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@thisismarilynb - Thank you for your reply.
I was very very shy in school - loved to be 'teacher's pet' in elementary school - gravitating to being appreciated by an adult for following what the teacher said, and showing initiative and inquisitiveness - caring about learning, and doing the right thing! (Did NOT make me 'cool', let alone popular with the in-crowd.)
Well, at some point I came out of my shell, and I suppose it was when I was in the workplace for a few years, though I wouldn't say I was very assertive (not good at having boundaries, or finding true friends). Have to think about when it was I really had some comfort socially - more likely it was when I was able to go dancing during college (back in the late 70s - sweet days of "Saturday Night Fever" and discos), even teaching a class of 100+ fellow college students with my then dance partner, and creating our college's first Dance Marathon weekend! I still have the greatest joy whenever disco music comes along, but there's not been anywhere to go dancing for decades, not to mention finding someone to dance with!!! (Always been a challenge, to my great sorrow!, and BOY have I tried - clubs, dance partner sites, and much more.)
I'm not a formal, stiff dance competition dancer, but more of what you might see Fred & Ginger doing - if it's a good day and I have a fun, impromptu dance partner - but I've only experienced that one or two times in my life, and it was the greatest feeling in the world - like freedom, like joy, like flying! When I have done some line-dancing - like outdoors at a summer fest where there's a teacher & the public walks by - or at a friend's wedding reception when we all are doing line-dancing (no partner needed!!), I have gotten the most unexpected, joyous responses from folks on the sidelines grinning with enjoyment in watching me dance, and I at the same time am encouraging them to join in! But no more teaching for me - I want to DANCE, not teach it. No luck with this, and I don't know why I even maintain the hope it could still happen?!
ANYWAY, I digress: Going through therapy since my mid-20s I uncovered the condition of narcissism in both parents, who in my experience had a very unhappy, often miserable (for my mother) marriage, one which I NEVER wanted to fall into in my own life. What made and still makes it even harder is that there are no visible signs of this behavior for anyone else to see, or validate. AND, my only sibling rarely chose to talk or acknowledge it with me, leaving me to feel isolated, fearing losing my sanity, and never having any validation, except when my dear maternal grandmother listened to me one time in college, and I at least then knew I was not completely alone.
I do know that my sister has suffered greatly from my mother's unending neediness to the point she attempted suicide, and she was a respected geriatric physician! (Not enough for either of my parents to be satisfied with her accomplishments). Fortunately she survived, but to this day my alert, aged mother has no idea she was the cause. I love both of my parents dearly, and yet know this is what happened in my life, at a time, until recently, when these things were not discussed, you were hugely ungrateful is you even tried to bring it up (I tried!), and know that I will probably live with this huge black hole inside of me for the remainder of my days, quite to the contrary of all appearances...a crazy-making situation, as well!
There is a lifetime of fall-out from this, co-existing with what my parents would time and again show as a willingness to do anything for us (on their terms, I suppose), but to help us along the way, within reason, but beyond what many families are able to do. That leads to a lot of guilt, first for feeling so damaged by behavior no one acknowledges as damaging, and further, for feeling I can never repay what they did for us, nor does it seem I will ever recover from the damage to my development, self-esteem, ability to find a healthy, supportive life partner, or fulfilling work, though I have many advanced degrees, a great resume, and glowing recommendations. But I could not stay in one place for too long, feeling like an impostor, that I would eventually come up short, be lacking, fail at something, and I would be "finished". There was never a feeling of safety, just constant effort to prove myself, but also wanting to learn about so much in the world, meeting interesting people, but never being enough, and feeling it would all end abruptly, which actually can be a self-fulfilling prophecy, in the most insidious ways.
I still seek a therapist who has knowledge and experience in dealing with the hidden dangers of being raised by narcissists. I have yet to find that, but I keep looking. But basically, nothing has ever changed.
I may be more confident - at least initially - but never find a setting where I feel valued, where shortcomings are not fatal, and where joy is possible.
The only time was dancing.
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That is quite a story from @thisismarilynb and it mirrors my experience in many ways, and I thank you for taking the time to share your experience.
I too was always "teacher's pet" and throughout my early life, until I went to college I tended to seek out the parents of my friends, even calling them "mom." My mother was controlling and also a narcissist. My teenage years were difficult for me because of the abuse at home, having 2 alcoholic parents. I was also the youngest of three, my sisters 8 and 10 years old, so when I was a teenager they had already left home and while they too were abused, they were unaware of what was happening to me. While I was an outstanding student, I began acting out at school, which led to a referral to a therapist, at which time I told this person that I was having a relationship with my then 16 year old best friend, who is now a local celebrity on one of our news channels. After a period of time my parents wanted to know what I was telling the therapist and threatened her with a lawsuit to gain information. Subsequently, my parents were told about my relationship, which caused great turmoil in our household. It was at that point that my parents sent me to a sex therapist so I could be "fixed." I am laughing as I write this because I can still hear my father say, " it is just like if you have a broken arm honey, this therapy will "fix" you." My mother destroyed everything I had received from my friend, changed our phone number and things of that nature, even threatened to make me attend another high school. After a period of time I was "rewarded" with my first car, but still remained in contact, surreptitiously, with my friend.
Later, wanting to attend college and wanting my parents to pay for my education, I acted as though I had been "fixed." However, when my sister took me to the college, which was not my first choice, but rather my mother's, my sister told me that my mother had said I could not major in art, something that I had wanted to do. I was only allowed to take one art class each semester. A perfect set up to fail, as my major in college was Ag/Business which meant a lot of science, which was not my strength. During college I did all the "right" things, joined a sorority as one of my sisters had, dated boys etc. Essentially living a double life, which was difficult to say the least.
In any event, all of this shaped who I was or who I became when I graduated from college. I dated men and introduced them to my parents, who were thrilled. However, at some point after my then boyfriend broke off our relationship, I realized that I could no longer live such a lie, or rather live a "fake" life. While the breakup was rather heartbreaking, it was also fortuitous, as I met a woman, introduced her to my parents and we began a 10 year relationship. While it was imperfect as many relationships are, I recognized that I was drawn to people who were controlling, probably because I wanted someone to take care of me in some way. Afterall, my mother often lamented about how depressed she was after I was born, and how as a baby I was passed around to the women in our neighborhood for the first 6 months of my life because my mother could not take care of me. That care was left to my sisters and neighbors. Later, and after my mother died, I met someone else, the sociopath with whom I spent the next 10 years with.
It was not until I became afflicted with whatever disease I have that I have become more empowered, think I am a great person, humanitarian and my kindness to others knows no bounds, The exact opposite of my mother and one of my older sisters also a narcissistic bully, the one who stopped talking to me 2 years ago and who is homophobic The other night while working on my various art projects, I thought to myself, "it took me to age 60 to finally like myself and I think I am a great person." In some ways this felt sad because it took me so long to reach this revelation of sorts. Admittedly, I finally had that pity party that @brandysparks spoke about in an earlier post. And while no one was here to pick me up off the floor, it was as though my pity party was really more of a revelation.
Also, my recent experience with the Christian based therapist brought back to me so many memories of those times when I did not value myself or what I was doing currently in my life. I can still hear her telling me when I told her about my great sense of foreboding that " I am not getting this, God is telling me you are going to be okay." Total invalidation of my feelings. And for what it is worth I have gone ahead and submitted a formal complaint against this therapist with the California Board of Behavioral Health. It was not without great thought and consideration that I did this, because I know that the process of making such a complaint is long and arduous. However, I am at that point in my life where I am no longer willing to put up with instances where I feel there has been a great sense of injustice. I guess I must owe my "disease" a thank you, because in the past I would not have done something like this. Speaking up for myself and things of that nature. I am still kind and give much of myself to others, but now recognize that sometimes I have given too much of myself to the wrong people, and I have stopped doing this.
While I currently have "no one to talk to" a social worker from my insurance company is calling me next week, because I really do need someone to talk to about how I feel with this chronic illness. I am more tired than usual, not sleeping, but still force myself to stay up late to work on my art, still lift weights when I don't want to because I feel that if I stop, then I am giving into my "illness" and I do not want to give it any more power than it has presently. I hope this makes sense.
I have said before that I am not a great fan of "social media." However this platform feels like a safe place to share and exchange information. Not only do the experiences of others help me, it also gives me a chance to help and encourage others. It feels like a "safe" environment to tell my stories and speak of my experiences with the hope that my story might help another person. I still wake up everyday and tell myself, " I got another day, so many did not, and I am going to make this one count."
Thank you to anyone who reads this. I hope that you find a good therapist, knowing that good ones are hard to find these days. I wish I could teach you how to feel joy, but I know that has to come from within. I hope that this platform brings you some sense of peace, knowing that there are others who suffer as you do. If you were my neighbor, I would do everything possible to show you how I have developed more self confidence and more of a sense of self worth.
Hang in there, you have this.