The Pills I Choke Down to Discover My Truth

Anxiety.

Depression.

Complex PTSD.

ADD.

OCPD.

Medical science and psychologists and therapists have diagnosed me with the above list over the last six years. I believe with my current therapist and my coach working together, I can agree with them on the first three diagnoses. But they come at a cost at times. And they come with medicines and treatments along the way to help me cope through my triggers, my flashbacks, my haunting, sadistic memories of my childhood sexual abuse and entrapment.

They come with a pill to swallow.

And I don’t swallow pills well.

But there’s one pill I have had to choke down in recent months that I have had more difficulty than ever swallowing: My mother is a covert narcissist.

What do I mean by “covert narcissist?” I had to look it up myself the first time it was brought to my attention that I may have very well spent almost 44 years with a person in my family who lives and breathes this very definition and title–to a card-carrying status.

According to study.com, the definition reads as follows: “Covert narcissism is a more discrete form of narcissism displayed by a person with a more shy and reserved personality. It is characterized by grandiose fantasies and thoughts, a perception of entitlement, and a general sentiment of being better than others. Covert narcissism is typically expressed in a more passive and indirect manner than overt narcissism; it is conveyed with a condescending attitude, insincerity, passive aggressiveness, defensiveness, and hostility.”

(For more about the signs of covert narcissism, you may follow this link: http://bit.ly/1NX8rIV)

Yup. You read it correctly. My mother is a card-carrying member of the club–she just doesn’t know it yet. And likely never will know it. Or accept it if she was ever told. Besides, how could she ever believe it?

1. Let’s go with the first pill I have to swallow about my mother: Self-absorption. My mother is absorbed in her own agenda at all times. She comes across to many in her community, her church, even her family as one who gives of herself to the betterment of others, but in reality, the praise she does get, she receives with aloofness, seeking more praise in the eye of appearing humble.
2. Lack of empathy: Just this weekend, I was talking with my sisters-in-law about my recent medical treatments and visits. I had not been to the gynecologist in 12 years (I know–before you start guilting me into the why, remember that adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse struggle with medical examinations, and I for one, fall into that category. My abuse has left me isolating and avoiding doctors for myself and I finally got the courage to go to a new gynecologist, share my abuse background with her and her staff, endured the annual tests, and proceeded with further tests and a biopsy to rule out pre-cancerous cells. Yes, I did that. On my own. My husband was very supportive in my wanting and needing the time to consist of the two of us going through the process together. So, when I shared with my sisters-in-law the results, one of them said, “So how about your mammogram? Do you feel more comfortable now going through with that procedure?” I shirked at her question but before I could answer, my mother forced another pill down my throat. “It’s not that big of a deal. Just schedule it already and get it over with” was her response. Lack of empathy much? Yes, right there.
3. Passive-aggressiveness: I am learning about speaking my truth through work I’m doing with my therapist and my coach simultaneously.  In that work, I am learning to speak my needs to others in a healthy way like never before. So, when I decided to have a birthday party for our youngest child, my mother asked if she could bring something for the food. I told her I didn’t need anything–I would be glad to simply host my family for this celebration. She insisted on helping out, so I told her a couple small items she could bring, if she really wanted to, but deep down inside, I really needed to host this party on my own, as the qualified and highly capable adult I am. And guess what? She made me swallow her passive-aggressiveness in her words that, “Well, people do like ___________ also, so maybe I’ll bring that too.” I cringe when I think about my accepting her “help”.
4. Highly sensitive: So, a few days later, I was coming inside from working on our yard for the party, and about to get in the shower, when–uninvited–she walks in our back door, “Just to visit for a minute if that’s ok.” Actually, no, it wasn’t ok. I was about to have a private moment to myself when she crossed an unexpressed boundary. So, I waited, dirty and smelly, grass clippings all over myself, waiting for her to complete her “visit,” with me–wishing I could speak up and tell her to leave. (You’ll find this is where I struggle the most with her–speaking up and speaking my needs versus wanting to show respect and honor for my mother, as I’ve been raised to believe.) Finally, the topic of the party came up again and I decided to speak my truth. “Mom, I really don’t need you to bring anything. I would like to do this on my own. When you insist like you are, it makes me feel like you don’t think I can handle this on my own–that you think and feel I’m incapable of hosting a party at my house.” Her response? A laugh. A shrug. A smug look down her nose. And then finally, “Fine then. Do it yourself. I was just trying to help.” I told her appreciated her offer but indeed, I would like to do this on my own. (And then, ironically, her “visit” was over . . .) P.S. She still brought food even though we had ended it that I would be fine hosting alone. Right. Swallow that pill down really good.
5. Impersonal or difficult relationships: She’s had friends, and friends that have lasted a lifetime, but she acts like she can’t stand her friends behind their backs. And the relationship she has with my father, her husband? Even though they’ve been married over 46 years, she berates and belittles him and makes him feel like a bumbling idiot. I understand his frustration and anger at times when she puts him down or embarrasses him in public–she does it to me and makes me swallow that pill and makes it difficult to cultivate a healthy relationship with her.

There you have it. Five of the seven pills from the website I linked for you. My mother has me take them almost daily.

But I have the cure for how to get better and healthy once and for all: establishing and maintaining healthy boundaries. What do I mean by “boundaries”? That saying, “Good fences make good neighbors?” What does a boundary look like for me? Here’s a sample listing of privileges I’m taking away from my narcissistic mother as I establish and maintain healthy and safe boundaries:

• You are not allowed to ask questions you know the answer to.
• You are not allowed in my home without my permission or invitation.
• You are not allowed to parent my kids.
• You are not allowed to text me at work and expect an answer.
• You are not allowed to interrupt me when I’m speaking.
• You are not allowed look at me with condescending look.
• You will not bribe my children.
• You will not use my children for your labor.
• You will not use family members as currency to see me.

I’m learning that these boundaries may come at a price. However, I am bound and determined to create those boundaries for both of us to find peace and so I can share my truth with others and more importantly, with myself. Speaking my truth and conveying my needs in a real, honest, healthy avenue and maintaining those needs will assist me in establishing a healthier me–and at this point in my life, that’s all that matters.

*Author’s note: This blog post was originally published June 1, 2016. June 1 is Narcissistic Abuse Awareness Day.