Coming to terms with the reality of my abusive mother.
Our family's dysfunction is "textbook case" NPD. I have been the lifelong scapegoat and it has been very painful and confusing to me my whole life.
I have been marginalized, shamed and rejected within my family of origin by my mother, stepdad and siblings too; were it not for the fact that my mother decided to -as she often threatened: "cut me off as in Biblical times" .... I know I would have not been able to go as they say in the NPD literature go "no contact" for health and happiness.
It is just too difficult to do with parents when we expect that they will love us... not hurt us.
On February 11/2014, I received an email that *rocked* my world... again- about the lies being told about me by my mother, and the people who choose to believe the lies and false rumors instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt and getting to know me and truth. Then, my mother stopped talking to me, did not return my calls..... even removed me from her facebook.
As I begin to *shift* ... there has been some 'growing pains'...
but there has also been loads of 'blessings':
I went to a thrift store today, it is one of my favorite ways to *de-stress* in the city…. As I walked around I thought about the fact that Sergio and I had been talking about finding something to mark this, this thing I am going through. It has been years in coming… I just always thought I would be able to “make it better”… but sometimes ‘making it better’ means letting go.
Sergio had suggested something to represent me as the “Phoenix raising from the ashes” ; not feeling quite as strong as that, I had thought of the “ugly duckling” when he realizes he is a swan, or the Lotus flower rising from the muddy waters…..
All that IS (God/Spirit/Universe….) had other plans.
As I walked around the store I quickly became distracted by well *everything* and promptly forgot about what I had in mind as I looked through shelves upon shelves of other people’s old stuff. Children were running around and one of the employees commanded over the loudspeaker:
“our toy are is not a daycare, retrieve your children now!” A hearing impaired woman tried to ask me questions about a lamp she was holding, and men lined up to test electronics in a corner of the store.
Suddenly, there, on a top shelf…..in a pile of frames of all sizes, I discovered a most intricate little door hand carved into soft wood, I excitedly picked it upr!
It was obviously handmade… and well, I have a tough time not gathering handmade objects from thrift stores, they hold all the love and intention of their maker, and I just can’t leave them behind. Besides, the work was intricate and amazing.
When I stepped to the counter to pay, all of the employees began to buzz around… a couple even came from the back … it was obvious everyone was waiting to see who would purchase this little treasure (the employees are not allowed to shop from there as all items are donated-we donate often ourselves- and I guess it could potentially lead to a mini black market and an unfair advantage for the employees..)
About 6 employees gathered around and all of them just looked at each other and one asked me:
“do you know what this is?”
“no, but I know it is in Arabic and probably Muslim” (at this point I realized all the women there had head coverings and were probably Muslim, something commonplace in our area that is full of immigrants from all over the world).
One of the women waved me over and she explained:
She said, picking up the little frame, it is a blessing unto you. It is:
Bishmalla and a door which signifies:
"It is a new life and a new
beginning with God's
(I was in tears... asked her to write it down for me in her handwriting)
Sending love & light to you and yours!