  Thank you for sharing your story.  I hope that you find some ease soon.

[Pippi]

Thank you, Armee.  It's nice to hear from someone who can relate, and I'm so glad for you that you have been released from this pain.  It's so good to have that validation.  Most people assume that I'm sad that my parents are ill, not realizing that I'm sad that they are still around to torment me, that I am stuck with caring for people who did not care for me. 

And yes, I will be sad when they are gone, and I am sad that they are suffering now.   But the true sadness is for the fact that they were such horrible parents to begin with, and that they robbed me of myself and my feelings for decades.  It feels taboo to say all this, in our culture that likes to pretend that all families that "look good" are actually good families.  NOT true, of course.  And it makes it all the more insidious, all the harder to put a finger on, because my family looked SO GOOD in so many ways (aside from my brother, the scapegoat and "identified patient").  And I helped us look really good, making all the right decisions and parroting (and believing) all the family lies... until something in me gave way and I just couldn't do it anymore. 

[Armee]

Yeah. There was a time over the christmas holiday last year that my mom was in the hospital for 2 months. I dreaded telling people when she was getting out because I was absolutely devastated and they all wanted to offer me these great sayings like "oh you must feel so happy." Nope. My life and sanity just ended again.

There was a time during that hospital stay that I thought she wasn't going to make it out alive. And I did feel sad because I felt bad she was in there alone because of covid. But then my sister called to tell me she talked to the doctors and she was going to make it. I sobbed and sobbed all day. I had never felt such grief in my entire life. That she was not dying yet. That was super super hard to reconcile with how I viewed myself...as kind, caring, and forgiving. But it was undeniable grief. That was very very hard. And not something that could be shared with many and understood by fewer.

[Blueberry]

Pippi, I want to let you know that I have read your post too. I see you and I hear you. Sending empathy.

[Pippi]

Thank you, rainydiary, blueberry, and Armee, for the kindness and support.  It helps.  Armee, I'm so sorry for the grief you endured when your mother was in the hospital.  And that you also had to endure people misunderstanding you completely at that time.  I can relate to that so very much. 

[dollyvee]

Hi Pippi,

I read your post as well and I'm also the child of a narcissist and can relate. When you put yourself out there as you but are told it's wrong, it's hard not to have the part in you that says you are a terrible person, no matter what your decisions are. I think I was the scapegoat in my family and I was the one who is lambasted for being wrong and humilated because I chose to live my own life, which is actually pretty much more of a white sheep life than a black sheep, but it is/was going against family no matter how they treated me.

After my mom had an aneurysm and was in the hospital, my brother called me to tell me and started talking about money/wills etc. I found out later after I arrived at the hospital that he had basically been saying that I came in just for money. Meanwhile he had gone through all the accounts. I understand that even if your parents aren't "there," there's still a nest of garbage that seems to engulf us. It really hurts to not have the parents we needed and I'm glad your sister is there for you. I don't know if it's helpful or not but after my mom died, it came to me one day that that was just her time on earth to do the things she needed to do. 

dolly