I have been doing quite a bit of research on-line regarding NPD recently and finally feel the courage to share some of my story. I knew from an early age that my family was not right. I have memories before the age of 2 where my mom would play dead and then laugh when I screamed. She often used to do sadistic things and then intermittently comfort me or laugh at me. One time when I was around the age of two I woke up from a nap to find all my stuffed animals gone – I remember her tucking me in that day too – she seemed very loving and kind as a mother should. I remember feeling very happy. But when I woke up the animals were gone. I walked into her room to ask and she told me I was bad and they left because they hated me. I began crying and looking for them, she just laughed. She never showed me where she hid them - they just showed up again one day - back in my room. I believe it was then I first took in the message that I was bad and unlovable. As an adult looking back at myself as a toddler I see I had to – I depended on this sick person to take care of me. Of course I didn't have that thought process at the time. But this event stuck with me into adulthood and took several session of emdr to to reduce the trauma I continued to feel from it.

As I learn more and more about being the daughter of a mother with NPD I see that as a child I took on bits of both roles - the golden child and the scapegoat. I am the oldest and I was the one who naturally succeeded in school so I got most of the positive attention in that way. But I never ate it up - her attention towards my success in public and her horrible treatment of me in private disgusted me - probably beginning around the third grade. I always fought back and had no fear of the repercussions, which often ended in increased physical abuse (along with the obvious mental and emotional). I hated being the golden child - I knew instinctively that she was using me and I hated her for it. I couldn’t have put into words at that time but I knew that she didn’t care for me or really care about anything I did. I felt that if I gave into her game I would die - the emotional decimation was scarier than the physical threat. I made myself into a scapegoat - although in reality my sister was probably the true participant in this role. Because of my tendency to fight back and drive to push her farther into her insanity I received most of the beatings. My sister would leave the situation and shut up as she was expected to do. This personality trait did not do much to help me out as an adult and I have received quite a bit of therapy in the past but haven't been to see anyone in a while. I see I need to go back.

While receiving this therapy I went no contact for four years - it was a VERY healthy choice. However, around two years ago I decided to see my family again after the death of a grandparent. My father was then dx with cancer and I became his caregiver (along with my mom who had back problems - needed emergency back surgery during my father's treatment - both of them were living with me in small apt so my father could receive treatment in one of the top 10 hospitals in the nation). Having them both in my house about killed me and broke me down. I unfortunately let my mom wheedle her way back into my life during this time and the year following my father’s death.

I wish I hadn’t and now that I am pulling out of it I am disappointed that I allowed it to occur. Her increasing mental illness was right in front of my face as my father got sicker and sicker and it was disgusting to observe. She cared more about herself and how his illness affected her. She lashed out at me and everyone else around her. She became even more infantile and abusive – yet I continued to let her in. She sat in a chair here in my house and did nothing – wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t look at anyone. Anyway, I have let myself sink deeper and deeper into her web. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let this happen again. Since I let them back into my life I have experienced increasing depression, greater feelings of self loathing, and a host of other emotional troubles. I was recently able to take a step back and see that I have been spiraling down into a deep dark hole. I need to get back out.

Just yesterday I made the decision to again cut her out of my life. She is horrible to me. I needed an acl reconstruction and meniscus repair. I made the mistake of having her help me during the recovery period. She continues to have some back pain and uses it to get as much attention as possible. I knew this would come in to play but I naively felt she would help me out. I think it was because she did care for me when I was 17 following a very bad car accident that left me in a wheelchair for a couple of month and required four surgeries over a year and a half. I guess I thought she would take care of me now – but I soon realized there was no way she going to because she was getting nothing out it.

When I was really hurt following that accident I still lived at home and she got a lot of attention from her friends as I had nearly died. This was a routine knee surgery and she was hours away from any kind of accolades – there was no hope for her caring for me. She actually started complaining of knee pain and kept saying that she might soon need knee surgery herself – I have never heard her complain of her knees – she does complain about almost everything else - it was so classic. She never asked me how I was feeling and expected me to constantly check in with her about her knees, her back, her finger, her toe. It was sooo classic. Anyway, the week following my surgery I realized it wasn't going well - what a shock right?? She did nothing but complain so I hired a housecleaner, had groceries delivered, hired a mobile dog groomer (she brought two dogs with her), sent the laundry out to be washed, dried and folded. My neighbor took her two dogs and my 1 out to be walked 3-5 times per day to help me out. Yet my mom only complained about everything she had to do – which was very little. She cooked once a day (maybe made me a sandwich or brought me something to drink, put dishes into the dish washer and vacuumed for around 5 min. per day between house cleanings to pick up the dog hair. It was a very bad decision on my part to do this but I was deluding myself and thought it might be ok. I am divorced and live on my own. I do have friends that offered to help but I also broke my foot (painting my mom’s house) 5 months ago and received a lot of help from them at that time. I’ve kinda used up all my help at this point.

The biggest issue for me following this surgery was driving, as it was my right knee- I wasn't supposed to be able to drive for 6 weeks and could only take a month off work. I was able to drive sooner than expected but I have a long commute so it took me some time to work up to it. Once I was able to drive there wasn’t much for her do around here. I was feeling better and was up doing more things for myself (and for her of course). As this continued I became more and more angry – she is the laziest most entitled person I know. She wouldn’t even get up off the couch to help my neighbor get the dogs out of the door. Anyway, at this point I told her I was ready for her to go home BUT SHE WOULDN’T LEAVE!!! Of course I knew better than to tell her in an honest way. I told her I knew how much she had done and how hard it was for her and that I didn’t want to put her out anymore. But she still wouldn’t go. It was very frustrating and I could no longer hold back. Horror of all horrors I began expressing my wants and needs and sort of demanding that she do a few things around here if she was going to stay. I just couldn’t take caring for her while I’m still on one crutch and in a huge leg brace. It was just ludicrous.

She lives in a rural area and doesn't have the luxury of all the delivery services I have where I live and I was beginning to take care of her so she didn’t want to go. She was doing much less than she had to at home and was doing next to nothing here. For me it became much more work than if I was on my own. She began to sleep until 1:30 in the afternoon on a bed in my living room, move to the couch and then watch TV or play games on her phone or my iPad all day. She would get angry with me if I got up earlier than her and ate while she slept. She refused to leave the house to do anything resembling fun and got mad if my friends wanted to come over or if I made plans to go out with them. She began yelling at me daily and became more and more abusive. She said horrible horrible things - things your worst enemy would say to you. We began fighting like crazy. As I got up and around more I realized her dogs had scratched my hardwood floors, tore my curtains, ruined my couch and stained my throw pillows. They also killed the grass in my front lawn. She of course didn’t care and got mad it me for noticing it.

It would take her three days to complete a very simple request on my part. If I started to do on my own even after this amount of time she would yell at me and tell me how rude I was because she was getting ready to do it. Or she would tell me I’m going to take care of that after this show or after one more game. Once that was done it was one more show or it she would have to get something to eat. The last time she did this it took her 40 minutes to eat a sandwich. When I got up to take of the task she would yell at me, tell me I was rude and expected everything to revolve around me. That I expected people to jump when said jump - that I was crazy and ridiculous. A selfish and thoughtless person. Of course she couldn’t see if that WAS case it would have happened three days earlier. One day one of dogs peed on my bed. I took all the laundry down my stairs and put it in her car. I asked her to drive it to the wash and fold while I drove into work. It is five minutes away and the people who work there will come and take it out of the car. When I came home 3-4 hours later the laundry was still in the car. I came upstairs and she was laying on couch playing a game. She hadn’t showered (at the end when she wouldn’t go out she wouldn’t shower, brush her teeth or her hair for 5-6 days). I stared feeling worse and worse. I was feeling very isolated and cut off from everyone. I didn’t want any of my friends to be around her. One set of friends did come over and she joined us for lunch. Of course she turned on her charm – they thought she was sooo delightful. It just put me back to childhood when everyone else thought the same. It only makes me hate her more when she is so nice out in public. Throughout my childhood she volunteered for everything and used it to point out what a good person she was. It also made me sick.

Anyway, she finally left yesterday after being here nearly 6 weeks. She and my father lived here for 5 months last year. Being in direct contact with her for so much time has been very negative for me. I know I made the right decision again but I am back to where I was 6 years ago when I initially cut her out. I feel sad, worthless and unwanted. I know why I feel this way, I know what she is, I knew what to expect but it doesn’t help me feel better right now. I know it will get better but I don’t know why I continue to delude myself and hope that things will get better. I know I really need to go back to therapy.

It is worse for me this time around because I’ve changed a lot and didn’t have some of the defenses I had as a child. I see now I was/am actually much more targetable to her. This time around I began to do everything I could to win her affections and it makes me sick to see what I was doing. So desperate for a love I’ll never have.

She and my father were also hoarders - after talking to them again after those four years of no contact I went to their house and freaked out. All of the rooms were unusable and full of junk. It was disgusting. I cleaned out 3 tons of crap (I’m not exaggerating – it was weighed as my father transported it to the dump) from their house, which still left two rooms and a two car garage full of crap and unusable in the house. It is a simple 3 bed/1bath home. Then after my father's death I painted the parts of my mom's house that were cleaned out, helped to clean out yet another room, and helped her do other remodeling. During the time I was caring for them I also lost over 10,000 of income from a small private practice I have (I worked my regular full time job). Despite all of this my mother will tell me I do nothing for her - that I only take and have done nothing to help her. My sister stays away from tasks like this. I drove three hours to help my mom with her house - my sister lives 20 minutes away and has done next to nothing. They reimbursed her for gas money when she drove to my house, gave her money to water their plants while they lived here, and paid her for other things. She came down to my house during my father's illness and barely helped – she actually managed to make things worse with her rages.

Anyway, sorry this is so long. It just goes on and on and anyone here knows my story well. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it. I am grateful for a place where I can express these feelings and the actions of my family. People who have not experienced it have no idea. I have a couple childhood friends who have seen her in action. I can talk to them a bit but they have their own issues with their parents and after all these years it's just the same story over and over. Newer friends don't/can't want to hear about or believe how horrible my mother truly is. There is no way for them to understand what an abomination of nature the NPD mother really is.