To sleep perchance to dream…or smoke my lungs out because I probably wont’ die in my sleep

February 16th, 2010by janedoesez

So much anxiety and stress and lack of control over my feelings…to live in this mind is torturous…I can’t get myself to kill myself though. I don’t want to use a gun, or jump off a bridge, or jump in front of a train or bus.  Too violent.  I don’t want to slit my wrists, take pills or drown myself.  I am afraid I will simply end up maimed or an invalid, which would make life even harder.  I just want to die in my sleep.

I used to have a high paying job, but had to quit because I couldn’t stand the stress, partly because I was working 13-15 hour days for 3 years mainly because I couldn’t say no and I defined myself by the amount of responsibility I had. The more responsibility the better and it all came to a screeching halt when I imploded from the stress.

I couldn’t say no because my abuser conditioned me to please her and be responsible for her. My mother has severe Narcissistic Personality Disorder (I will refer to as NPD or N Mother or NM).

My mother did everything & more described in the link above: Parentification, Infantalization, Triangulation.   In addition, her neglect caused me to be left unguarded and was left to be molested by a teenage boy when I was 6 yrs old. He did so on more than one occasion. One of my father’s friends also used to touch me when we were left alone in a room. I was not even 10 years old. My ex-stepfather also used to touch me in my room when he would “tuck” me in when I was in junior high and high school. My mother was in the next bedroom.

I blocked all these events from my mind. I thought I was okay. I thought I was unaffected. In the meanwhile, I treated my friends like crap, betrayed & hurt them, started doing drugs from high school through my early 20’s, allowed boyfriends to treat me like crap, took them back even though they cheated on me over and over, had affairs with 2 married men, hated all the jobs I’ve ever had, always hated people…

For 32 years I thought all this was my fault. I thought there was something utterly wrong with me. After a therapist pointed out at 32 years old that my mother might have NPD, it all clicked. The truth allowed the disconnected pieces to fall into place.

Now I am alone. The pathology of NPD, the passive aggressiveness, and the denial in my family prevents me from trusting any of them.  I feel the world and the people in it are just as unaware and cruel as my mother because the people I attract are similar to my N mother, so my “friends” and boyfriends/lovers are all abusive, jealous, insecure, power hungry, retaliative people who want nothing more than to see me fail.  I not only feel utterly alone with no one to trust, but also unprotected, like an open wound ready for the predators to feed on me, little by little, watching me suffer as enjoyment while nourishing themselves with my flesh.

I am struggling to break free from the shame, anger, hurt, frustration, loneliness and the emotional trauma and hurdles alone.  I have no friends or partners or family to turn to, not even therapists.  Even the therapists don’t know what they’re doing. I have to manage them in session and am able to identify transference before they do, and handle it better. So I cannot go to them to help me.

I crawl under my skin at the thought that my mother (and other abusers) is living her life guilt and remorse free because she thinks she didn’t do anything wrong.  I think the world is utterly fucked up because of this.  Why should I stay alive then? Why should I work so hard to overcome these hurdles?

I am alone and vulnerable and weaker by the second and with each attack to come.  I am damaged.  I am not sure I can recover.  I am down and alone and people are kicking me while I am down.  There is no one to help me.  Why should I keep going? The struggles will never end.  They will always be there.  What kind of peaceful life do I expect to live when I feel everyone is out for themselves?

The few and far between moments of respite from misery? The possibility of love? Who will love me when I dont’ love myself? Who will want to be with me when I am alone, no friends, no family, no job, no passion for life?

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