Individual and generational unresolved wounds are the breeding grounds for personality disorders.There are a wide spectrum of narcissistic traits that develop from insecurities. Increased symptoms allow for more specific typification such as malignant or covert narcissism.

The development of a child’s brain is significantly hindered when they are exclusively raised by narcissistic personality types who hide or refuse to heal their own wounds. They don’t have any capacity to protect or care for the child. At the time in my life when it would have been age-appropriate for me to further develop a unique sense of identity and individuality, and start to think about living an independent life, I was being rigidly controlled by very messy people and circumstances.

When my mom eventually decided to divorce my stepfather, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was still a sexual threat to me. He was drinking heavily all the time, not able to hold any kind of conversation, and hallucinating due to past brain damage. He was not participating in their marriage in any way. We found bottles hidden all over the house and he drank a case of Milwaukee’s Best cans daily.

My mom moved rapidly into another relationship and I moved just as fast into smoking, sneaking around, and hanging out with older men. I gained some physical independence with my own car but it also increased the opportunities for self-destructive behavior with friends who jumped at the chance to be a bad influence on me.

I smoked weed with my dad and my stepmom, and they smoked weed with my two younger sisters, which effectively meant no one paid attention to anything that was happening in their household. My mom wanted to be the cool parent who was okay with teen sex and a little weed, because that’s what she wanted from her own parents as a teen. When she felt the judgement and scorn she received from other parents for being permissive about that lifestyle, she changed her mind about what I was allowed to do. That didn’t change her desire to be the cool mom, though, so she continued to encourage my teen friends to smoke, have sex openly, drink alcohol, use bad words, and anything else their parents would not allow at home. She told my friends not to include me in it, and suddenly she was more popular with my friends than I was. My mom craved attention from my teen peers because it was the chance she had always wanted to be popular in high school. I was stuck between seeking her approval and avoiding her criticism. I could never win.

At 17, I tried to run away, but she broke down sobbing and screaming. I had never seen her that emotional, and I still had not been allowed to – she hid herself from me and did not acknowledge her emotions with me. When she was able to explain something, it was partly because she didn’t want me to leave her alone. It was mostly because she ran away from home at 17, and the memory triggered her. She didn’t want to think or have others think that she had failed as badly as her own mother did. 

At 18, I got into colleges all over the country, and she convinced me I would miss home too much. I loathed home, yet I believed her, so I got into an abusive relationship with a controlling rage monster and moved in with him. That gave me somewhere else to spend my time besides at home. I started college while maintaining the same chaotic dynamic with my boyfriend that I had with my mother. My warped brain wanted things to stay the same and it had been activated to believe this was normal. I responded with compassion and loyal strength when he used drugs, hit his head against the wall, lied to me, stole from me, and cheated on me. I sought his approval in every way. After he broke up with me to be with a married coworker, we stayed friends, and he continued to manipulate and steal from me. I sought the approval of everyone else in my life in the same way for many more years. I invited and encouraged bad behavior from others and I gave a sympathetic and listening ear in return. 

I had four self-absorbed parents who weren’t able to parent me, and my brain responded in the only way it knew how to survive. Parts of me became smaller and quieter. My emotions were unregulated with no guidance from a caregiver. I lost pieces
of my authentic self while trying everything I could to gain the approval and attention that children require to feel comfortable and safe. My brain and body moved away from the natural human state in which the systems are able to regulate themselves and return to stasis.

The dynamics of being required to attend to all of my parents’ emotional needs, combined with sexual abuse, inadequate nutrition, constant criticism and humiliation, and pressure to keep up appearances created a perfect storm. My nervous system was
in survival mode: I had no immune system, I had no digestive cues like hunger or satiety, I was dysregulated on a rapidly swinging pendulum, and I had no sense of my own identity.

This feels like a stopping point for Part Three. You have to trust me that the story gets better! Part Four of my previously 3-part series is coming soon.