The death of the dream

When you are the child of narcissistic parents you grieve many times. Most people grieve when their parent dies, but for those of us who have been black listed multiple times, treated as though we failed to exist, we have lost our parents many times over.

Most of all we grieve when we realise the parent we have is never going to be the parent we hoped for. They don’t exist. And generally as a narcissist ages they become more stuborn and set in their ways, any glimmer of home in a happily connection with them shatters and dies.

I have cried a lot for the death of my dreams and ideals.

Last week my husband and I reached out to my mother once again via text, as Christians we feel a large burden of responsibility to care for her. Because of that love and care, we keep trying to have a balanced (impossible with a narc) family relationship with her despite her abuse and manipulations.

Her reply was bitter. Telling us how we never love or respect her and that the only one who did was her DOG! She again, for the billionth time, told us she is going to sell her house and move away to somewhere we will never be able to contact her again.

This week my mother has actually put her new home on the market. Who knows if she will actually move away without a forwarding address, but the threat/promise hangs in the air like smoke.

I am sad, and hurt in my heart.

I’m sad for what I wish we/she could have been, and actual family where we all love and care for each other. I am sad for my children, that the loving relationship with biological family will never be realised, I am sorrowful for their loss.

I also feel a guilty sense of relief. The thought that she might make good on her threat she’ hung over my head for decades of “selling and leaving and never having anything to do with me again” coming true gives me a shameful  peace.

My mother has died many times, I have grieved the loss each and every time. There was never anything I could do to make her stay except to sacrifice my own happiness and my life, and in later years, my children. It is not possibly to do that forever, nor is it healthy.

I will grieve again this time, but it may be my last time ever. Sadly, biology does not make family, love does! She is incapable of loving me or my children, and as each loss occurs, I have cried a little less for a shorter time, one day I won’t cry again.


16 thoughts on “The death of the dream

  1. It’s hard, because you want to include them IN the happy things and be a family. You WANT to take care of them and see them happy…but frightened horses will stay in the fire and not leave. And, frightened horses kick and bite and scratch the handlers trying to save them in the process.

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  2. I don’t see my mom as a narcissist. There’s simply too much trauma and she got too lost in its effects too early on to ever learn how to relate to me as her daughter in any way outside of those constraints. I tried to build a life beyond the bad parts. She lost the ability to see there was anything beyond them and resents me for those attempts. She never lets me live it down. I don’t hate her. I feel deep sorrow that she broke under a series of events that almost – but hasn’t yet – totally broken me. In thr end her actions are functionally the same and their effects on me were functionally the same growing up, though, whether it’s narcissism or severe other mental health problems
    I relate to this very much. The various traumas that happened in our family took away our ability to ever relate in a normal way before I ever learned what it should have looked like. I’ve felt that grief, too.

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    1. I relate. I don’t hate my mum either, I feel deeply sad for her, and sad for myself and my boys because of her. But if she gave any hope of changing I’d forgive her again for the billionth time.

      Mum is the same, I think she’s bitter and angry that I’ve made a good life with a loving husband and 2 happy children, she didn’t.

      The golden child has a great career, but a terribly family life. Mum gets to brag, and not feel like a failure at the same time.

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  3. It’s sad that your mom can’t see beyond herself to imagine what it might be to have a connection with her daughter and her daughter’s family. It’s a loss to her that she can’t even realize. I’m sorry that you’re suffering, even though, like you, I can see that it might be a relief if she did disappear from your lives, if you could really be done grieving.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s so sad. She’s well into her 70s. I wish for her sake she was surrounded by all her family. She has 5 children, many many grandchildren, and many great grandchildren. But only one of my sisters sees her (when it suits her or she needs money), and it is only myself and my husband and children who have ALWAYS been there for her even through abuse. It breaks my heart to know she’s alone. It breaks my heart to know we are alone too.

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  4. Reblogged this on The Struggle to Get Here and commented:
    The Narcissist Daughter has so eloquently written what could have been my own words. I have often found myself in shame as I have thought that maybe G!d took the wrong parent from us when my father died 17 years ago. I have found myself wishing her death. Not because I wish any harm on her, but because I just want to grieve for a final time and move on with my life. These are shameful thoughts, I know. However, there is closure in death. I want to honor my parents. It’s important to me. My mom makes it impossible to honor my father. And only through distance can I honor my mother. It’s still hard to be a child who loves a parent who doesn’t know how to love you back, and to wish they would die so you can be done with grieving them. I just want peace. In my life, but more so in my soul!

    Liked by 2 people

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