This video was made on May 27th, 2017.
I feel like I am stuck in a freeze state sometimes. That is my main response to trauma. I tend to freeze and dissociate by distracting myself or zoning out. When I’m feeling especially triggered I tend to be drawn to my bed and want to lay down and stay there. I am wondering if this is an indication of how early in my childhood the initial trauma occurred. I’d love to know your thoughts.
I will follow this video up with research on this topic and will post a further video on my findings.
I am not a mental health professional nor am I an academic expert on Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) or complex post traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD). I am here to share my story, both past and present, as I continue on a journey of awakening and recovery from CPTSD.
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In Canada, the country that I live in, the use of physical force on children is an exception to the Criminal Code of Canada.
It is illegal to hit someone else, but if you are their parent or legal guardian you are allowed to hit your kids from ages 2 to a teenager. As long as you are doing it to discipline them, or correct their behaviour, they are fair game with the following exceptions.
The law in Canada allows for minor corrective force or the mildest forms of assault, but a parent or legal guardian can not:
– use force on a child under 2 years old or on a teenager,
– use force that causes harm or might cause bodily harm,
– use force because they are angry, frustrated, have lost their temper or because they have an “abusive personality”,
– hit a child on the head,
– do anything degrading, inhumane or harmful (this might include taking clothes off or spanking in public), or
– use force on children who have disabilities which make it hard for them to learn.
Growing up, my narcissistic mother physically assaulted me and my siblings in the name of discipline. She said it was discipline, but really she had psychotic breaks with reality like a deranged narcissistic sociopath.
Nobody was allowed to express their full range of emotions, but her. Not even dad. If you did, all hell broke loose.
I’ve been hit with wooden spoons, hangers, shoes, hair brushes, and whatever else she could get her hands on. I think she’s even thrown books at me.
I’ve been slapped in the face by her on more occasions than I can recall. I think she really liked that one. The face slapping. It was her favourite. Her mom was a face slapper. I now know that it was illegal for her to do that. In fact, every act of “discipline” on her part was always because she lost her shit and she had to teach us her rules. All illegal.
She also liked washing our mouths out with soap. She did it if we swore. She always made sure to push it up against out top teeth on the way out too.
I’ve never spanked my children. I have always maintained that it is not a good way to discipline a child, and I have always been against it. It never made sense to me to try and corrects a child’s behaviour by hurting them. The biggest irony to me is hitting a child to teach them not to hit others.
Thankfully, there is increasingly more scientific research that shows that physical punishment of any kind is harmful to children.
Perhaps someday, with this and the urging by the United Nations Committee on the Rights of the Child to stop allowing parents and guardians to use physical force on children for discipline the law will change.
The way I see it, it is the biggest betrayal I can think of, having the person that is supposed to keep you safe from all harm, be the one causing it.
As a young child, I was silenced. Anything that could cause my narcissistic mother to feel bad would invoke a psychotic shriek fest and physical assault, which was enough to traumatize anybody into silence.
I became that shy quiet kid that would play quietly with her dolls and try not to make mommy angry. I was that kid that always tried to make mommy and others feel better. She liked that.
That’s how I gained the status of being her “best friend”. That was, until I started being not so silent and pointing things out. She didn’t like that.
I still silence myself though. I silence myself so others will love me. I feel if I express my “negative” emotions, or express my distaste in their actions, that they will not love me anymore and will leave me. My mom taught me that. Every time I get angry and my husband reacts I accuse him of not loving me.
There are the times when I’ve silenced myself one time too many. When I’ve stuffed my insides to capacity and everything comes bursting out like Jack being released from the box.
Those times are bad. Sometimes, I feel as though I am watching myself from out of body, but I can’t stop myself. I’m triggered, and a part of me knows it, but I’m unable to stop it. I know I sound just like her, yet I can’t stop. I need to stop. I hate that I act like her at those times. It’s fucking disturbing.
I suppose being aware is a step in the right direction, but ffs. I just want to feel better. I want to feel like I’m actually getting somewhere. I’ve been doing so well, then I’m triggered and it feels like I take a huge step back.
I’ve been silent on my YouTube channel and here for some time now. I ordered some books that deal with growing up with a narcissistic mother and have gotten to the part where I need to journal and process things. I put the books down and haven’t picked them back up. I’ve been dissociating and avoiding. My bad.
Time to break the silence.
Growing up, we were close, both in age, and emotionally. We have always been mistaken as twins, and still to this day somebody will call one of us by the other’s name.
I noticed things changing when she became a teenager and was drinking a lot and getting into trouble. Contrary to what you hear about scapegoats being the truth tellers and empaths, and the one with all the good qualities that the narcissist wishes they had, she actually did do bad things. It wasn’t all just lies of the narcissistic mother and the golden child sister.
When I was 14 she took me to a party where she got drunk and proceeded to make out with guys all over the place. I had a couple of beers, felt sick, went outside to puke and some older boy/man tried to grab me and kiss me. She was supposed to be watching out for me. She laughed when I told her what happened.
She has slept with at least 3 of my boyfriends, and was talking on the phone at night to a man I was living with and neither of them told me about it. When I found out, I blamed her. I now know that this man was a narcissist and was probably using both of us. That doesn’t let her off the hook though.
I know for a fact that she slept with my boyfriend when I was 19 years old, because I caught them in bed together. She tries now to say it never happened. Nice try. Liar!
Just because somebody was a scapegoat doesn’t automatically make them a good person. I feel bad for her because I now understand what happened to her, but for her to lie and not take responsibility, to this day, for what she did to me is unacceptable.
I was not a fucked up asshole golden child. I may have thought that I was a golden child, because there was no doubt that she was the scapegoat, but I think the case may be that I was actually a real good ass kisser so that I wouldn’t get abused. I happen to think that was smart on my part at a time when I couldn’t have gone no contact, and would only endure more abuse if I didn’t do that to protect myself.
I will never understand the child that is getting abused and will continue to do things to make life even more difficult for themselves. That was my scapegoat sister.
We were at a family gathering at my grandparents home a few years ago, and I was in the kitchen being a good lost child, doing the dishes, staying in the background. She comes in and starts telling me I’m being an ass kisser. I told her to go and fuck herself.
She has always been loud, obnoxious, and I believe she is a borderline. She will yell, scream, swear, and then say you are living in the past when you try to talk about things with her. It could be that she became a narcissist herself just like my narcissistic mother who was also the scapegoat of her family. It isn’t just the golden children that become narcissists.
I have forgiven her for so many things, so many times, that I don’t know if I can do it anymore. She even tried to make me drown when I was little and didn’t know how to swim yet. My dad saved me. I fucking saw what she did. I fucking know it was on purpose. She has been trying to hurt me and inflict pain on me since I was born, probably because I was born.
Yes, I know she was a child then, but she was still evil towards me. No doubt about it.
When her children were abused, I took them all into my house, her and her children. When she kept going back to the man who abused her children, I tried to talk reason to her. Her kids got taken into care because of it.
I’m sorry if this seems harsh, and if it seems all over the place. I’m just writing as it is coming to me. I am having a lot of old memories coming back now. Things I forgot about since the discard.
This is just part 1. There will be more.
I got a text from my narcissistic mother on Sunday. I haven’t received any communication from her for over a year because I had her blocked from my phone. Somehow, she got through anyway.
I am feeling very triggered by this. I keep catching myself getting pulled into an emotional flashback several times a day. I’m getting better at recognizing the signs before getting pulled down the rabbit hole again.
Anyhow, here is me talking about when my narcissistic mother tried to hoover me 3 days ago.
I am the lost child of my dysfunctional family. This is an introduction to role of the lost child in a dysfunctional family.
Children from dysfunctional families who have been traumatically abused or abandoned develop Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD).
In this vlog I discuss the importance of being able to recognize when you are having an emotional flashback. I discuss a little more about the kinds of abuse I endured as a child. I also discuss dissociation and the fact that I may have dissociated as a small child to block out the times I was abused.