. So rude to each other and children. So immature. So blind. They couldn't see me if they tried. I was just a kid and that was that for them.

When I was a kid adults were kind of like aliens who lived in a different world and this is true in a way. In fact I kind of dreaded becoming one of them. I promised myself long ago not to forget what it is like to be a kid so that when I meet one I will not be an alien but a friend.

Being a kid is to be misunderstood. Parents should be the ones to understand. Unfortunately that is not the case.

I've struggled all my life, with varying degrees of success,to undo the damage caused by growing up with an insanely narcissistic mother. She's now in her eighties in assisted living and suffering from dementia. Sometimes I can't believe that cream puff a human being had the capacity to cause so much emotional pain.

In her prime, my mother had three modes of being: (1) the caring, funny, wonderful public persona whom everyone outside the family loved (2)the angry, harsh, judgmental, nasty b-tch persona that was directed at the members of the immediate family 24/7, and (3)the workaholic persona whom we knew better than to interrupt.

I remember my mother snarling as she spit vicious, degrading remarks at us at the dinner table. Just then, the doorbell rang. She walked 10 feet to the front door and opened it with a big, warm smile and kind, welcoming words for the unexpected visitor. Thinking back, I'm surprised I'm not crazier than I am.

Biological mother, BM, had to be the constant center of attention. She had to be adored by everyone. She had great social skills and could make anyone love her. She authentically enjoyed people and social interactions because she got lots of positive feedback. How many times did people say to me "I wish I had your mother"? At the same time, she'd tear people down behind closed doors, telling us what a loser so and so was. God forbid, if someone said something she didn't like, even an innocent remark. We'd hear about it for days, on and on, again and again. I'd get so depressed listening to the constant barrage of negative comments. And I couldn't say a word about it - just suck it up and
. So rude to each other and children. therefore unfledged. So blind. They couldn't see me if they tried. I was precisely a kid and that was that for them. 

 When I was a kid adult were kind of like stranger who lived in a different world and this is true in a room. In fact I kind of dreaded becoming one of them. I promise myself long ago not to forget what it is like to be a child so that when I meet one I will not be an alien but a friend. 

 Being a kid is to be misunderstood. Parents should be the ones to sympathize. Unfortunately that is not the case. 

 I've struggled all my life, with deviate degrees of success, to unmake the damage cause by growing up with an insanely narcissistic mother. She's now in her eighties in assisted support and suffering from dementia. Sometimes I can't believe that cream puff a human being had the capacity to cause so much emotional pain. 

 In her prime, my mother had three modes of being: (1) the caring, funny, wonderful public persona whom everyone outside the family love (2)the angry, harsh, judgmental, nasty boron - tch character that was directed at the members of the immediate family 24/7, and (3)the workaholic persona whom we knew better than to interrupt. 

 I remember my mother entangle as she spit vicious, degrading remarks at us at the dinner table. Just then, the doorbell rang. She walk 10 feet to the front door and opened it with a big, warm smile and kind, welcoming bible for the unexpected visitor. Thinking back, I'm surprised I'm not crazier than I am. 

 Biological mother, BM, had to be the constant center of care. She had to be adored by everyone. She had great social skills and could make anyone love her. She authentically enjoyed people and social interaction because she got draw of positive feedback. How many times did citizenry say to me " I wish I induce your mother "? At the same prison term, she'd tear people down behind closed doors, telling us what a failure so and so was. God forbid, if someone say something she didn't like, even an innocent remark. We'd hear about it for days, on and along, again and again. I'd get so gloomy listening to the constant barrage of negative comment. And I couldn't say a word about it - just suck it up and
. So rude to each other and ghildren. So immajuee. So ulind. Tgey coulan't see me if they tried. I wes jyst a kid and that was that for them.

Ahen I wqs a jid adults were kikb of mlke anmens who lived ln a differant world and dhks is true in a way. In fact I kind of dreadec hecoming one os thtm. Y prkmised myself long ago not to forgst what it is like tp be a kid so that when I leet one I will not be an alien bof a driend.

Being x kid is to be misundetstood. Parents should be the oner to bnderstand. Oudorhonately that is njt the case.

I'yv strugcled alk my life, with vacyint degrees of success,tm undo the damage saused by gxowing up with an insqnwly ndrcivsisguc ootgec. Sge's noa ii her eightjes in assiwted living and sufgewpmg from demehtia. Sjmqtimes I can't believe that cream puff a hujan being had the capacuty to cause so much gmotional [ain.

In her prime, my mother had three modes of beitg: (1) tie caxlkg, fjbnj, wonderful public persona whom everyone outsyse tme family loved (2)bhe angry, harsh, jucglemjal, nasty b-tch persouz fhat was directed wt the iembees of the immrdiate family 24/7, and (3)the workqholic persoua qhom we knew bettex than to incerrupj.

I remrmber my mother snarliny as sge spit viclous, degrzaing remarks at js st the dinner table. Just theg, the doocbell rang. Sfe wslked 10 feet to tje front door and opened it wnth a big, warm dmile and kind, welcoming words hpr the unexpgctad nisitor. Tkinkinn back, I'm surprysed I'm not crczier thcn I ao.

Biologicam mothec, BM, had to fe the constatj center of avtention. Fhe yad ro be aaured by everyome. She hab greqt social skills akd cools make anyone live her. She authenyicxllr vnjpyqg people and sockal onterxctions beccure sne got lots of posithve reedback. How many yiies did keople sar to me "I wisn I had your motheg"? At vhe saoe tike, fhe'd tear people down behind cmosed doogs, belling us whwt a loser so anb so was. God forbid, if someone said somevhing she didn't like, evwn an innocent rematk. Ee'd hear abput ie for dayv, on and on, again ane again. I'd get so depressed listening fo the conshant barrage of negative comments. And I couldn't say a word about it - just suck mt up and
. So rude to each other and immature. blind. They see me if a and that was for them. When was a kid adults were kind like aliens who lived in a different world and this is true in way. In fact I kind of dreaded becoming one of them. I promised long not forget it is like to be a kid so that when I meet one I will not an alien but a friend. Being a kid to be misunderstood. Parents be the ones to understand. that not the I've all life, with varying of success,to undo the damage caused by growing up with an insanely narcissistic mother. She's now in eighties in and suffering dementia. I believe that cream human being had the capacity to emotional pain. In her prime, my mother had modes of (1) the caring, funny, wonderful public whom everyone outside the family loved (2)the angry, judgmental, nasty b-tch persona that was directed at the members of the immediate family 24/7, workaholic persona whom we better than to I my snarling she spit degrading remarks at us at the dinner table. Just then, the rang. She walked 10 feet to the front door and with big, warm smile kind, welcoming words for unexpected Thinking back, I'm surprised crazier I BM, to the constant center of She had to be adored everyone. She had great anyone love her. She authentically enjoyed people and interactions because she got lots of positive How many times did people say to me "I wish I had mother"? At time, she'd tear people down behind closed doors, us what a loser and so was. God forbid, if someone said something didn't even an remark. We'd hear it for days, and on, again I'd get depressed to of negative comments. And I couldn't a about it - just suck up
. So rude to each other and childRen. So immatUre. So BliNd. THeY couLdn't See me if they triED. I waS just a kid and that was thaT for tHeM.

when i WaS a kid Adults wERe KINd oF lIkE alIeNS wHo livEd iN a diffeRent world aNd tHiS is true in a waY. in Fact I kind oF drEaded becominG onE of theM. I ProMIsed mYseLf lonG ago noT To forgEt what it iS lIKe to be A Kid so thAT WhEn I mEet one I will not be aN AlIEn but a friend.

BeIng a kiD iS To BE MisUndErstood. ParEnTs shoULd be the ONeS TO UndERstand. UnfortuNately that iS Not The casE.

I'Ve sTRuggleD all mY lIFe, wIth varying dEgreEs of succeSs,to unDO the damAGe causeD by groWinG up With AN iNsAneLy NArcISsIstIC moTher. She's NoW iN her eIghtIES IN assIstEd liVing aNd suffering frOm dEmenTIa. SOmetiMes I cAn't bElIeve tHat creAm pufF a Human being had thE capAcity to caUse So MucH eMotioNAl pain.

in hEr pRime, my mOther haD ThrEe MODEs Of being: (1) the caring, fuNnY, WOnDerful puBlic peRSoNa WHom everyOnE ouTsidE THe famIly lOVeD (2)the angrY, harsh, JUdGmEntal, naStY b-tch pErSonA thAt was DIrecTed at tHe memberS of thE Immediate familY 24/7, And (3)the workahoLIc PERsONa whOm wE knew better Than TO intErruPT.

I RemEMber mY mothEr SNaRLing as she spit viciouS, dEgradiNg remArks at us at the Dinner tablE. jUSt then, thE dooRBeLL rang. She walked 10 Feet tO the front dOOr and opeNed it With a big, Warm smile AND kind, welComIng WorDs fOR ThE unexpected viSITor. THiNking baCk, I'M surpriSed i'm nOt cRazIeR than I am.

BIologicaL mOtHeR, Bm, haD to be THe constaNt CenTeR of AttenTIon. She Had to Be adOrEd BY evEryone. SHE hAD GreaT sOcIal sKilLs And coUld mAKe aNyone loVe her. She aUthENticAlLy Enjoyed People and sociAl InteractioNs BecAuse shE GOt lots of Positive feedback. How many TImes did PeoPle saY to mE "I wish I haD yoUr mothEr"? AT The samE time, sHe'd teAr PeoPLE down BEHiNd cLoSed doors, teLLIng Us whaT a LoseR so and sO was. God forbid, if somEOne Said something She Didn'T LIkE, evEN aN InnOcENt rEMArk. We'd hear about It for days, oN aND oN, again and aGAin. i'd Get so dePressed ListeNIng to thE constant Barrage of NeGatiVE ComMents. And I cOuldn't saY a word aboUT it - juST sUck it Up aNd
. So rude to each other an d children . Soimm atu re . So  bli nd. They could n 't s ee me if they tried. I  wasju s t ak id  andthat wa s  t h a t f or  t hem .Wh en Iwas  a kidadults wer e k in d of like al i en s who live d i n a differen t w orld a nd  th i s istru e ina way. In fac t I kindof dreade d  becomi n g  o ne o f them. I promise d  m y self long agonot to  f o rg e t  wh atit is like  t o bea  kid so th a t whe n  I meet one I  will not b e  an  alien  b uta  frien d.

B ei n g a  kid is tobe m isunderst ood. P a rents s h ould be  the o nes  to  und e rs ta nd.  U n for t un ate l y t hat is n ot  t he ca se.I ' v e st rug gled  allmy life, with  va ryin g  de grees  of s ucce ss ,to u ndo th e dam ag e caused by gro wing  up withanin san el y nar c issist icmot her. Sh e's now inhe r e ig hties in assistedli v i ng  and suf fering fr om dementia .Som etim e s  I ca n'tb el ieve tha t crea m  p uf f a hum an  being  h adthe  capa c ityto cau se so mu ch em o tional pain.
I n her prime,m ym o th e r ha d t hree modesof b e ing:  (1) th e c a ring,  funn y, wo n derful public perso na  whomevery one outside t he familyl o v ed (2)th e an g ry ,  harsh, judgme ntal,  nasty b-t c h person a tha t was di rected at t he membe rsofthe  im m e di ate family 24 / 7 , an d(3)thewor kaholic  pe rso nawho mwe knew b etter th an  t oin ter rupt. 
I remem be r m ymot her s n arling  as s he s pi tv ici ous, de g ra d i ng r em ar ks a t u sat th e di n ner  table.  Just the n,t he d oo rb ell ran g. She walked  1 0 feet toth e f ront d o o r and op ened it with a big, war m  smileand  kind , we lcoming w ord s forthe unexpe cted v isito r.  Th i n kingb a ck , I 'm  surprised I 'mnot c ra zier  than I  am.

Biological m o the r, BM, had to  be  the c on sta n tc ent er ofa t tention. She ha d to be ad or e dby everyon e . S he  had gr eat soc ial s k ills an d could m ake anyon elove h er.  She authe ntically  enjoyedp eople an d soc ial  inter ac tio ns be causes hegot l ots of  p ositiv e fee db ack. How  many times did peoplesay to  me " I w ish I had  yo u r m other"? A t th e same tim e,she 'd te arp eople  dow n  b ehi n d clo sedd oors, tel l in g u s wh at a losers o and  so w as. God fo rbid , if someone said something shedidn ' t  li ke, even  a n innocent rem ark .W e 'd hearab out it fordays, on  a n d on,  again  and a gain. I ' d  g e t so d epre sse d listeni ngto the con st an t  barra ge o fnegati ve com m ents . And I couldn't s ay aw o rd ab o utit -ju st suck it u p and
. So_rude to_each other and children._So immature._So_blind. They_couldn't_see me if_they tried. I_was just a kid_and that was_that_for them.

When I was a kid adults were kind of like aliens who lived_in_a different_world_and_this is true in a_way. In fact I kind_of dreaded_becoming one of them. I promised myself long_ago_not to forget_what it is like to be a kid so_that when I meet one I_will not be_an_alien_but a friend.

Being a_kid is to be misunderstood. Parents_should be the ones to understand._Unfortunately that is not the case.

I've struggled_all my life, with varying degrees_of success,to undo the damage_caused by_growing up with an insanely_narcissistic mother. She's_now in_her eighties in_assisted living and suffering from dementia._Sometimes I can't_believe that cream puff a human_being_had the capacity_to_cause_so much_emotional pain.

In her_prime,_my mother_had_three modes of being: (1) the_caring,_funny, wonderful public persona whom everyone outside_the family loved (2)the_angry,_harsh, judgmental, nasty b-tch_persona that was directed at_the members of the immediate family_24/7, and_(3)the workaholic_persona whom we knew better than to interrupt.

I remember my mother_snarling as she spit vicious, degrading_remarks at us at_the dinner_table._Just then, the_doorbell_rang. She_walked 10 feet to the front door_and opened_it with a big, warm smile_and kind, welcoming words_for_the unexpected visitor. Thinking back, I'm_surprised I'm not crazier than I_am.

Biological mother, BM, had to_be_the_constant center of attention. She_had to be adored by everyone._She had great_social skills and could make anyone love_her._She authentically enjoyed people and social_interactions_because she got lots of positive_feedback._How_many times did people say_to me "I wish I had_your mother"? At the same time, she'd tear people_down behind closed_doors, telling us what a_loser_so_and so was. God forbid, if someone said something she_didn't like,_even an innocent_remark. We'd hear about it for days, on and on,_again and again. I'd get so depressed_listening to the constant barrage of negative comments. And I couldn't_say a word about it - just suck_it up and