Battle Hardened and Attack Ready

I'm not a big believer in the pursuit of Why, particularly when it comes to the why of the way that Narcissists behave. I used to be. I used to be on an a quest to understand their actions, to comprehend their logic, to break all of the assaults and behaviors and manipulations down into little bite size pieces with explanation, coat them with the sweet sauce of exposition and make them more palatable for me to chew up and swallow.

I spent scads of time on this journey to understand. I wrote checks in an attempt to purchase relevance. I thinked and thought and thunk some more in my efforts to figure it and them out. The only answer I received had more to do with acceptance of their natures than understanding of their motivations; they do what they do cause they do it. But that was a different post.

In my failed Quest to understand the Holy Grail of Why They Do the Evils They Do, though, I did learn a lot. Most of what I learned concerned the How of their actions.

ACoNs are trained from day one to NotSee and to UnSee. We know the truth of most situations, in my experience, as we are generally intuitive, observant and highly attuned to the gestures and actions of those around us. These attributes are often keys to our survival. We know what's really happening, but we are forced by our Nfamily to carry those truths silently within ourselves and to keep mum. We know the truth of the evil deeds, but we are trained to protect the perpetrators from their own actions with lies. Then, in the ironic twist that is inherent to life with Narcs, we are blamed for their evil actions in the first place.

It's the definition of CrazyMaking. How does a child survive this paradox? We learn to UnSee, at least to the best of our abilities. Of course, it makes us sick and causes us great pain, but we become masters of denial.

So, when we try to get better, when we begin to walk a path we hope will bring us to healing, we often are surprised by the outright heinous, forcefully aggressive assaults that the Narcs begin to hit us with. We've been ingesting their lies for so long, making up our own lies to protect ourselves for so long that invariably at some point we began to believe them.

I remember telling myself that surely it couldn't have been as bad as I felt. They probably didn't mean it that way. I was being overly sensitive. I wasn't perfect either, and maybe I was being too hard on them.

No wonder I couldn't be honest enough to see their attacks for the declarations of war that they were; I couldn't even be honest with myself about the facts of the abuse I'd suffered at their hands. I was stripped to the bone emotionally and had no capability to understand my own actions, no less someone else's. Throw Narcissism in the mix and all bets of comprehension were off. It was all I could do to even cope.

In retrospect, though, I can see a clear pattern of escalation from the very first boundary that I drew with the N's to the final storming of the beach that resulted in No Contact.

In the movie Casino, Joe Pesci plays strongman Nicky Santoro, protector to casino veep Ace. His portrayal of the character is terrifying partly, I think, because Joe Pesci's what, five feet tall? Regardless of his small stature, no matter what he looks like or what he seems to be, though, he's a vicious, brutal killer. This is how Ace (Robert DeNiro) describes Nicky.

"You beat Nicky with fists, he comes back with a bat. You beat him with a knife, he comes back with a gun. And you beat him with a gun, you better kill him, because he'll keep comin' back and back until one of you is dead."

Set aside reason, forget about reasonableness. This is how Narc's against the wall of a boundary communicate; with an ever evolving and escalating series of attacks. Civil tools aren't going to get them to back off.

You want them to stop calling you to scream at you? They're going to call you to scream AND they're going to get someone else to call you to scream at you too. You ask them to stay away from your children? They contact those children in every way they can think of, even moreso than they've ever shown any desire to talk to them before. You change your number? They show up at your house. You call the police when they show up at your house? They show up at your work. You ask them to leave? They call your customer service hotline to complain about how you treated them while pretending to be a non-involved customer. You manage to find a way to cut them out of your life completely? They stalk you and find out who your non-involved friends are, make nice with them and try to turn them against you. You lock your doors? They peer through your windows. You move on? They hunt you down.


They do not stop. Ever.


They can go into a cycle of dismissiveness, sure. They'll move on at points, find new victims, stay away for awhile if they can find other sources of Narc Supply. Junkies can usually find a new supplier, you know (but that doesn't mean that they forget their favorite drug.) Mine did, and there have been times when I've been lulled into the deceptive calm; into believing that silence is equivalent to serenity and that maybe they've just given up, gotten over it, moved on. This isn't truth, though.

They are fully capable of changing their game, developing different tactics and strategies, and they're good at it. (This, more than anything else that I know of, speaks volumes about them. If they are capable of changing the way that they come at me to hurt me, then they are absolutely capable of changing the fact that they are hurting me. Simple math then makes it easy to deduce that the capability to change is there; willingness to do so is what's missing on their part.) I've made it hard for them to get to me, and this creates some space because they aren't willing to work that hard, at least not today. They're getting their fix somewhere else, you see, so right now at this very moment, I get a pass.

But I'm not off the hook from their attacks. I'm back-burnered, that's all. Sooner or later, I've no doubt, there will be a trigger (my money's on my oldest DD turning 18 in a couple of years) and then they will be back in force (probably coming at my daughters rather than me; predators always go for what they see as the easiest prey first.) We say in alcoholic recovery that the disease of alcoholism doesn't go away when we stop drinking, it just hangs out behind our backs doing push-ups and getting stronger, waiting for an opening to slither back into an active status. So too, I believe, are the Narcs lurking in the shadows out there, just thinkin' shit up.

I'm not a paranoid conspiracy theorist. I don't sit around detailing or stressing about the ways that they're planning to get me. I just don't ignore the truth anymore.

Almost two years ago, the DD's let me know that NSis and GCYB had been trying to contact the DD's via social networking. This was almost three years since the last time I'd spoken to either NSis or GCYB. We're talking absolute radio silence, not a phone call, a letter, nothing, nada, zilch. The DD's have always had private profiles, but we took the additional steps to systemically block NSis and GCYB (and the minions that I know of) from the DD's profiles. And I started checking NSis and GCYB's profiles once a month from a dummy profile. I didn't really want to know what was going on in their lives, but I know them pretty well. They've rewritten history to the point now that they really believe that I'm the bad guy, the catalyst of their unease and destruction. This works to my advantage in a way, because they're not careful, they stand so firmly on their false moral superiority that they don't particularly watch what they say.

I'd lay dollars to doughnuts that if they did succeed in getting a response from the DD's or making a connection somehow, they'd be crowing their success from the mountaintops. So, once a month, I check and see what kind of shit they're flinging on their cyber walls.

Two years ago just after Thanksgiving, NSis posted a whole bunch of pictures of the "family" as it exists today all dressed up and posed by the Christmas tree. And the title of one of those Norman Rockwell portraits of traditional family bliss: "FUCK YOU VANCI." Of course she used my real name.


After NM's drug induced and mismanaged near death stay at the hospital in April of last year, NSis posted a comment about how "all the family is here with us now." Then she followed it up with a clarification, "Well, all the good family." Then yet another clarification, "I didn't mean any of the extended family in [another state], just Vanci."

So, no. I'm not off the radar. The guns might be pointed in a different direction momentarily, but they didn't lose my coordinates, not by a long shot. So they'll come at me or they won't when they feel like it, and they'll escalate as they see fit. They never took my opinion or feelings into account in the first place, even when I was the glue that held their lives together, their indentured servant who spoke to each and every one of them every day. They're sure as fuck not going to take my boundaries or wishes into account now.

Just like Nicky Santoro, they'll keep coming at me, one way or another.

That's dark, isn't it? Frightening, even.

But guess what?

They can't touch me.

I've done the work to break the cycle, and there isn't a single person on the face of the planet that I care about who doesn't know exactly who the Narcs in my NFOO are, and exactly what they do. There also isn't a single soul I care about who doesn't know exactly who I am, what I've been through and what I stand for. They may have rewritten history in their minds, but I've got the facts, the proof and witnesses galore of what and who they really are, what it really is and who I really am.

I have truth on my side, and I stand ready for anything they can throw.

Come at me, bros.

And we'll just see who ends up in the (metaphorical) hole in the desert.

Love,
Vanci

Narc Denial in Action ... continued

"Well, I know you won't believe me, but I just don't remember any of that."

This statement from NM really could stand on its own as a clear definition of the narcissist's ability to completely re-write any situation in order to suit her needs.

A normal person remembers the turning points in their loved ones lives, and those revelations were a turning point for everyone in our FOO.  That series of events when I was thirteen years old revealed the true character of everyone in the FOO and pointed each member in the directions that we would head in for several years. 

NM took the narc reigns firmly in grasp because of those events and cemented her place as El Victim Supremo.  EF gave up his job as a minister because of those events, and began the kowtowing to NM lifestyle that he still lives today because of those events.  OS blamed me (faulting the victim for bringing it up rather than the abuser for commiting the crimes) and launched her massive campaign of denigrating Vanci and learning how to be a bigger Narc than either NM or EF ever had been.  And YB learned that no matter the situation, he was the Golden Child and therefore got a pass. I became so numb due to the pain those events caused me that I began to seek anything, and I do mean anything, that might make me feel... something.

We're talking about a life-changing, seismic shift  in the character, behaviors, roles, hopes and actions of every single person in the FOO (and really in the world, if we consider how isolated the Crazy NP's kept us.)  Everything changed, absolutely, positively everything.

And she really can't remember it. 

Holy fucking hell, what a frustrating moment.

There is no appropriate response to this outright denial of a true, actual event, that I'm aware of.  Any attempt to refute such a claim seems pointless and reminds me of a saying:  Never argue with the village idiot; they'll drag you down to their level and beat you with their experience.  I simply said nothing. 

Of course, NM needed to fill that uncomfortable silence.  Now, with a little time and distance from the conversation, I like to envision that I could hear air raid sirens at this point in the meeting.  Danger!  Danger!  Take cover!  It's about to get worse!

"You have to understand, Vanci, that I was in shock.  I mean, you'd known about what you'd been through for years but it was news to me.  I probably didn't react exactly right, but I was truly in shock."

Oh.  My.  God.  Here's a little snippet of the jumbled thoughts running through my mind at that point.  I don't have to understand anything about you... of course it's about you and your shock.  Did you really just tell me that I was better prepared at thirteen to deal with my father's sexual abuse of me than you were as my parent because I'd had to carry that sick knowledge for years and you hadn't?  Did you really just demean the fact that my minister father sexually abused me repeatedly by referring to it as 'what I'd been through,' rather than it what it really was - exploitative, horrendous, abominimal, outright abuse committed by a 'trusted' adult against an innocent child?  Probably didn't react exactly right?  There's no probably or right about asking me to lie to cover the abuser's ass so that you didn't have to give up any comforts.  Holy hell.  You did.  Holy hell.

Here's what I said, "I was THIRTEEN!"

Here's what she said,
"You seem to think that we should all be perfect, like you think you are."

"NM, I don't think I'm perfect.  And I certainly haven't handled the situation with you perfectly, and I do have regrets, but most of them are of the fact that I didn't cut off contact sooner." 

And... that was pretty much the end of the session, at least in my mind.  There were a few more salient moments, such as when NM tried to tell me that I've always been 'stubborn,' but really none of them mattered to me.  We ended the session with NM saying, "I don't feel like we've solved anything!  How do we move forward?"  My counselor wisely suggested that I would need some more time to think about the answer to that question. 

And now I know the answer.  It's simple; we don't.  There's nothing real or true in that relationship; there's no love, no empathy, no concern, no care.  There's an evil, toxic woman approaching the end of her life and looking to use any illness that she can manufacture to force enough sympathy for her to get everyone right where she wants them.  At one point she said, "You know, Vanci, with all my medical problems I just want to see things right before I die.  And now I have Parkinson's hanging over my head as a possibility, too..."

One of my DD's has a chronic disease that was a long time in diagnosis.  I've done a ton of research on various auto-immune and terminal diseases as a result of this, so I know a little about Parkinson's.  Enough to know that Parkinson's is an incurable, terminal disease and that we don't really understand who gets it and who doesn't until a person is diagnosed with it.  So, really, don't we all have Parkinson's hanging over our heads as a possibility?  LOL. 

What a sad, sad waste of an otherwise healthy life.  What a shame that she had to try to bring so many other people down into her pit of despair with her. 

What a blessing that I don't have to take that journey with her, ever again.  What a good thing it is to be free of her chains. 
In the words of the late, great Kurt Vonnegut Jr., she can take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut!  She can take a flying fuck at the Mooooon!

Good riddance.
Love,
Vanci

Narc Denial in Action

I've been thinking about my last - and it will be the last - interaction with NM several weeks ago in my counselor's office.  I wouldn't say I'm dwelling on it, but I'm approaching it with the same theory that I've used to stay sober.

We say in recovery, and I believe, that the best way to avoid the next drunk is to vividly remember the last one.  At first, when I was newly sober, I couldn't understand this.  So close to an alcoholic bottom, why would anyone want to remember that incomprehensible demoralization?  I wanted to run as far and fast from it as I could!
Eventually I came to understand the concept, though, that if I could keep in mind exactly how I'd gotten to that painful end, it would be easier to pick up the tools that would keep me from that path again.  Fear can be an excellent motivator, after all, and fear of the hell that I'd ended up in has at times served to keep me on the right path when my more intellectual tools have failed.  It's a temporary jolt, for sure, that doesn't create any real growth, but it zaps me back onto the path of the right direction in a hurry.

So, replaying some of that last conversation has been part of my work for the past couple of weeks as I firm up my plan of action.  With a little bit of research and a bit of reflection, it's amazing how transparent some of NM's manipulations are.  How could I ever have trusted her? I think.  But the answer, of course, is that I was trained from day one to do just that.  I was fed healthy doses of bullshit instead of the mother's milk that I didn't get, and it's natural that it's taken me years of re-learning to flush all that life-sucking, confusion-making crap from my system. 

I present here for your reading pleasure some of the more glaring highlights of Narc-y Crazymaking from that session, in loose chronological order.

She talked for the first ten minutes without stop about what she wanted.  "A normal relationship," she said.  "It just means so much to me that you came to see me in the hospital, and to know that you still loved me.  I almost died, and that's given me some perspective." 
So, again, it's all about NM.  Her addictions and attention-seeking landed her in ICU with failing kidneys and double pneumonia, which she'd allowed to go untreated for too long, so had to have a breathing tube inserted.  Add to this the fact that - without her primary doc handing her hydrocodone and methadone like candy - she was in physical withdrawal and detox from the heavy narcotic doses she's been bellied up to for almost fourteen years. The truth is that she almost ended her own life with her choices, but in NMLand, this means that she 'almost died.'  And it's given her 'perspective.'  
On what, exactly, I wonder?  Is that like, oh my, I almost lost the battle for Vanci's soul before Satan welcomed me home?  Or is it like, hmmm, if I die without Vanci and her DD's at my side, everyone I know will know that I wasn't a good mother or grandmother?  
I can't believe that it was true life-changing, mindset-altering perspective, and here's why: 
"I just want a normal relationship." 

Huh, normal.  This from the woman who defined normal as allowing all three of her children to be bent over a couch, bare-assed, and whipped with a leather belt up to thirty smacks because one of her children had chosen to crawl under the table to get out of the booth at a rare restaurant dinner rather than ask to be excused.  Yes, really.  YB was three at the time and still a pretty 'normal' little boy.  He crawled under the table.  We had our food packed up to go and endured the rage of EF all the way home (fully supported by NM's silence,) where we were then lined up for a major 'whipping.'  We were around three, five and nine years old at the time, and even thtough the punishment didn't fit the 'crime,' and all three of us were subjected to an abusive tirade and physical violence when only one of us had done anything even remotely wrong (which still wouldn't have deserved that type of treatment anyway,) we were told by both EF (when he finally lowered the belt) and NM (when she finally said anything,) that it 'was for our own good.'  Normal?  I think not.  

Our 'normal' relationship prior to the Vanci Revolution went like this: she got what she wanted from me, when she wanted it, without question from or compensation to me.  I got whatever she felt like giving me, which was little if nothing on a good day, and I was supposed to be grateful for that.  No matter how well I followed her rules, even then, I was still unacceptable; I was 'difficult.'

So what she really meant by 'normal' was this; it was high time for me to re-enter the relationship she wanted, because she was running low on Narc Supply.

Evidence:  "...you still loved me."  Ah, I get it!  So you think that since I showed up and told you I loved you, you're back in control.  The Victim Supreme rides again!  Despite the fact that I never claimed not to love her, the statement just places the focus back on target where she wants it to be.  It dismisses the fact that our estrangement was caused by her choices and actions, and makes the entire fight for survival that I've had to wage my entire life a question of whether I love her or not.  What ego!  What classic Narc self-centeredness!

She eventually said this, "I just remember that you and I were really close and we had a lot of good times together... I know it wasn't perfect, but I thought we got along really well."

After I picked myself up off the floor by this outright lie about our history together, I responded in a way that I thought was mature and honest, "NM, I do have some good memories, but I have to be honest.  Most of my memories and experiences center around my having to take care of everyone in the family, whether I wanted to or not.  I have memories of being abused and taken advantage of, of being screamed at and told it was my fault, of being forced to lie to protect the Family at my own cost, of the $15,000 YB borrowed and hasn't ever paid back, of supporting OS financially and emotionally and having her call to scream at me in the middle of the night in return, of being used for my truck and other possessions and of being made the scapegoat in the family.  Most of my memories are about me being used."

"Well, I can't be responsible for anyone else's actions!  And all YB has ever said about the money is that he wants to pay  you back!  And with OS, well, you know some people in our family are more forgiving than others!"  Here she's doing some swift blame-shifting.  She ignores that fact that she has been the primary user of Vanci, and has no compunction about throwing the other (non-present) members of the FOO under the bus.  She's also in complete denial of the fact that she, on many occasions, sicked the Minions and FOO on me; when they attacked, much of the time, they were simply doing her bidding.  She's exonorating GC YB, because it's perfectly acceptable for him to have owed me this money for the last six years without paying back a dime, don'tcha know, because he wants to pay it back. 

And then, classic and true to form, the blame shifts back to me - it's about forgiving me.  Wow.

I cut her off at this point and said, "I need to stop you and tell you that I completely stand by the decisions that I have made to limit and cut off contact with you all.  I made a good decision with my husband to create safety from you for myself and my children, and I have ABSOLUTELY no interest in seeking your forgiveness.  I haven't done anything that requires it."

This stopped her for a minute.  Scapegoat Vanci never would have been so clear and direct with her statement of non-guilt.  Scapegoat Vanci would have been looking for forgiveness.  I wasn't Scapegoat Vanci anymore though, and this direct refutation of a manipulation threw NM for a serious loop.  It took her a minute to come up with this;
"Well, maybe forgiveness isn't the right word." 

Bwahahahahahahaha!  Yeah, 'maybe' it isn't!

She chose thismoment to bring up 'what a difficult child I was,' by saying, "Well, you know, Vanci, you haven't just been used.  We've had to bail you out plenty of times." 

I stopped her again and asked, "Are you talking about when I was a teenager?  Or when I was going through my divorce of the man you pushed me to marry who was abusive in every way possible?  Are those the bailouts you're talking about?"

"Because if we're going to talk about that, NM, then we're going to talk about why I got in the trouble that I did."  I proceeded to bring up my revelation of sexual abuse by EF when I was thirteen and her absolute botch of a job in helping me to deal with it.  (Actually, it wasn't a botched job, it was a carefully executed manipulation to kill my soul while keeping up appearances and guaranteeing her that her life wouldn't change.) 

"We're going to have to talk about the fact that I went from a straight A student who'd skipped the 8th grade to that scared little girl who asked you to protect her.  And we're going to have to talk about the fact that when you failed to protect me to save your own ass, it took three months for me to find drugs, alcohol and sex.  That slippery slope is one that you put me on, NM, and gave me a shove down." 

"Well, I know you won't believe me, but I  just don't remember any of that."

Wow. 
How does a mother not remember throwing her daughter to the wolves?

To be continued...

Love,
Vanci