Question #4: Was My Childhood Really “Not That Bad”?

Is a good childhood one where I was berated on a daily basis?  Berated for minutes about something minor or falsely perceived until I snap?  Or be yelled at derisively on a consistent basis?

Is a good childhood one where I was never allowed to make boundaries?  Where my mother’s boundaries are 20 miles in circumference around her, and I can’t have any space?

Is a good childhood one where I was bruised on a regular basis from excessive spanking?  Spanked to the point that not only was I caught in the middle of dialing DCS, but my brother almost called too, because of the abuse my mom inflicted on me?

Is a good childhood one where I was required to be stifled by authoritarian rules at a cult, and at a school created by said cult, only to come home and be raised by a dictator?  One where my Mom reminded me of a screaming cartoon yeti?

Is a good childhood one where I was never given a voice?  One where I wasn’t allowed to pick my own clothing until I was 16?  One where I was so intent on doing what my mom wanted that I listened to her perfect career for me, and the guy she wanted me to marry? (Married someone else.)

Is a good childhood one where the parent had no idea the potential of my intelligence, and was surprised that the teachers said I could get the highest type of academic degree from my high school? Or one that I felt so stupid that I registered for the GED three times before actually going to go take it, because I was so doubtful of my intelligence?

Is a good childhood one where the mother favors the younger child over the older one?  A childhood devoid of affection, devoid of positive affirmation, and full of the paranoid delusions of my mother?

If this above is a good childhood, then I’m raising my children incorrectly.  However, we know this is not the truth.


And this above writing may seem melodramatic, but my mother seems to think that my childhood wasn’t “that bad” during one conversation, and that what she did to me was because an elder of the cult told her to on another occasion, and on another occasion that I “deserved” the punishment I received because I “mouthed off”.  I’m baffled at her delusion about this.  In none of these scenarios, does she take the blame.  The more I read the more I am convinced that my mother definitely has NPD.

Question #3: To God: What Do You Call Me?

I was reading the “Coffee With Jesus” comic strips this morning, and was loving Jesus’ interaction with the various people.  It caused me to ask God, “What do you call me?”  The word “daughter” popped up immediately, and was a punch to the gut.

At the moment, I am processing a difficult childhood.  My parents aren’t too happy with the conclusions that I’m coming to about it.  I asked for space, but I’ve gotten more than that, as usual when talking with them about things where they have wronged me, I’m met with silence. It has always been this way.

When I was growing up, my Dad treated me like a daughter, and my Mom did in some regards.  However, as I grew older, Dad became more involved with work.  When I turned 13, my Mom went “Nazi” on me about every little thing she didn’t like.  To make a long story short, I was abused physically, emotionally, and mentally by my Mom.  My Dad wasn’t there to see it.

I look at my children and see how much more love they receive from us than I received.  They are given positive affirmation, direction and grounding when they need discipline, and they are hugged daily.  As a result, they are social, happy,  and strong in who they are as individuals.

On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve struggled with understanding social norms, as my Mom doesn’t adhere to them at all.  I’m a fairly happy person for the most part, but I deal with some anger issues that arise strongly in times of pressure.  Until recently, I struggled with my identity, and in some ways I still am lingering over the idea of it.

So, when God showed me “Daughter”, it was the most perfect thing for me, especially at the moment.  In the natural, I’m loved by my parents in their own way, but not cherished like a daughter should be.  With God as my Father, I am cherished.  I am wanted.  I am loved.  I am disciplined appropriately.  My repentance isn’t questioned.  My mistakes aren’t held over me.  He is a perfect Father.  I am His daughter.

Question #2: When Will the Drama End?

Question #2: When Will the Drama End?

I know that I’m partly the cause of the drama in my life.  I have allowed a lot of abusive people in.  That’s my fault.  Also my fault is the fact that I allowed them to cross my boundaries too often.  Then when I couldn’t take it any longer, I’d lose my cool and give them a bulletined list of all of the things that they have done wrong to me.

For the most part, over the last few years, I’ve learned to create boundaries right away.  Those that don’t mind those boundaries, because they are healthy people, stay in my life.  Those who do mind those boundaries, because they are usually narcissists, know better than to stick around someone they can’t control.

A lot of my problems in the past stemmed from not creating those boundaries sooner.  Like I mentioned before, I’m responsible for my nasty reactions to finally being fed up. I’ve also had to wade through a lot of baggage.  To put it nicely, I had a weird childhood.

I’m about 99% sure that my mom is a narcissist.  She also took us to a cultish church, that was really controlling.  I struggle about saying more on-line, because I want to respect my mom, but at the same time, the way she treated me once I turned 13 was rather dastardly.  I’m still dealing with the way she basically “trained” me to react in anger to being provoked.  I’m still trying to figure out how to create boundaries with a person who never admits they are wrong without saying that it was someone else’s fault the way they reacted.  Trying to create boundaries with someone who steamrolls everyone in their path, yet won’t accept any truth about their hurtful behavior to other people is exhausting, and confusing.

I’ve come so far in my ability to deal with difficult people, but I feel that I am also a difficult person.  My husband and kids disagree with this assessment of myself.  Maybe it is the whole low self-esteem thing talking that is common in children of narcissistic parents.

I’ve had to temporarily cut things off with my mom.  My dad too, since he is enabling her.  One thing that I won’t stand for though, is being the root cause to every family problem, when really I’ve been the only one to stand up to my mom strongly.  Everyone else is intimidated by her.  I am trying to figure out a way to discuss without losing ground, and without there being drama.

I’m tired of the drama.  More than anything, our whole family wants peace.  However, I don’t want it at the expense of my children’s feelings as they are hurt by their grandmother’s antics.  My greatest fear is that my kids will turn away from me too.

I’m not sure that will happen though, as I’m quick to admit my guilt in a situation.  I’m also one to extend love and hugs to my kids.  I try to give the positive affirmation that I rarely got as a kid.  So, maybe these missing ingredients in my childhood are the keys to OUR family being a solid unit as we all grow older.

As for the drama, there are few family members that will always cause it, I think.  There are a couple that I will never allow back into my life, because they are abusive every time I’m around them.  As for my mom, I am having to take some time to contemplate.  I’ve been writing in a journal all the things that she has done to me, both as a child and as an adult.  I’m not sure if this is beneficial or not.  If anything, it shows me how much was really done to me that I had not put together.  I know that I’ll need to write down the good things that happened.  I don’t think I’m ready to though.  I need the reality of my childhood to sink in, before I allow my empathetic nature to set in and put things into a positive light.

I am SICK of drama.  I really am.  I’ve separated myself from most of it. I’m just not sure how to deal with this situation with my mom.

Question #1: Why Did I Start This Blog?

Question:  Why Did I Start This Blog? AKA “Why the HECK did I start another blog?”

I am soon to be independent of something that has been a responsibility for 14 years.  I’m not sure where life is going to lead me once I’m free.  I had it set in my mind the path that I thought it would take. Some of the experiences on the path were expected and solid.  Others were surprising and good.  A few were shocking and terrible.

I’ve grown a lot since I started that responsibility.  I asked a lot of questions about myself and life in this time, thinking that I would have some answered.  I did, but I found that I had more pop up.  Some things about myself are the same, and I’m happy with that part of me.  Others are the same, and I don’t.  The same thing goes for the things that are different about myself.  I like some of the new, but not all of it.  Life is definitely fluid and we have to go with it, or fall to pieces in the flood.

Once you start askingquestions, innocence is GONE. -Mary Astor

One thing different about the young woman I was in 2004 compared to now is that then I had black & white thinking.  I was raised with it, but I found it isn’t beneficial for most of humanity.  I used to think: black = evil/- & white = good/+.  Truth fell in the white.  Sin fell in the black.  Now I see that truth is somewhere in the middle, in-between the black & white.