tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post1995461649826825099..comments2024-03-16T14:19:24.563-06:00Comments on Narcissists Suck: A Private Sadistic Moment with My MotherAnna Valerioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537877317873251678noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-67932411882459406232018-04-07T21:22:50.907-06:002018-04-07T21:22:50.907-06:00Thank you all for the honesty. I am so ashamed tha...Thank you all for the honesty. I am so ashamed that I knew my mother and father and sister. So ashamed of my hateful violent ignorant family. I know it wasn’t my fault but I have all these memories and fears, so many. Of her revulsion, contempt and glee at my pain and confusion. It helps me to read your rightful outrage at your own mothers—and passive or violent fathers. I left at 19, thanks to a therapist who called her a prison guard. And another who said they thought my sister was a schizophrenic after showing me a picture she drew of a boy with his head turned one direction and his body 90 degrees the other. Yes, commenting on my body and talking to me like I was a hooker almost got my dad beat up by strangers trying to protect me from him. The were dumbfounded when I told them he was my dad—in the company of my brother in law. Words don’t quite convey the multitudinous and terrible ways a person can torment someone behind closed doors, and humiliate them in public. My mother refused to buy me a bathing suit that fit when I was 14. We went to the basement of a store for women. The top fell open exposing my breasts and the bottom fell off my bottom. But it was always my fault I was so ugly and embarrassed. And they laughed at me. Constant belittling and humiliation. I’m amazed I survived it. <br />I’m in awe that you all survived it, too, and speak the truth. :). Thanks<br />It helps to say even a little. <br />Paulenehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08784109391798874539noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-64006756347748585672017-05-29T18:23:43.610-06:002017-05-29T18:23:43.610-06:00I just imagined punching my sadistic mother in the...I just imagined punching my sadistic mother in the face when she comes to my apartment. I want her to die in the street like a dog.Sébastienhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09135719609844065734noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-90407252898372684262014-08-10T12:42:54.225-06:002014-08-10T12:42:54.225-06:00My MN "Mother" was also a sadistic abuse...My MN "Mother" was also a sadistic abuser well into my adult life even beyond NC until her physical death. (PI's, relentless stalking of me, my family etc.) I also don't remember the transgressions but I sure do remember the abuse and of course, it was always behind closed doors. Bruises fade. Broken bones mend. Burns scar over. It is the psychological/emotional abuse that leaves the longest Legacy.<br />On my last "mandated" (by her, of course) Xmas Pilgrimage to her home (and the last time I was in her physical presence, probably in my mid-20's) I had a ganglion cyst on my hand-no pain, no impairment, just a bit unsightly. MN "Mother" honed in on that cyst like a heat seeking missile and made a huge deal about it repeatedly throughout my visit. As a Medical Professional, she suggested with great excitement/anticipation she would relieve me of this malady by having me place my hand flat on a firm surface-like a table-and she would take a large, hard covered book (the PDR) and "smash the cyst." I declined her offer firmly and consistently much to her obvious disappointment/anger and told her I would have the cyst attended to when I returned to my own home a few hundred miles away. It never occurred to her I would not willingly place myself in a position to be further physically abused by her, her disappointment later giving way to rage: How dare I defy her?! I dared and continued to dare: I NEEDED my hand and it was functioning just fine even with the cyst. <br />As the day approached for me to leave her House of Crazy, her rage giving way to the Silent Treatment for several days, she suddenly announced to me she had made an appointment with a Hand Specialist-a few days AFTER my departure date. Clearly she was scheming for a way to keep me at her residence longer. But this wasn't just any old Hand Specialist, OHHELLNO! This was a Board Certified Plastic Surgeon HAND RECONSTRUCTION Specialist. In other words, the kind of Specialist I might want to see if I just happened to grab the moving bar of a chainsaw on over-drive. I'd be embarrassed to even sit in the Waiting Room with all ten fingers. I declined yet again and reiterated I would take care of it when I got home. As the days dragged on endlessly towards my departure she started to infer perhaps the best medical recourse would be a complete amputation of my offending hand because "those cysts grow roots that will strangle all the muscles and nerves in the hand resulting in impaired blood flow to the hand and..." blaa-blaa-blaa. I was relieved to escape with both hands, all digits and no broken bones in my hand courtesy of MN "Mother's" insistence on having me offer my hand willingly so she could break the bones/"smash the cyst" with her PDR. I could see her practically salivating over that essentially harmless cyst.<br />When I returned to my home I made an appointment with a local GP who took care of the cyst in his office. As I was sitting holding the compression bandage (he had his back to me as he was putting the instruments etc. away) I told him about my MN "Mother's" suggested interventions. He was silent for about 30 sec. and then turned to me and said with a perfectly straight face, "So, is your mother in inpatient or outpatient mental health treatment?"<br />Ahhh, sweet validation! ;)<br />TW Tundra Womanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12262066568878267648noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-30316820258088212842014-07-05T20:16:31.678-06:002014-07-05T20:16:31.678-06:00Wow, I can't imagine why she would be spanking...Wow, I can't imagine why she would be spanking a twelve year old anyway, let alone, someone else's child.<br /><br />Sometimes they do let the mask slip, I know my mother did. One of our last meetings, she was picking on me and she said she liked to do that because I get so upset. I've been mulling that one over for years. That was before I woke up, so. I couldn't even imagine saying that to my daughter. <br /><br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18166248999404159433noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-49557741170715068602013-07-22T08:06:18.659-06:002013-07-22T08:06:18.659-06:00Anna,
Wow. This one incident alone is justifica...Anna, <br /><br />Wow. This one incident alone is justification for cutting off all contact with your mother forever. What an evil sadist. I'm so sorry that you or anyone else has ever been terrorized by someone like that. My NM delighted in emotional sadism, which was bad enough, but luckily she wasn't the physical disciplinarian in the house. Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13652592157978327827noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-48675561580164911082011-04-29T08:21:12.304-06:002011-04-29T08:21:12.304-06:00Hi Anna!
Sorry it took so long to respond! LOL. ...Hi Anna!<br /><br />Sorry it took so long to respond! LOL. <br /><br />Yep, I have. I had many many periods of NC with her, with the latest being 7 months. <br /><br />I was once confronted by a cousin about a blog I wrote on myspace about the abuse. I asked her "Okay, well what in this blog isn't true?" <br /><br />She admitted "well, nothing." What even got the conversation started with her was she said "I think you wrote this blog out of revenge." <br /><br />I said "revenge for what? If nothing happened to me during childhood, as you're claiming, what on EARTH what I want or need revenge for?"<br /><br />After she pretty much admitted that everything I wrote happened she stopped talking to me.<br /><br />Thank you sincerely for having this blog, Anna. You ROCK!<br /><br />CorreyCorrey Lennox Youngbloodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10382411626501291289noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-28387570052217692902010-10-26T14:50:52.114-06:002010-10-26T14:50:52.114-06:00Correy,
Thanks! Glad you like the blog, althoug...Correy, <br /><br />Thanks! Glad you like the blog, although I'm sorry you can relate. I hope you've shucked the abusers out of your life.Anna Valerioushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02537877317873251678noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-31227455904437930872010-10-26T13:29:14.109-06:002010-10-26T13:29:14.109-06:00Yep, I was always the "bad kid" to all o...Yep, I was always the "bad kid" to all of my relatives who then took the opportunity to punish me more for "treating her so badly." <br /><br />I was pretty much the "family pinata." Beat up, picked on, made fun of. The holidays were the worst and I usually locked myself in my room, until they learned to literally break in.<br /><br />I love your blogs. Thank you.Correy Lennox Youngbloodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10382411626501291289noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-38119738449552632172010-10-10T15:37:37.847-06:002010-10-10T15:37:37.847-06:00my dramama passed a week ago. micro cleaning, stri...my dramama passed a week ago. micro cleaning, strip naked beatings with wet leather choking, sexually abusing boyfiends..i never realized how much i hated her until the day she died (i guess i was still afraid)<br />the hardest part...people who get all chocked up and want to feel sorry for her passing. i grow cold and once again become the bad kid to my drop dead gorgeous, charming , witty motherChristinahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16023409381292565408noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-33868956142262449662010-06-06T10:14:18.346-06:002010-06-06T10:14:18.346-06:00I just wandered into this site while surfing the w...I just wandered into this site while surfing the web at night. Everything you wrote is familiar to me. My own mother is and was a purple faced shrieking tyrant who was well-beyond self absorbed. She hated everything and had no desires in life other than to hurt her children and dominate their lives. All my time with her was nonstop physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. She laughed when my alcoholic stepfather played Russian roulette with my head – she liked to marry alcoholics with anti-social personality disorder; soul-mates I guess. I can’t remember all the times I was held down as a child and had burning cigarettes shoved between my legs….just endless sick abuse. Of course it was “for my own good” and Jesus approved. My older bother and two sisters ended up living in poverty, without job skills, miserable, and dependent on SSI to live on. Most of them cannot even work they are so messed up. They are as self-absorbed and narcissistic as my mother. I move away from my family 26 years ago and will never go back. I have three year now and it’s just beyond me how anyone can take pleasure in causing an innocent child pain. Thanks for you webpage. I will read it over.Rodneyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14811214632705917156noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32237145.post-54378360431345475192010-04-09T18:19:46.307-06:002010-04-09T18:19:46.307-06:00I, too have experienced the mask slipping on my sa...I, too have experienced the mask slipping on my sadistic narcissist mother as she viciously beat me. I, too cannot remember my offense but it was always something small that was elevated when when I questioned why I had to stay home and micro clean the house instead of riding bikes with my friends outside or something like that. She had a long teachers wooden pointer stick that she would beat me with across any exposed body part leaving huge painful welts. In extreme pain, I cried out "You are crazy!" She demanded I put my hands down at my side (I was trying to use my arms to protect myself from the blows) and not resist as she now aimed for my face and head with the cracks from the stick. I was terrified and closed my eyes as she beat me but the memory that always stays with me is when I opened them in shock after a extremely brutal crack, she was smiling as if enjoying my pain. Seeing her pleasure in my agony, terrified me to my core of my being. They enjoy inflicting pain, fear, and confusion on innocent children yet some of them appear to non-family members as perfect parents as they work endlessly at promoting that perfect "image" to their neighbors and authorities.Trinityhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10230248491914437363noreply@blogger.com