The rant. Apologies.
Over these past few months I've been attempting to grow as a person, to learn about myself and the scars I carry. I am anxious, low self-esteem and people pleasing.
Through my digging I have discovered that I was most likely parentified. The daughter servant expected to help out and be responsible for far more than was right. I was my mother's mini therapist. Always had to be skinnier/more popular/better and yet not ever good enough despite my best efforts. I always wished I was someone else, dreaming myself away in stacks of library books. Always wishing I had been a boy, because maybe then I would have been as good as my two brothers.
Anyway, through my digging I have discovered (I think) that my mum is a covert narcissist.
She fits all the criteria.
- Perfect to the outside world
- Silent treatment
- Walking on eggshells with her
- Obsessed with looks
When I opened up about my anxiety to her a few months back it was minimized. Treated it like it was an attention thing. Pushed me straight back down in the ditch after I has risked talking about it.
My dad I'm not too sure about. Whether he is a narcissist, enabler or just emotionally stunted. I don't talk to him much because he is literally like a person with the title "dad" attached. There is no emotional value.
He believes that giving money shows he cares, but has no capacity to talk emotions with anyone.
I feel like I am constantly carrying a big backpack of shame and sadness with me. And I am sick of it.
I have moved far far away from my parents. Only see them sporadically. But letting go of the self image that was crammed down my throat proves a lot harder than I ever thought.
Therapy is unaffordable at this point so I am choosing here to unpack my bag of sh***y emotions.
