Ghostly memories

For three days I have been troubled I have been tortured by not knowing. In front of me things are clear, but my past, which I thought was clear; is now shrouded in foggy shadows. Foggy indistinct shadows, silent, or with unintelligible whispers. It's like a scene from the Twilight Zones. Who are these people and what are they doing in my head. What are they saying and why can't I make it out or see them?

For years I prided myself on my memory. My siblings had great lapses in theirs and I could proudly fill it in for them. I thought I had it all. I was the eldest, the scapegoat, and the story teller. The truth teller. It didn't matter that I don't remember being eight. I don't even like the number of 8. It reminds me of orange and I don't like the color orange either. Strange connections and perhaps they are clues to the shadows in my mind.

In the wonderful blog Sanctuary for the Abused, she writes:

Almost all Victims report impaired memory; this may be partly due to suppressing horrific memories, and partly due to damage to the hippocampus, an area of the brain linked to learning and memory.

Not only do I have that, but every single item on the page. Our abuse was severe, prolonged, horrific, and it changed all of us as human beings. I often wonder who I might have been had I not had this to deal with.

So, how did this happen. Well my MNM was on the phone with and quite skillfully and insidiously eroded my defenses until I was a quivering ball of clay in her hands, to do with what she wanted. What I had forgotten was that I had God on MY side. He is my potter and I am his clay. He reclaimed me and I was able to pull back and end the conversation. Wow! That was close! In the meantime I was crying like I hadn't since I was a child. Deep wracking sobs that came from some wear deep, dark, and hidden. I could almost hear the echoes of years of hidden sobs. I was shocked and unprepared.

While I was crying I saw people in my sobs. Shadowy figures. I could reach out and almost touch them. I could hear psst, psst sounds of their speaking and the whispery words disappeared like vapor. They were familiar, but I didn't know them. Who were they? And I became distresses. More and more distressed. Who are these people in my head. My heart pounded and raced. Who are you? It seems I was invisible to them.

I visited with my counselor on Thursday and told her about this new  experience. We talked about it a bit and I started to cry. Very emotional tears for me. I KNOW I don't remember. WHY can't I remember? WHAT is it that I don't want to remember. WHY is it blocked. WHAT is so frightening?

At the same time I tremble and shake and want to put my hands in my face and cry "Oh God, please don't make me remember. I don't want to remember. I can't do it God. Oh God please help me. I don't want to remember". I am absolutely petrified. More than terrified. Petrified. Frozen. Crazy with fear of what I don't remember.

It may have something to do with the sexual abuse, or it may have something to do with the violence. My MNM would do despicable things while being violent. Like making us be all naked in front of one another. Calling our body parts by filthy names. Telling us all to "LOOK AT IT!!" to "PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THEM!" I'd feel so bad for my siblings. I just wanted to cover them up. For me, I felt humiliation and shame. I felt guilt if it was something I had done that brought this one, or if I could have done something to stop it and didn't. I was embarrassed and I felt rage. I wanted to hurt some people very badly, and instead I would pray to God and ask him to help me to be a better girl so my mom would love me. Then I have my sort of bad prayer when I asked god to not let me wake up in the morning. I would as "God can you make me die in the night or maybe just put my in a coma until I'm old enough to leave home." Then my mixed prayer, good with really bad, "God, came you my my mom love us? and if you can't god could you make her die tonight? I know that is a sin god but we just don't want to be beaten any more. Help us god."

I also asked God for strength to not kill her, as I really wanted to. In fact, at times she even dared me to. She would hand me the knife and scream and scream and scream "Stick it in me! Stick it in me!" Then call me a coward, a baby, a crying sniveling good-for-nothing. Then she said that if I really wanted her dead that I would have killed her, therefore; because I didn't, then I knew she was right and I was wrong. Otherwise I would have killed her. Her crazy making logic at work. Right now I want to scream. I want to scream at this memory, I want to scream at the injustice, I want to scream for the tears  never cried, I want to scream because now I know I too have memory blanks. Part of me is missing. What did she steal? What happened to me! I don't know if I can bear this.

One of my night terrors, which is about one of her murder attempts, I wake up screaming because I am about to die as the knife comes to me (which happened in real), and then it is all blank. I don't remember. I wake up sobbing, I don't remember, I don't remember, why can't I remember. Oh God, I just DON'T remember. Obviously she didn't take out life that day, but what happened to causes me to wake up to this day in the middle of the night, holding my head, screaming, and shouting "I don't remember!"

I am grateful for Psalm 139. I will remember when the Lord thinks the time is right and he will be with me. In the meantime I will take comfort in these words.

Psalm 139
1 Lord, you have examined me
    and know all about me.
2 You know when I sit down and when I get up.
    You know my thoughts before I think them.
3 You know where I go and where I lie down.
    You know everything I do.
4 Lord, even before I say a word,
    you already know it.
5 You are all around me—in front and in back—
    and have put your hand on me.
6 Your knowledge is amazing to me;
    it is more than I can understand.

No More Tears

You had me crying again. Crying because I wasn't loving you enough. You felt I loved others more than you. What is really sad is that I don't think I did. I should have loved everyone more than I loved you. I loved you so much and kept trying to love you more and more that you really got the most of my love. I never tried to love anyone and show someone as hard as I tried to show you. And yet, you feel I loved my SOB (your words) of a father more than you. Someone who never beat me. Someone who made me laugh. Someone who made it fun to be a kid. Someone I couldn't wait to be with. You knew that and took him away. Your jealousy and unhappiness sent him running for the hills to escape from your wrath. I can still see the bacon and eggs sliding down his windshield. I recall on the mountain highway when you pulled the keys out of the ignition and threw them out the window. I think there is a reason that car manufacturers make it so you can't do that anymore while the car is in gear. We ended up crashing in the side of the mountain. You, dad, and four kids. You were willing to risk anything, because to you weren't any"one". We were just things to be controlled and manipulated. Like chess pieces on a board and when you didn't get your way, you'd knock us all over.  I remember when you jumped out of the moving car. I was screaming at you to not do that. "Don't mommy, don't mommy". "Mommy, please don't. We're scared". "Mommy, we love you, close the door." At times I had very dishonoring and evil thoughts and wished you had died.

Your little pawns in your game of life. That's all we were. If you could make us look bad to make you look good, well game on. You did not care about the level of shame or humiliation you brought on us. You had us steal for you and told us not to get caught. Good one there. If we got caught you would berate us and shame us in front of the authority and play the poor single mom, or the poor struggling mom with some terminal illness. How you tried so hard to keep your kids in line but they just won't listen. Oh, the tears came so easy. They'd be so suckered in and feel so sorry for you and they'd look at us with disgust. We would have to make apologies and retribution to them. We'd work for free, cleaning yards, houses, whatever they needed. All the while filled with shame and embarrassment for something we did not do on own accord. I hated my life so much. I really hated it.

Then the knocking the pawns over. The rage that would take place because you had to act your academy award winning part due to your nacissist injury. We would have to be humiliated even further for doing you bidding. We would have to be "punished". Not punished for stealing, but punished for getting caught. "Didn't I tell you not to get caught?" Thwack! "What are you crying for? I haven't even hit you yet!" Thwack! "You brought it on yourself so don't cry to me!" Thwack! "Pull your pants DOWN!" Thwack! "What does "Don't get caught me to you"?" Thwack! "So what are you going to do next time?"

It would go on sometimes for an hour or more. I'd cry and beg "Please don't hit me." She'd laugh and say "Take it like an adult. You're such a baby. Can't even follow the simplest instructions. How are you ever going to make it in life if you can't do the simple things?" And the conveyor belt would lash out over and over on my bare bottom, my back, my legs, my shoulders. She'd pull my hair if I tried to move off her lap and slap me in the face if I wasn't responding to her in the correct tone of voice or the right words. When she was all done I would have to tell her I loved her before I could leave the room. Sometimes that would entail more beating before I would break down and say "I love you mom."

Shortly after that we'd be sent out again to raid gardens, steal pop bottles, a carpet sweeper once and a carpet, apples off trees. We'd get home and MNM would demand "Did anyone see you?" We'd say no and she would exclaim that they better not have because you know what will happen if they did. Next we'd she in doo doo up to our necks because we didn't get enough of this or that. Then we'd have to decide which us useless ones would do without since we hadn't thought to bring enough for everyone.

I cried then. Every day. Every night. All the time. I cried the other day. It washed away some of the blindness I had for you. I don't think I will cry because of you again. My heart is drying up.

I await the blessed return of Jesus and believe and live in hope of his words:

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4

Tactics

Malignant narcissist psychopath disordered people have an enormously immature attitude of entitlement. To them you are not a person, but an object that is there only to satisfy their needs. Their need is to be noticed and they don't care whether is love or hate. As long as they are getting attention it is okay. If you hate them, these people are so twisted that they are able to twist it and maniputlate into something to suit their needs and purposes.

Always be aware that if they do not get their own way  you will be on your way to the MNP disorded persons ways of controlling you and putting the focus back on them.  Your job is always to gratify them and they will become vindictive, they will bully you, shame you, rage at you, put you down, treat you contemptuously, and attempt to make you doubt you own sanity.

Blame shifting: They blame you for their bad behavior.
Financial abuse: They control the finances and manipulate expenses to be in their control.
Smear Campaigning: They have subtle or overt conversations with friends and family which contain false concern for your mental health or behavior.
Compulsive lying: These are lies that are told in order to control the victim's reality... they might seem silly or to serve no purpose unless one looks deeper.
Rage: Sometimes, the person with NPD will simply rage at their victim. This can include emotional, verbal and physical abuse.
Threats: The person with NPD is a master of intimidation. They will make you fear for your life, children, reputation or job.
http://www.examiner.com/article/how-to-weather-a-narcissist-s-storm

My MNPM just put me through a silent treatment after I lost my cool with her. Not a good thing to do with narcissists as it feeds their need for attention. They sit back and gloat that they have won the round. You are now as angry and upset as they feel. I managed to get in control of myself and used a lot of "I" statements and set some boundaries with her. She was not a happy narcissist! In her days of the silent treatment she worked and honed her skills to manipulate me when she called again. It was perfection and such a work or narcissisitic skill. I was prepared and armed and didn't fall for it.

HER: Hello.
ME: Hi mom, how you doing?
HER: I thought you were going to call me.
ME: No mom, I said that I don't like to call when you are so sick and can't take my call, so I told you from now on you call when you are feeling well. That way I don't disturb you.

This was decided after three episodes of her refusing to take my call for 1 day, 2 days, and then 4 days because she was sick. The last episode of 4 days had her flying monkey tell me that she was so sick that he was scared. "She won't let me call the doctor, she won't let me take her to the hospital, she won't let me call the ambulance....I am so scared, I don't know what to do. I think she is going to die. She says such bad things and says such bad words to me."  English is not this gentleman's first language. My MNM has a filthy mouth. If there is a curse word, she knows it and she knows how to string them together in such a horrifying string of filth that you want to shower after you hear it.  Hearing that she was saying bad words let me know she wasn't dying. She had a lot of energy left. I explained to my MNM that I would no longer call her and bother since she is so sick so often. I was showing her concern and respect. That was the new rule and new boundary. I was not going to be rejected or punished by her and I didn't need to worry about whether or not she really was dying, and I didn't need the Flying Monkey adding his own worry and stress to the situation. I didn't need or want 2 people trying to manipulate me.

HER: That's not fair. I shouldn't have to do all the calling! (Trying to make me feel guilty.)
ME: Mom, I called you every day for over 2 months. I explained what would happen if you refused to take my call again and you did it again. These are the rules. I don't like being made to worry and I don't like bothering you when you are sick.
HER: Well, that is silly, you don't need to worry.
ME: Mom, it is natural to worry when someone is sick.
HER: Not if I told you not to.
ME: Mom, turn it around. If you called her and my husband told you I was sick and wouldn't go to the hospital, etc (read the above). Would you worry?
HER: Of course I would, and I would be in my car and at your place as fast as I could get there to make sure you were okay. (Bingo! If I loved her, I would have rushed to her side.)
ME: Well mom, that is you. I think you are an adult, and as such can make your own mind up whether or not you need to go to the hospital. If you thing staying at home is best, then I trust your judgement.
HER: Well, I guess I just care too much. (Indicating that I didn't do what she wanted -- rush to her bedside -- so therefore was lacking).
ME: I care too, but I respect your wishes to be left alone.
HER: Well, if you say so. (Letting me know she is not happy, and that she doesn't believe me.)
ME: Mom, if I came over when you said you were sick and wanted to be alone, then I would not be respecting you or your wishes.
HER: (Time to change the subject as she knows she is not winning.) How are you sleeping?

My MNM knows I have insomnia and night terrors. She is fully aware of what caused them. She knows I have terrors because of the fear of being murdered by her. I relive them over and over. She pooh-poohs them with, "Oh no, I loved you and would never have hurt you."  I don't know how she can make that statement without going up in a pillar of smoke as she hurt us everyday, and in every way you can imagine. It was a life filled with horrifying brutality and pain.  So, she gets me all riled up a few nights earlier and she KNOWS exactly how I slept. She wants me to know how she can control me.

ME: I don't want to talk about my sleep. I sleep the way I sleep.
HER: Well, I want to know because I care about you. (No, you just want to get your narcissistic supply)
ME: Well, if I am having problems with my sleep then I will talk it over with my counsellor.
HER: You've been doing that for years and they haven't helped you yet. You need to talk to your MOTHER so she can help you. (Yeah, right. I can't be helped, it's not working, you're incurable, talk to me who caused it.)
ME: Well, sometimes these things take a while to be fixed. I just have to be patient.
HER: Well, why doesn't God help you then. You said he has answered so many of your prayers, then why won't he take this away?  (Let's attack her beliefs.)
ME: How do you know he hasn't? Sometimes the answer is Yes, sometimes the answer is No, like he said to Paul when he asked for the thorn to be removed. Jesus said "My grace is sufficent for you"; and then sometimes the answer is not yet. I don't pretend to know the mind of God, but I know he hears my prayers and answers them.
HER: Not very well, obviously. (more baiting, and pointing out how ineffective my God is. Mother can do better.)
ME: Perhaps he is teaching me patience.
HER: (Time to change the subject). So are you going to come home and stay with me when your sister comes, since your husband will be gone? It would be so nice to have you come home.

AAARGH!! I so detest the word home when she uses. So completely delusional! I never had a home, not ever. It was a place of abuse. It was a place of horror. It was a place that drove 50% of her children to attempt suicide.  One more may have but he is dead so I can't ask and I was kept away from the family when I left. The other is a drug addict, and the other is tormented with memories and has become very reclusive and withdrawn from the world. I had no home.

ME: I don't plan on it. I will come and visit you with sis.
HER: But wouldn't it be nice to be with your mother? Won't it be nice to come home so we can hug and kiss one another? I can make you something nice to eat. What would you like to eat?
ME: Nothing mom, I coming with sis and going home.
HER: But you will be alone all week, can't you spend a few days with me?
ME: Mom, my husband goes away and I get to do all the things I want to do. Plus, I get to have some really important me time. I love to be by myself so I can write and create things.
HER: But a whole week...that's a along time...(Now i was going to have to get really firm, but hubby came to the rescue and reminded me of our sick cats.)
ME: I want my ME time, it's really important to me, besides if hubby is gone, no one is here to give the kitties their medicine.

She caved!  Well, she let me go as I said we were expecting a call, otherwise the attack would have gone on and on until I was exhausted again. Be on your guard at all times and never let your defenses down. Make your boundaries really clear and never back down. Never promise anything you can't give and never go back on your promise. Don't ever back down. Stay strong, you'll need to be.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. Psalm 28:7

I am making it, a moment at a time, a minute at a time, a day at a time. I am getting stronger and healthier.