He Loved Me, He Loved Me Not...

Do you like my new merkaba pendulum?  I got it at the gem and mineral show.  It was the last one, and I was walking by just as the guy was finishing making the price tag for it.  I told him it was meant to be mine, and in fact, it was.  I was looking at these exact pendulums online, and I just couldn't decide between amethyst, rose quartz, or citrine.  I must have called it out into reality...love when that happens.  :)

Anyway, I apologize for the obsessive fixation over the past few days about lamenting the loss of what I believed to be the perfect love and picking myself apart to determine the cause of my repeated failures.  I don't think it's completely out of my system yet, but blogging is helping me process it all.  Especially because now, there is truly no one I talk to.  I mean, yes, on a superficial level...but I have no one with whom I share my dreams and sorrows.  

Very few are the ones permitted to enter those inner chambers, and more often than not are swiftly ejected no sooner than they've been admitted.  In that way, I AM like a narcissist.  I am not comfortable having someone in my life who has seen the inside.  Beneath the surface.  Once the illusion of worthiness has been shattered, and they see how flawed I am, I can no longer be at ease in their presence because I fear that intimate knowledge of my inner self will lead to rejection.  At the same time, though, it gets so lonely having only superficial friendships and acquaintances kept at arms length.  This bubble of protection leaves me untouched and unsatisfied.  Ugh.  Enough obsessing.

So ANYWAY, Tristan had an awesome day yesterday!  This is really, really, REALLY great.  3 days in a row, not just okay, not just good, but AWESOME!  I had no idea that medication could make so much of a difference.  I feel vindicated.  How long has my entire family clung to the belief that the root of everything wrong with Tristan is bad parenting on my part?  I begged Rachel to put him in counseling like they promised once he went to live there.  She haughtily sent some reply that said something to the effect of, "He doesn't need counseling because he only had problems since you're bad at parenting, and now that he lives with us and we are perfect at this (and at everything) there will be no need for counseling."  It wasn't that dramatic, but honestly, that's pretty much what she said.  My mother used to sing that song, too.  I got so sick of family gatherings where I'd walk in on a whispered gossip session between Rachel, my mom, and my sister -- discussing how bad I suck at parenting.

Really!  I'm not THAT bad!  I may be too permissive, but I LOVE my children, and I'd do anything for them!  It seems, though, that no matter what I do for the sake of my children, my family always has a reason to bitch and to say it's not good enough.  I remember when Rachel tried telling me I didn't do anything for Tristan, and I pointed out that I had been to every single class party and every field trip that year.  She THEN criticized me because I "could have at least made cookies".  When I said that I had no idea there was an expectation for me to bring cookies, she replied like the superior bitch that she is "Well.  We can't tell you how to be a mother."  Yes, mostly because you yourself have no fucking clue how to be one either.  Bitch.

Sorry.  I'm purging a lot of negativity right now and just letting it flow out, because I intend to reset this weekend on the new moon and move forward, leaving all this crap behind me.  But back to my original point, I must admit that I DO take a certain pleasure in proving everyone wrong.  I KNOW that when they sent Tristan to live with me again, they were eagerly anticipating a train wreck.  Nothing pleased them more than the idea of watching me fail.  They relished the thought of me falling flat on my face while they feigned concern.  Like when I used to call him when he lived at their house, and of course he's such a busy kid that he never wanted to slow down to talk on the phone.  I'd get a phony-ass giggle from her and a sound of embarrassment and fake concern.  "Gee, I don't know WHY he doesn't want to talk to you!"

I email his teacher every day to see how Tristan is doing, and this morning when I got the email about yesterday that said, "HE DID AWESOME!!!", I noticed that it was also sent to Rachel.  Hahahaha, that nosy bitch, I'm sure SHE also checks in with his teachers only to reassure her inflated ego that Tristan is doing horribly and it is all because of me.  I noticed that whenever Tristan would have a bad day, almost as if my mother could sense it, I'd get a message from her on Facebook with total transparent fake concern that would say, "Hey!  How's Tristan doing in school?  I miss him!"  Acting like she didn't know, when I'm sure she already did.  Just loving the idea of forcing me to tell her he had a bad day.  Even now, though, when I tell her he's having great days since starting the medication, she still can't be happy for me.  She still has to find a way to dig at me, one last time.  Telling me that learning better parenting skills is the best thing I can do for him.  Would you stop harping on that shit, mom?  And WHY are you so hung up on convincing me, yourself, everyone that I'm such a bad mother?  Wouldn't you think that would reflect badly on you?  After all, where did I LEARN my parenting skills?

Oh, wait.  That's just it.  It's because I was determined to not make the same mistakes my parents did, not to dominate and control, and this different approach to parenting in her mind MUST fail because if I was successful, it might indicate that HER way was wrong.  She is happy about my failure because it proves that she made no mistakes.  She must cling tight to the idea that her way is the only right way.  I kind of feel sorry for her.

I'm sure that all of this is very boring to anyone who may be reading it, but I've discovered so much about myself throughout this process.  Oh!  So, the title.  I was using my pendulum in my car and asked it, "Did Joth ever love me?" and it answered yes.  "Did he love me the way I loved him?"  Yes.  But then, "Will he always love me?"  No.  "Will I always love him?"  Yes.  Well this one is clearly broken.  I think it needs to be taken in for repair.  

I will leave you with one more thing I encountered during my research, and then moving forward, no more looking backwards and dwelling on my childhood, my past, my heartbreak, or my failures.  Both eyes ahead.  

Family Dynamics

The Narcissistic Family System

In this concept, there are three roles, the narcissist, who acts as the 'definer of reality' or 'font of truth', the golden child, and the black sheep. The narcissist is the self-appointed sole authority on what is 'right' and 'good.' The golden child can do no wrong, the black sheep can do no right. Identical actions are treated differently depending on which child is doing it. The black sheep can specialize in either 'misbehavior' or 'failure and inadequacy' but his or her function is the same. In a nutshell, the idealized self-image of the narcissist is projected onto the golden child, and the disowned shame and faults are projected onto the black sheep. This replicates an internal split in the narcissist.

Black sheep, if not driven crazy, tend to go on to become very empathetic, while golden children, without necessarily going on to be narcissists themselves, tend to struggle with empathy. Sometimes the black sheep is a child and the 'golden child' is a grandchild, or vice versa. Narcissists often will try to 'take over' a nephew or niece or grandchild or grand-nephew or -niece to create this system. This can play out in a work-group of course. 

I think it's clear which one is the black sheep.