Three Strikes
Hi, my name is Nikki, and I am the daughter of a narcissist alcoholic. Man, that feels good to say out loud. You see most of my life I have brushed past the truth of who my mother is, made excuses for her, allowed her to treat me terribly and still craved her love. Allowed her to make me a casualty in a war that I wasn't involved in. I have wished most of my life I suppose as we all do for something I didn't have. For a mom to love me unconditionally, there is a little girl in me who will always wonder why I am not good enough to deserve that. The adult version of me, the one who is a mother herself knows that she isn't capable of unconditional love. I can't speak to why she isn't; I just know that she isn't. I have held onto this hope that she could change, that she could rise above herself and be better, that me becoming better would make her want to be better too. All that has done is set us further apart. Don't get me wrong I have many faults, and I fail every day, but I knew very early on that I wanted to be better then who I came from. I wanted to heal the things that cut me so to speak, so I put in the work. I sat in the garbage and the muck, and I felt all the things I didn't want to so I could let them go. I have forgiven people who will never sorry, my mother included.
So, Nikki, if you have forgiven her then why write about it? Well, that is a simple answer, because it is my story to tell. I have held it in and brushed past it for so long because it was easier than dealing with the backlash. Listening to her tell me that I remember things differently then she does, pointing out every mistake I have ever made and how badly I make her feel and have treated her. Because in her world the only person who has a right to be hurt is her. I am responsible for her feelings, always have been. So much so that I don't even realize that I carry that burden most of the time. I tell her the part of the truth that I know won't set her off like an atomic bomb, I don't tell her things that most daughters would share with their mother and if I had a top ten list of people to go to in a crisis, she wouldn't even come close to being on it. Why? because somehow that crisis would be trumped by whatever she has going on or how whatever I have going on makes her feel. Would you like an example? My dad died December 23rd of 2024 - and I am still in the midst of a grief I have never even come close to feeling before. Just for context my dad isn't biologically related to me, he came into my life when I wasn't even a year old, and he and my mother were together until I was in my early twenties. (I am 39 now) Now in her mind this already makes him less than - not because we aren't biologically related - but because they are no longer together. Her hurt from whatever happened between the two of them must be my hurt too. (responsible for her feelings remember) My dad and I were very close when I was growing up, he was my preferred parent as is true of so many little girls and their dads. Over the last decade or so some of that closeness has faded for a multitude of reasons. He got married and had another little girl to raise. I don't hold that against him - life happens and relationships ebb and flow. We both neglected the relationship - that being said, never has who my dad is to me or how much he means to me wavered.
Okay now that you are caught up on that I can tell you that he got sick in October and that brought us back together. I guess cancer has a way of doing that Now when my dad got sick, I listened to my mother explain to me on the phone for forty minutes or so why I shouldn't be sad about him being sick and explaining to me all the reasons why she wasn't. Strike One.
I visited my dad throughout his journey with cancer and I was with him the night before he passed - I got to say some things I really needed to. All of which I hid from my mother, because again it was easier than the atomic bomb clean-up. When my dad passed, she knew before I told her - did she call me to see how I was doing? She did not. She did tell me she was sorry which I could tell was one of the hardest things she has ever said and that she didn't really mean it, but I digress. We planned my dad's funeral on Christmas Even and on Christmas Day I sat on the couch unable to convince myself that I wanted to be a human. Did she check on me those days? She did not. His funeral was held on December 28th and my big brother flew in from GA on the 27th to attend. He chose not to disclose to my mother that he was coming because their relationship is strained to say the least. Not my circus not my monkey's. I support him making whatever decision is best for his mental health. When she asked me if he was coming, I said I didn't know, maybe I should have told the truth, but I didn't. It was easier not to. Some text messages were exchanged about her wanting to come to the funeral, which neither my brother or I thought was a good idea and frankly we didn't want her there. Why? A multitude of reasons but I will give you this, when he was diagnosed, she told me she didn't really feel bad about it, and she had no sympathy for his wife. Why attend the funeral of someone you didn't care about having cancer? But Nikki, she wanted to be there for you and your brother. No, she didn't, she wanted to make it about her because she wasn't receiving enough attention. Harsh? Absolutely. True? One hundred percent. Strike Two.
Following the funeral we haven't spoken much. I haven't had anything to say, my focus has been on trying to stay afloat and figure out this new normal. Has she checked on me? She has not. The crazy train came to town yesterday and we argued, wasn't my intention but she knows how to push just the right buttons so she can tell everyone how mean I am to her. She asked me if I knew how my FB post about all the things my dad was to me made her feel. Uh, excuse me? Let me repeat that in case you fear you read it wrong. She asked me if I knew how my post about my dead dad on FB made her feel. See I said in my post that he taught me how to drive and I didn't give her credit for driving me to driving class a couple of times. Apparently, she also needed the credit in the post about my dead dad. Strike Three.
So, Nikki, if you have forgiven her then why write about it? Well, that is a simple answer, because it is my story to tell. I have held it in and brushed past it for so long because it was easier than dealing with the backlash. Listening to her tell me that I remember things differently then she does, pointing out every mistake I have ever made and how badly I make her feel and have treated her. Because in her world the only person who has a right to be hurt is her. I am responsible for her feelings, always have been. So much so that I don't even realize that I carry that burden most of the time. I tell her the part of the truth that I know won't set her off like an atomic bomb, I don't tell her things that most daughters would share with their mother and if I had a top ten list of people to go to in a crisis, she wouldn't even come close to being on it. Why? because somehow that crisis would be trumped by whatever she has going on or how whatever I have going on makes her feel. Would you like an example? My dad died December 23rd of 2024 - and I am still in the midst of a grief I have never even come close to feeling before. Just for context my dad isn't biologically related to me, he came into my life when I wasn't even a year old, and he and my mother were together until I was in my early twenties. (I am 39 now) Now in her mind this already makes him less than - not because we aren't biologically related - but because they are no longer together. Her hurt from whatever happened between the two of them must be my hurt too. (responsible for her feelings remember) My dad and I were very close when I was growing up, he was my preferred parent as is true of so many little girls and their dads. Over the last decade or so some of that closeness has faded for a multitude of reasons. He got married and had another little girl to raise. I don't hold that against him - life happens and relationships ebb and flow. We both neglected the relationship - that being said, never has who my dad is to me or how much he means to me wavered.
Okay now that you are caught up on that I can tell you that he got sick in October and that brought us back together. I guess cancer has a way of doing that Now when my dad got sick, I listened to my mother explain to me on the phone for forty minutes or so why I shouldn't be sad about him being sick and explaining to me all the reasons why she wasn't. Strike One.
I visited my dad throughout his journey with cancer and I was with him the night before he passed - I got to say some things I really needed to. All of which I hid from my mother, because again it was easier than the atomic bomb clean-up. When my dad passed, she knew before I told her - did she call me to see how I was doing? She did not. She did tell me she was sorry which I could tell was one of the hardest things she has ever said and that she didn't really mean it, but I digress. We planned my dad's funeral on Christmas Even and on Christmas Day I sat on the couch unable to convince myself that I wanted to be a human. Did she check on me those days? She did not. His funeral was held on December 28th and my big brother flew in from GA on the 27th to attend. He chose not to disclose to my mother that he was coming because their relationship is strained to say the least. Not my circus not my monkey's. I support him making whatever decision is best for his mental health. When she asked me if he was coming, I said I didn't know, maybe I should have told the truth, but I didn't. It was easier not to. Some text messages were exchanged about her wanting to come to the funeral, which neither my brother or I thought was a good idea and frankly we didn't want her there. Why? A multitude of reasons but I will give you this, when he was diagnosed, she told me she didn't really feel bad about it, and she had no sympathy for his wife. Why attend the funeral of someone you didn't care about having cancer? But Nikki, she wanted to be there for you and your brother. No, she didn't, she wanted to make it about her because she wasn't receiving enough attention. Harsh? Absolutely. True? One hundred percent. Strike Two.
Following the funeral we haven't spoken much. I haven't had anything to say, my focus has been on trying to stay afloat and figure out this new normal. Has she checked on me? She has not. The crazy train came to town yesterday and we argued, wasn't my intention but she knows how to push just the right buttons so she can tell everyone how mean I am to her. She asked me if I knew how my FB post about all the things my dad was to me made her feel. Uh, excuse me? Let me repeat that in case you fear you read it wrong. She asked me if I knew how my post about my dead dad on FB made her feel. See I said in my post that he taught me how to drive and I didn't give her credit for driving me to driving class a couple of times. Apparently, she also needed the credit in the post about my dead dad. Strike Three.
36-40, FNew
