Rainy Day People

 

 

 

            I am rather fond of Gordon Lightfoot songs.  He has one in particular called “Rainy Day People”.  Until a few years ago, I would smile sadly during that song because I knew I was one of those Rainy Day People.  I was always that person that others could run to whenever they needed help.  And I would help; retreating into the background after all was said in done – checking in occasionally to make sure everything was okay.  I was more dependable than the seasons and more loyal than a hunting dog.  I even had one friend tell me point blank that if she ever felt the need to put her life back on track, I would be the one she would go to.  It seemed such a noble existence when I was younger.

            Now, I realize it is an illusion based in codependency.  Being a Rainy Day Person on occasion is a good thing.  Making it a way of life is stupidity at best – suicidal at worst.  It’s an empty existence, where one lives vicariously through others, finding identity in their admiration because you were taught that complete selflessness was your gift to the world and anything less made you worthless.  That is what a narcissistic parent teaches you.  You only have an identity when you do something they can admire without being threatened by it.  This is why Narcissists often produce other Narcissists.  The child is taught that what matters above all else is how others see you.  My mother stated this often; she also had another stipulation – what she thought was more important that what anyone else thought.  In other words, her view of her children was suppose to be the only one that mattered, but we also had to give her something the rest of the world could praise her for.  My mother’s needs were paramount.  Nothing else took priority.

            At least that was what she preached.  Many Narcissistic parents do.  And the small child, not having any other frame of reference, swallows this expectation without questioning it.  Usually.

            Looking back, I realize although I bought a lot of my mother’s false beliefs, yet I never quite accepted the major ones.  If I had, I may have then been forced to rebel as a child and then run the possibility of becoming a Narcissist myself.  Or I may had bought the whole ball of wax and still be at my mother’s side, catering to her every whim, afraid of doing anything that would cause me to lose favor in her site.

            I didn’t do either.  Why not is something I can only theorize about.  A big part of it was my religion.  Another was being blessed with an analytical mind and having the opportunity to observe a woman who did cater to every whim of her abusers during my preteen years.  There may had been other factors I am no longer aware of.  Whatever the reasons, I believed in God and the things taught to me at church and unlike most children, I did not connect my belief in the spiritual with my parents.  The only explanation I can come up with is that my mother, in her self-centeredness, left me too often in the care of people more religious than her, who believed that children were a precious gift from God.  She did not work outside the home and I was an only child for the first two years of my life.  Yet, I spent a great deal of time in the care of my mother’s stepmother and other relatives.  My father worked a lot.  I was told that God was always there for me and yet my parents weren’t.  Therefore, Mom and Dad were not God.  And if Mom and Dad are not God, then they probably aren’t perfect and not always right.  My mother says I’m silently rebellious.  She says I’ve always have been.

I did not start confrontations growing up.  I did not scream or throw things.  I did not slam doors or deliberately disobeyed my parents.  I just stood there and let them preach at me and then go on, in the most effective way as I saw it, to accomplish the tasks they expected of me.  As the oldest child, it was my duty to be a surrogate parent.  I made bottles, changed diapers, prepared meals, made sure everyone else got their chores done, etc.

My sister Sarah told me about one of her memories of our childhood. I don't remember this actual incident, but it followed the pattern of so many other incidences. Mom had slept in late one school morning, and I was trying to fix breakfast for my siblings before I left for school. (I was probably in first grade.)  I was trying to figure out how to make oatmeal. Unfortunately, my reading skills were not advanced enough to read the instructions, and Sarah went into the master bedroom and chewed out my mother for not getting up and fixing her children breakfast. My mother told my sister that she couldn't talk to her own mother that way, and Sarah said she didn't care because she hated her. Though my sister doesn't remember getting hit, we're both sure that's what probably followed.

I do remember rushing home from school during lunch in first grade, so I would have enough time to fix peanut butter sandwiches for everyone and eat, before I rushed back to school. I even cut the sandwiches into little triangles, arranged them on a large plate, and then served the rest of my family like a waiter at a party. Years later, when I complained about this, my mother said, "But you liked fixing us lunch! That's why I let you do it!"  Strange, I don’t remember any joy from it.  Only resentment and fear.

One other thing I remember was a couple who were friends with my parents.  Tom and Karen lived only a few blocks away from us.  Tom was one of my dad’s hunting buddies.  I never liked Tom.  For all intents and purposes, I stayed out of his way and ignored his existence.  I’m sure he realized my distaste for him.  I once glared at him with total loathing, when he tried giving my baby sister some beer.  Drinking alcohol was against our religion and Tom knew this.  I may have even said something at the time.  After that I stayed close to my youngest sister whenever we were at his home, watching Tom like a hawk whenever he came near her.  The only time I didn’t mind being around Tom was when we were on his speedboat and he was driving.  I would sit up on the bow and feel the spray of the water, while he and Dad talked. 

Karen was a true Rainy Day Person.  Her whole life was defined by serving those who abused her.  When I was eleven, my mother use to tell me horrifying story after horrifying story of the way Tom treated Karen.  I would watch her at their house, catering to Tom’s every snarled word.  There was only one person who had more power over Karen than Tom and that was her own mother, who treated her just as badly and with even less consideration of her health and wellbeing.

Everything about Karen screamed “non-entity”.  Her clothes were faded, her hair was dull and her eyes were lifeless.  She was weariness personified.  Every sentence she uttered sounded like she was apologizing for her existence.  The only time I saw her smile was when she was playing with Tom’s miniature poodles.  She couldn’t even claim them for herself, even though she almost exclusively took care of the two high maintenance, over-breed creatures. 

She ended up in the hospital once when I was eleven or so.  Mom and I went over to check on her to make sure she was okay.  We asked her if there was anything we could do for her.  She was so shocked that someone would actually come over and take care of her, that she began crying.  While she was bedridden, I went over after school to make sure the dogs were taken care of.  That was the only thing she let would me do.  She used to chatter happily about the dogs, while I groomed them.  Though I had never been fond of those poodles, I realized that they were her only true source of happiness and I cared for them accordingly.  I also knew that I never wanted to live the type of life she did.

In her misery, Karen gave me one precious gift.  She planted the realization that total devotion and sacrifice were not all they were cracked to be, and that most abusive people won’t change how they treat you just because you are giving them what they want.  Though I didn’t fully understand those concepts until a few years ago, I do know that without her memory, it would have probably taken me a lot longer to realize what I was doing to myself.

There is a difference between being selfless and subservient.  It’s not always an easy thing to distinguish.  When you are selfless without subservient, you receive respect.  When you are subservient, you usually receive abuse, in my experience at least.  I think it’s a matter of seeing yourself as an equal to the other person.  I once took the coat of an office enemy back to her apartment, when she had left it at work, purely as a matter of principle.  I did not even try to sound sweet.  I just said that I knew she would need it the next morning and left abruptly.  After that, she was no longer my enemy, but considered me a truly wonderful person and announced to the whole office what I had done.  On the other hand, when I act apologetically, as if my selflessness was something I had to explain or excuse, I often get treated like a doormat.  We shouldn’t have to apologize for being a good person, nor should we expect a reward for it.  There is a power in just being a good person for the sake of being a good person.  I think it’s called self respect.

My mother would be shocked to know that I saw a lot in common between her and Tom, not to mention the treatment Karen got from her mother and the way she treated me.  Mom, Tom and Karen’s mother all had the belief that they deserved to be waited on.  To this day, my mother resents the fact that she never had servants.

 

My mother constantly has beliefs that do not match reality.  One time I didn't talk to her for ten months, and in the middle of this, she told my youngest sister that she knew she was a great mother, because she was a friend to all her children.  My baby sister called me from Sarah's home to tell me this.  At the time, she and my brother were the only one's talking to Mom out of the five of us.  She had to because Mom and Dad were stilling paying for her college; otherwise she wouldn't have had anything to do with Mom either.  My brother was even avoiding her most of the time.  In all honesty, when my mom made this remark, her children hated her.  What can you do with denial like that?

But there were beliefs that I did internalize.  Beliefs that set me up for being an enabler of narcissists, such as:

 

I must be nice, reasonable, considerate and above all else – non-threatening.

            One of the deepest fears in my psyche is the fear of being abandoned.  It’s not an unusual fear for a small child.  What strengthened it in the first place, I can only surmise, but I can identify the concepts that feed it.

            One thing stressed constantly was that if I hurt someone's feelings, they will go away and never have anything to do with me again.  Though, I was expected to forgive others, forgiveness was not something I could receive.  Hand in hand with this was the concept that it is cruel to destroy the fantasies of others.  All my life, I was expected to respect the fantasies of others.  Now, it didn't really set well with me, but it was violently reinforced.  I can give several instances where I had reached my limit of people living lies.  Unable to take it anymore, I blew up and told these people in excruciating detail where they were being stupid.  Needless to say, my observations were not well received.  I have alienated whole groups of people that way.  Still, I was told time after time by almost all my older relatives that it was rude to "burst" someone's bubble and I have even heard me tell myself more than once that "there's no reason to destroy their fantasies".

Oh, there was a method to this madness of my elders.  It kept me in line and them from having to face the truth.  And looking back at some of my poetry, I realized this on a subconscious level.  I have several poems dealing with protecting the facades of others and being in love with a fantasy and neglecting the reality.
            This belief of not causing even the slightest harm to people contributed to a behavior pattern that baffled most of my friends.  I tend to be very analytical and decisive, yet I would back away from most conflicts and arguments even when I have a stronger position.  Most people who have met me in person would never guess that I often test as a debating personality.  I finally joined a group where I could practice debating and to my own surprise, after I got past my fears, I did very well.  Even more shocking, despite my fear that if I did start standing up for myself that I would go overboard, I was given a better position at work because I was able to handle myself well in an argument with a rude and difficult coworker.

I still fear to disagree with those I love.  During my efforts to break the harmful patterns in my life, I symbolized my basic beliefs and my counter beliefs as two characters, Agnus and Sylvia, and had them talk to each other and an “neutral” character.  The dialog between them finally helped me to see what was true conflict between them:

 

Agnus: To be honest, I have a lot of admiration for Sylvia.  She is so resourceful and competent.  I just get scared that she'll make everyone go away.

Sylvia: I know your scared, Agnus, but I only want to get rid of those people who would hurt us.  There are many people who won't leave because they love us.

Agnus: But there have been other people who said they loved us, but they went away when we stood up for ourselves.  Some of them came back when we were good again and some never did.

Sylvia: What they felt for us wasn't really love, but superiority - or a perceived sense of.  And they didn't come back because we were "good".  They came back because we were submissive. (turns to neutral character)  Can you explain this to her?

Neutral: I can explain this to both of you.  You are both right and you are both wrong.  Sylvia, you are correct when you say that these people left because their sense of power felt threatened, but you are being too harsh when you imply that they had no love for you.  Their love was a crippled thing, but it was still there.  Agnus, you were right to believe in their love, but you are wrong to blame yourself for them leaving.  It was their choice and many of them would have come back, even if you hadn't become submissive again.  Submissiveness is not the same as being good.

            After writing this, I was struck by Agnus’ child-like demeanor.  In the dialogs before this one, she acted more like an old woman that had dedicated her life to serving others, much like my parents’ friend Karen.  Sylvia was more abrasive and judgmental.  In many ways, she was a teenager and Agnus was a mother to her.  The flip in this last discussion took me completely by surprise.  I realized then that what I really feared was not hurting others, but driving them away.  This fear manifested itself in other unhealthy ways – like under-promoting myself.  I am actually still afraid to be successful in some areas because I fear people might hurt me.  Over the years, this fear has shown itself to be more complex than I ever expected, mostly due to my interactions with other narcissistic personality disorders besides my mother.  The ultimate crime in a narcissistic relationship is to show yourself superior in something to the narcissist without their permission.

 

I must be thorough and perfect.

            The second greatest crime in a relationship with a narcissist is to be flawed.  You are suppose to be the trophy by which the narcissist can prove to the rest of the world that he or she is special.  Once you have achieved trophy status, your affection and dedication is no longer good enough.  It is then your duty to make sure that other people can admire the narcissist for having you by their side.

            There are no in-betweens in the narcissistic world.  You are either perfect or you are flawed beyond redemption.  But your perfection must not threaten their perfection.  Once it does, you have become flawed.  Either way, you lose.

Of course, the narcissist doesn’t have to worry too much about the over-perfection part.  You, I and the rest of the world have flaws aplenty for the narcissist to use against us.  What’s more, your naturally occurring flaws are rarely enough to satisfy the narcissist.  They will invent more for you.  I use to think I was a lazy person because my mom always told me I was.  That was until I was berating myself in front of one of my roommates.  She stopped me and said, "Are you crazy? You're one of the last people I would call lazy!"  Then she went on to list everything I did.  Finally she asked, "Where did you ever get the idea that you were even the slightest bit lazy?"  "Well, Mom-" I said.  "Your mother's wrong!" she told me.

Forgiveness does not exist in the eyes of a narcissist either.  They will claim to have forgiven you, while detailing your horrendous crimes in the same breath.  If it is any consolation, they don’t forgive themselves either.  That is why they hide behind their imagined view of themselves

 

 

It is my duty to rescue people.

Somewhere deep in my psyche is this idea that I'm suppose to make sure that everyone is safe and happy whenever possible.  That I can make things better for everybody, if I just try hard enough.  This belief delights most of the narcissists I know.  In fact, it is the one trait they praise the most in me – one they often to claim to have themselves.  Yet I usually only hear of their goods deeds from their own mouths.  Whenever I enlist their aid to help me help another, or heaven forbid, need help myself, most of them disappear into the woodwork, unless it is in an area of their expertise.  For instance, my ex-husband thrives on helping other people using his skill with tools and materials, but he needs that audience and that profusion of praise.  Normal household repairs would wait for months before something would come along to motivate him into doing them.

I have been slowly trying to modify the idea of rescuing.  Sometimes people are better off living through their problems, and sometimes you are only making things worse.  And sometimes you only succeed in destroying yourself.

 

People will change their abusive behavior if I give lots of love.

It is possible that had I not be depressed during most of my relationship with my ex-husband, I may had seen the light sooner, but I was completely unaware of the Narcissistic Personality Disorder.  I thought that with some patience and lots of love that everything would straighten itself out sooner or later - and why shouldn't I?  That was what everyone else was telling me I was supposed to do.  “Love conquers all,” they say.  Or to quote the Beetles, “All You Need is Love.”  Karen was my only clue that this might be a flawed approach, but you can’t build a good theory on one data point.  My therapist and counselor hinted that the problem was deeper, but neither one gave me enough information to act upon.

In short, I was playing checkers when I should have been playing chess and I couldn't see the playing pieces clearly enough to know that was the problem.  Sure there were signs, but I had no knowledge to verify my misgivings with.  I cannot brand myself as a defective person because of my ignorance. You shouldn’t either.  To quote my high school chemistry teacher: "Never confuse ignorance with stupidity.  Ignorance can be cured."
            Often coupled with this false belief of love conquering all, is a mutation of the Golden Rule.  “Doing unto others as you would have done unto to you” is still a pretty decent way to live and most people will give you back what you give them in the attitude and emotion department, but there are those who will not pay any attention to what you do.  So to think that the people you love, who ignore you, will treat you with the same amount of respect you treat them with, sooner or later, is asking for heartache.  Do good, but don’t expect it in return.  That way, if it doesn’t come, you will not be hurt.  And if it does, you will be blessed.

 

 

I do not have the right to ask for anything for myself.

In Healing the Shame that Binds You, John Bradshaw points out that shame-based people don't believe they have a right to depend on other people.  I know this is true for me.  I do my best to be there for other people, but I still have problems believing I can expect someone to do something for me.  I have a few friends who I can depend on without feeling major amounts of guilt, but we have been there for each other for a good amount of time.

I sometimes still find myself hooking up with other shame-based people, but I'm working harder on staying with just those who are trying to overcome their problems, too.  It's hard, because I tend to ignore some of the warning signs, and screwed up people can be interesting.  But sooner or later, the interesting parts go stale and the angry outbursts without apology, the verbal abuse and other shameless behaviors would become the norm.

I am also bad about not taking care of my own needs.  I often feel that other people need more help than I do and I don’t want to be a burden or nuisance to someone else.  My own needs can wait, I often tell myself. 

Can you see the tie in with being perfect and rescuing others?  What narcissist would not like being around someone who put everyone else’s needs first?  After all, they need someone to take care of those needs they neglect in themselves – those pesky ones that show that they are human just like the rest of us – in addition for their need of attention. 

Sounds like the narcissist and the narcissistic enabler may be only a few steps away from each other, doesn’t it?  Some people have even suggested that a narcissistic enabler is actually an inverted narcissist.  I don’t agree.  Not because I don’t want to see myself that way, but because of what I have observed.  I've seen my mother cater occasionally to other narcissists.  It's almost sad in some ways and it's always a love-hate relationship.  And it never lasts for long.  My father, though definitely codependent, avoids the limelight in many respects.  I have never seen him accept praise that was not honestly earned, nor engage in false modesty, and he has a very accurate view of his own abilities.  One of the other narcissists I have known in my life was actually married to someone with another personality disorder entirely.

Still, being raised by a Narcissist Personality disorder does increase one’s chances of being one and even if you don’t become one, you still have some of the same rules about perfection and weakness drilled into you.  We are two sides of the same coin, when all is said and done.  We must be perfect and strong.  We don’t always manifest it in the same way.

I, personally, am not used to complaining about something without feeling guilty. To me, many of the complaints I make about my own circumstances seem like a weakness.   It was hard to give myself permission to complain more and I still worry a great deal about crossing over to the self-pity side of things.

An even more dangerous sub-belief of this is not having the right to defending myself from abuse.  That I am not worthy of protection.  One of my sisters even told me once that I don't feel I have a right to take care of myself.  Probably my greatest battle within myself is convincing me that I am not being selfish when I take care of my own needs.

 

So, those are the beliefs from my childhood, which I had internalized and now recognized as being detrimental to my wellbeing.  There are other beliefs my mother likes to push, which I have never accepted:

 

That she is a wise and holy person to be revered.

According to my mother, she is blessed with the gift of prophesy straight from God, which makes you wonder why she bothers to play with other foreseeing mediums, like horoscopes and palming reading.  After all, if you getting it straight from the source, why seek out other avenues?  Does she believe God may mislead her or is holding back?

 

 

That everyone should see immediately how special she is.

She gripes constantly about the fact that no one appreciates how much church work she did with her stepmother when she was a teenager or how they won’t ask her to use her wonderful talents.  I’ve tried to point out that none of these people knew her or her stepmother when she was a teenager and when she is asked to help out with things, she will usually refuse.  How can anyone possibly know what she is capable of if she won’t let them see?

 

 

That she can outwit the rest of the universe.

            She won’t enter the office of a therapist to save her life, but my mother will read anything that claims to give you insight into other people and try to use it to manipulate them.  As mentioned already, she also read palms and other things.  The only thing she will not touch is Tarot cards, but I know two other narcissists who are obsessed with Tarot cards.  Give my mother a thumbnail sketch of anyone and she will insist that she knows what they are really like behind whatever façade they put up.  She is constantly trying to outmaneuver people and events.

 

 

You can't count on your friends, but your family will always be there for you.

Ironically, the families I know who are really there for each other rarely say this, and if they do they leave out the first half about not trusting friends. Instead, they encourage their children to make friends with people who can be trusted.

 

Beliefs can change and here are some of mine that have changed over the years in their current forms:

·        I no longer believe that all people who commit suicide are quitters who are aware of what they are doing.

·        I no longer believe that I am responsible for my siblings' eternal souls.

·        It is not necessary for me to explain my motives.

·        Forgetting does not mean you have actually forgiven someone. To forgive, you must face what was actually done to you and then make peace with it. Otherwise, you are only burying it and burying something just preserves it.

·        Hiding one's emotion is not a sign of strength - it is often a sign of fear.

·        Very few people admire constant sacrificing. Most people will either take advantage of it or try to get you to care of yourself.

·        Letting someone else help you can sometimes be the greatest gift you can give them.

·        Sometimes you need to let others make mistakes so they can learn from them.

 

 

So, have my days as a Rainy Day Person ended?  I hope so.  It’s very demoralizing to only be considered a person when times are rough.  I need to be someone even when then sun is shining and no one needs me.  Constant rescuing is for super heroes.  I want a real life and since you are reading this, I am going to assume that you do too.