The Orphan Monologues

With my father being a spiteful SOB, and my mom emotionally unavailable, I guess this is vaguely what it feels like to be orphaned. It's true that I had them in my life up til now, but should someone like me have their parents suddenly die, maybe this is what it would be like.

It's been 6 months since my brother's discovery about my father's acitivities. And 6 months later, I still haven't been able to talk to my mom about my feelings. She's leaned on me a whole heck of a lot, but I can't reciprocate. And I keep trying to tell her to read this blog, as my way of speaking to her about my feelings, but she won't. She's too busy with chemistry, and then with biology. She keeps promising to read it, but it's been here for over a month now, and that hasn't happened.

Her counselor actually advised her not to read it. Fantastic for me, because I am just trapped in this useless outlet. This isn't some game for me- some hobby or fun. I created this so that I could reach out to the important people in my life the only way I know how. Frickin notes.

I guess I'll be 40 years old, writing notes to my husband expressing my feelings. I think the combination of technology and growing up under the oppression of the Plymouth Brethren, I've been ruined from self-expression through speech. I can text, write a facebook message, email, AIM message, or even hand someone a handwritten note with no problems. The minute I open my mouth, I'm frozen.

Yeah I'm working on this with my counselor. I can actually speak to her, though not without difficulty. My earlier psychiatrists I couldn't talk to. There was a lot of me twisting my hands, fidding my thumbs, and other nervous ticks in therapy sessions in high school. There was not a lot of me talking, though. Emotions just make me really uneasy and stressed out. It is exhausting to speak from the heart. Now, I can't get through a session without crying. But it's only when I open the floodgates am I able to speak about my emotions, so she doesn't seem to mind me using up all her tissues.

But because my mom is avoiding this site, it is sending me a pretty powerful message, one that is merely echoing what I was told in the Plymouth Brethren: I'm not that important. She can dump on me all she likes with her emotions and burdens, but she isn't letting me get a word in edgewise. It feels really one-sided, and I feel pretty emotionally abandoned by her.

I know she's trying to take care of herself through this time, and I know that she is currently motherless, but I really need my mom. And going through the past 6 months without her has been really hard. I've lost both of my parents in one shot. Sure, one of them was crappy. But I really miss the other.

Miksed Signls: Ur doin it rite!

Things keep coming out of my counseling sessions that I never even thought about. Or, haven't in so many years that I've forgotten, anyway. It's almost like post-traumatic stress disorder, or something- getting worked up over wrongs that have been long buried. And yet they affect me still today, so now we dig them up.

When I was quite young, I was nicknamed by my family 'water-works' because I cried a lot. It was a derogatory name, certainly not one borne of love. So, whenever I cried, I was not taken seriously. I can recall my mom saying to me once, "You're just looking for a reason to cry. You're in a bad mood and you just want to cry." I was trying to say something to her that was upsetting me, and this was her response.

The lovely Plymouth Brethren always managed to cast down the women in their assemblies. Man good, woman bad. Anything womanly is also bad. Like emotions. Tears show weakness, they show emotion, which is irrational. Only logic is good, and logic is free of tears and emotions. In order to be taken seriously when you have a problem, you cannot cry, and you cannot show emotions.

And so now, here I am, typing a blog which is meant to portray my inner soul and emotions. Instead of confiding to the people I love, I hide here, where a keyboard can be my bridge between logic and emotions. I can logically type, filling this blank page, where tears cannot be pictured.

Because I was 'water-works,' the emotional, illogical little girl, I grew up to be me- a logical, unemotional grownup. I can't confide in people I love. I can't reach out to them for help when I'm dealing with emotional issues. I want to be taken seriously. I want to be seen as a grown up who can take care of herself. So, now my mother unloads her burden of pain unto me, and I have no one to unload unto. I've been isolated on me-island. I was told that my emotions and tears weren't important, and now I still believe it.

It's interesting to see how something so small as a light tease, like calling a little girl 'water-works' can affect her deeply. I cried a lot, therefore my tears became irrelevant. They were a common sight, so they ceased to bring interest. I still felt the sadness, hurt, or whatever to bring the tears, but it was moot. No one listened.

And what's crazy is that later, when I was entering 'adulthood,' my mom went out of her mind trying to make me open up to her. I can recall her physically shaking me, "What's wrong with you? Why are you sad? Tell me! TELL ME!" And I wouldn't tell her. I couldn't confide in her. I didn't believe that she really wanted to know, because I was shown before that they didn't want to know. My problems were childish, girly, and unimportant.

Even now, the past 6 months we've known about my father's scandals, and I haven't been able to open up to her the pain I'm feeling. She's asked me a couple times, but I haven't said anything. I gave her the link to this blog, but she hasn't come. She's forgotten, wrapped up in the busyness and craziness in her own life, claiming that her pain is worse than mine. Is it worse? I don't know, maybe. It's different than mine, so how can it be better or worse?

Welcome to me-island. Population: 1

An email I hacked.

Okay, this was definitely wrong of me. But I couldn't help it. I hacked into my dad's email account and pulled this out. Definitely wrong. I'll say it again: I shouldn't have. But, I did. It's done. I guess I just feel like he lost his right to privacy when he violated our trust.

An email to a married woman in the Plymouth Brethren, from my dad. She asked for Christian advice when raising children, how to instill in them the love for Christ. I believe it was a mass email to many people. Here is my dad's response.

"I am sorry I do not know you personally. You have gotten some good response from others here. Also do not ever forget children learn far, far more by watching us than in any other way. And they are watching us and learning from us in great detail every day. Our habits, words, actions, attitudes, emotions, etc,etc,etc.... They are all on display for them every day. Therefore....

For me to live (is) Christ!!!"

WHAT THE HECK??? Our habits/actions: sexual addiction. Our words/attitudes: Me, me, me, me, me. Our emotions: What emotions?

Again, WHAT THE HECK??? Who is he to say these things? Should I be a narcissistic sex addict, if this was my example?

Again, it was wrong of me to snoop. And I only got stress and fury out of it. But, now I have to decide: should I intervene in this? Should I email this lady and allow her the knowledge of what an abysmal father this man was?

I know what he's doing. He's trying to make ties to as many Plymouth Brethren as he can before the Iowa conference. He wants to go, make an entrance, be surrounded by adoring church members, and find a Plymouth Brethren wife. A replacement for my mom. One woman is as good as another. Heck, maybe she'll be prettier AND wait on him hand and foot. Wouldn't that just be swell?

Maybe it's none of my business anymore. He is a grown man and he's allowed to live any way that he wants to. He can always lie more to these people, and say that my mother poisoned me against him, and that I'm a terrible person, blah blah.

Even though I disagree with the majority of the Plymouth Brethren's doctrine, and all the Plymouth Brethren I've ever known were petty, mean people, there have to be some that are nice. There have to be some that are as innocent and naive as my mother was when she was captured by my dad (in marriage). If I send a warning, maybe I could prevent some other poor, sweet lady like my mom from being roped in. That's assuming my email is ever read by the lady. She could see my email address and decide it's SPAM. She could read the email and decide it's a joke. She could email my father and eat up his lies.

I will probably wait, talk to my psychiatrist about it, and maybe send it later. It's not like I'm in a rush. I don't think the Iowa conference is for a while yet.

He is such a terrible liar. He wants to be seen as this Christian, godly family man. But it's all fallen apart. He's unzippered his coat and revealed his clothing beneath it. He can't just zip it back up and we'll forget that he's wearing a neon-glowing tube top. His character was so shocking and utterly the opposite of everything he's portrayed. But the cat's out of the bag. Maybe he will go back to these people and show off his self-image some more. Should I let him? I'm not his mommy. I'm not the honesty police.

I'm just a hurt, infuriated daughter.

What would you say, if you could?

My dad is just as stubborn as always. When I first confronted him, of course he apologized and cried (tears purely out of self-pity). This happened a few weeks ago, and at the time, I wasn't really ready.

But now, if I had another chance to speak to him, which I could easily get, what would I even say to him? He knows I'm hurt, I already expressed that to him. I suppose I would call him out on his choice of church again.

The crazy thing is, when we tried to get him to come to our Presbyterian church, we used Biblical logic. We showed him the passages in the Bible that supported our particular dogma, and passages that refuted his church's. Whenever he was backed into a corner, of course he got defensive. And he would just say, "Well, I have to study that passage some more. I'll get back to you." He never got back to us. We're still waiting for a response to Romans 8 from 12 months ago.

He just CAN'T be wrong. And he's so sure that he's right, he won't even bother proving it to himself or us. It's not worth his time investigating, because there isn't a chance in the world that he's wrong. It'd be a waste of time for him to actually argue his case.

And that leaves me with this question: what would I say to him? Logic doesn't work. He isn't empathetic to my emotions. If logic and emotional pleas are beyond him, then what is left? An act of God, I suppose. God could change my father, but will he? I can't assume that He will. Or perhaps my dad's own will. But that looks grim, because if he's always right, then he won't second guess himself long enough to change his mind. Especially if that means he was wrong at some point. I don't know how he'd be able to admit he was wrong. That seems beyond his capabilities.

What would you say to a narcissist, to explain to them all they have done and still do to hurt you? I suppose as long as you are talking about them, and the way they have hurt you, it doesn't matter what you say. They'll love the attention, but hate the accusations. They'd feel conflicted over whether they want the attention to stop or the attacking to continue. I guess they'd redirect it to myself, and how horrible I am. That's what he does.

What's really sick is this odd relationship he has with "Smith," his friend who lives too far from a Plymouth Bretheren church to regularly attend on Sunday mornings. Because we use comcast email, we are able to read the emails he sends. It's two-way, of course, but we don't have anything to hide.

Anyway, in an email that we... um... *liberated* it became increasingly clear how far gone both of these men are. It's like, "Smith" is another narcissist, and they are feeding each other's narcissistic needs. My mom and I sort of suspected a homosexual relationship forming, which would certainly be another nail in the coffin of my parents' marriage, but now I am suspecting a duel narcissistic feeding session.

It was almost as if my dad was writing himself back and forth in the email. They agreed on everything, praised each other and themselves for being in the right, and for being such godly Christian men, and you could practically hear them high-fiving through the computer screen. It was disgusting. I believe hipsters use the word "Bromance" to describe the closeness between two straight men. However, this is beyond that. It's like they were one person, divided into two. I guess this brings me back to the image of Voldemort's torn pieces of soul. Here are two matching pieces.

And this only brings more worry and fury into our lives. I guess that's what we get for snooping. I mean, honestly, what were the chances of reading something positive?

But what are the chances that my dad will change if he has the support of another narcissist, telling him that "of course you are right, brother" and "I will pray for your family to let go of their sinful resentment" and all of this. How is he going to realize how wrong his thought process is if someone is feeding it? Is it completely hopeless?

Probably. I guess it's impossible to know the future, but the signs are pretty darn clear.

How quickly some people bounce back!

And how slowly the rest of us do.

My biological father, as it happens, has already forgiven himself for cheating on my mom and family for the past 6 years. He's over it.

He's decided that if we aren't over it, then we are being unscriptural, for not forgiving him. It's infuriating that he has managed to regain 100% of his arrogance, self-righteousness, and sanctimoniousness 6 months after being caught in his filth.

He is a renewed member of that stupid cult, the Plymouth Bretheren, and though they know of his past misdeeds, they are not holding him accountable at all. He was breaking bread at his first or second meeting. He recently gave a sermon (all the men take turns).

He is absolutely convinced that he is correct in his choice of congregations, and nothing I, my mom, or my brother can say will change his mind. He is so far gone, on this path of feeding his narcissism.

His friend, "Smith," is another member of the cult, but he lives far away from a meeting. Will he attend another church, which is reachable on a Sunday morning? Oh no, because they have deceived themselves with the idolatry of the church.

Yeah, okay. Let's talk deception.
1) Cheating on your wife for 6 years with more women than you can accurately recall.
2) Having a secret email account to use for porn, chat rooms, arranging meetings with women.
3) Spending a week at a time with a woman on your work company's dime.
Hmm... and now for self-deception?
You still believe that your wife and family will return to that stupid cult.
And how about the fact that you claim you don't need a counselor, accountability group (like a sex-addicts annoymous group), books, or anything else. You'll read the Bible and ignore the rest. Fair enough that the Bible is stronger than any of the above list, but why wouldn't you want to do EVERYTHING possible to make sure that you are recovered? If your relationship with your family was at stake, wouldn't you do anything to get them back?

Apparently, not.

Apparently, his opinion is the only one that matters, and if we disagree, then we are just wrong. There isn't a chance in the world that he is wrong. He knows he's right.
His blind errancy boils my blood.

I honestly do not believe that he cares at all for me. Where's the evidence to the contrary?
He bought me a flute. We aren't rich, so this was a financial burden. But, there's certainly a difference between buying something and, oh I don't know, taking 10 minutes to call your daughter at school because you haven't seen her in a few weeks. Or, even writing me an email, seeing as you're on the computer more than you do anything else.

My mom and his counselor believe that he cares for me. But the truth is he always cared most about himself. Honestly, I still believe that he ONLY cared for himself.

Which leads me to my biggest fear: becoming him.
If his father was able to pass on the narcissist lifestyle, who's to say I'm not one? How do you know? If you spend enough time worrying about it and thinking about it, isn't that narcissist to dwell on yourself? I guess the only answer is to NOT think about it, and fixate on other people. But if that worry is still nagging in the back of your mind...

And of course, growing up, all I've ever heard is how I'm like my dad. I have his sense of humor (which I disagree with), I like the same TV shows as him (well, that's true. House is a good show), I am naive like him, etc, etc. I always hated hearing that. But now, it hurts extra. If I play a video game, then I'm like him- stuck on the computer. But I spend SO many hours working for my double major in college. I'm taking 18 credits, and I have a job. I am by no means lazy. And now when someone in my family suggests I am like my father, it is like a knife through my heart.

I would never betray them the way he has. I would never devalue their love for me, or my love for them. To me, suggesting I am like him is like rejecting my humanity. I may as well be dead if I am like him, for I will only bring pain to my loved ones.

We've nicknamed my father "Voldemort" in our house. My mom has watched some of the Harry Potter movies with me, and my brother at least knows the media hype about the movies, so they both certainly know that he is the villain in Harry Potter. But only I've read the books and know just how perfectly this metaphor fits.

***Spoiler alert- if you haven't read the 7th book and you care about Harry Potter, don't read the following.
In the 7th book, Harry dies. Before he is admitted into the afterlife, Harry looks about himself and sees odd, sickly, shapeless creatures. These are the pieces of Voldemort's soul. To me, my father is like one of those pieces. He's not even a whole person. He is torn, repulsive, sickly, and evil. I want nothing to do with him. He is utterly revolting and deformed, mutilated. It's like watching one of those horror movies that make you want to vomit because you have never been exposed to something so foul.

To suggest that I am like him is possibly most hurtful thing you could do to me right now.

Oh, the walls we build.

I have always loved my mother very much. How could I not? She simply adored me. I could pick my nose and she'd take a picture and say it was adorable. (Okay, maybe not really).

However, there's always been the mother-daughter barrier between us. She has always been my mother, and therefore, there are certain things she cannot tell me. It just wouldn't be appropriate to confide some things in your daughter. I've always sensed the distance, and was never able to completely confide in her, either. I guess it's hard to trust someone who doesn't always trust you. How am I supposed to tell her everything if she won't tell me everything? It's a bit of a double-standard.

A year ago yesterday, her mother passed. We all miss her very much, but no one as much as my mom. You can't bring up her mother in conversation without her tearing up. But, it's only been a year, so I suppose this isn't entirely unreasonable. When my mom goes, I imagine I'll have the same heartache.

My grandmother was my mom's confidante. Now, with the divorce between my parents pending, my mom is in great need of someone to talk to. My mom's sister is angry with my dad and isn't a fair ear. She just stresses my mom out. My mom's brother is... well, a man. It's sometimes better to talk to a female. We joined a church a year ago, and my mom talks to the women who went through divorces, but I guess she still needs someone she can talk to on a more regular basis.

Somewhere between my grandmother's death and my parent's separation, I became the mother figure for my mom. She asks for my advice on what to do or say to my dad. I try to be as honest and fair as I can, because I know she's going through a really rough time, and she needs me.

But now, as the mother figure, I still don't feel as though I can always say everything I feel and think and experience to my mom. Now, she's the daughter, and I need to shelter her, just as she sheltered me. I need to be a rock so she can always feel safe talking and leaning on me. If she sees just how much I'm hurting, too, then she'll take on some of that pain, and she's already dealing with so much.

She always says she wants me to confide in her, too. I'm not sure I know how. She can read this blog, and somehow I'm going to manage to bear my soul, but I have such difficulty actually articulating words to people to convey my deep thoughts and feelings. I don't know how to completely trust people anymore. I've lost faith in my fellow species. It's something I'm working on in therapy, but I still feel at a loss when confronted face-to-face with people.

Writing is so much easier, staring at a blank canvas computer screen. I can write anything and click "publish post" and maybe later my mom will read the blog. Then she'll want to talk about it, and I'll freeze up again.

I confronted my dad a few weeks ago, at the push of my mom. She thought it would be therapeutic for me to tell him how he's hurt me. Instead, I find myself upset at the memory of the encounter. I hated showing him my soul. I feel like it was private, that he didn't even have the right to see my pain. I actually feel a twinge of resentment for my mom for making me do this.

I really hope I can take down some of the walls I've built up around myself. But right now, I just don't know how.

How does a Narcissist immediately effect one's life?

There are always little things that cause humiliation or frustration. These are easier to tolerate, even if it can sometimes feel unbearable. Sometimes there are big things that really hurt your heart, too.

Memory 1)
Brother has brought home his serious girlfriend from college. We, as a family, are all going out to eat. We get dressed fairly nicely, to make a decent impression on the girl, and of course we'll be wonderful hosts to show her what a nice family we are. What does Dad wear? His beige outfit. A faded beige T-shirt and ill-matching beige shorts that create the illusion of homelessness. We plead for him to change, but he knows best, of course, and he wears the stupid beige outfit. My mom later threw it in the trash.

Memory 2)
We're at my brother's college graduation. There are some thousands of people in the auditorium (it's a small school). Because it's a Christian school, we are going to sing hymns. Guess who is determined to be the loudest singer, leading the "choir" that is made up of parents and loved ones? Oh yeah, my dad. He sings so loudly that his voice cracks. He is scream-singing. My mom plugs her ear with her finger because she is getting a headache. I, as a music major in college, later explain to him that he is damaging his voice, and besides, the idea of a choir is to "blend" not to "lead." But, he says that I'm picking on him and ruining his fun. Never mind that it hurt my mom's ears and probably the ears of the poor soul on the other side of him. Never mind that if my brother knew he'd be embarassed. He just wants his fun. No one matters, and no one is right if they disagree with him.

Memory 3) - Mom don't read, it's about Sparky
Early one morning, my mom let the dogs out to pee. We have a leash system in place so that the dogs have rein over about 2/3 of the yard. But, one must actually step outside in order to hook the dogs up to the leashes. My father gets home, he knows that this is our system. He lets Sparky out off the leash. Sparky escapes and is hit by a car. He's dead when my mom finds him. He just couldn't be bothered to take a step outside to reach the leash and attach it to Sparky's collar. He was too busy on the computer, chatting to women (which we didn't know at the time).

Memory 4)
My entire high school life.
My father has been laid off from his computer job. He's job searching, and eventually gets hired as a truck driver. During this time, we go backwards on our mortgage. Mom's working two part-time jobs to make ends meet. But, she also has to do all the housework and cooking because that's "her job." My dad sits on his butt in front of the computer while unemployed or on break from truck driving. My mom slowly begins to crack from the stress and has to quit one of the jobs, because despite her begging for help, he simply will not help with housework. It's not fun.

Memory 5)
My brother tells my father that the relationship the two of them have is a joke. They have no relationship. He wants my father to call him while he's at school so the two can have an actual relationship. My dad is hurt by this statement, but doesn't call. He can't be bothered. He's too busy. Doing... what? Oh yeah, having sex with women, calling them on the phone, and ignoring his children.

Memory 6)
Sometime before the truth of my father's sexual addiction came out, maybe a year or two ago, I begin to detatch myself from my father. I, too, realize that the relationship between my father and myself is non-existant. I slowly begin to lose respect, then liking, and then love, for my father. To me, he is basically a paycheck so my mom doesn't go hungry. I am nice to him because he is there. If he isn't willing to call my brother after my brother asks him to, then what are the chances that he'd do the same for me? I don't even bother to say anything to my dad, even when he asked if our relationship was a joke. He claimed that he didn't want his children to feel that way, but I lied and said we did- to see if he'd live up to that claim and make attempts at knowing my brother. He didn't. So why would he for me? What am I to him except a daughter- even less important than a son. And apparently, the son wasn't even worth a phonecall. I couldn't expect more.

Is it becoming obvious that the neglect and self-centeredness of a parent can cause damage?