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Privacy? Fugetaboutit!


Narcissists are incredibly predictable. They come in vanilla (neglecting) and chocolate (engulfing), but the actions actions of both varieties can still be anticipated. That’s why children of narcissists have shockingly similar experiences growing up.

7 thoughts on “Privacy? Fugetaboutit!

  • May 14, 2016 at 7:07 pm

    This is the best article I have read so far on living with a narcissist, and the aftermath of experiencing such a childhood. One thing I would like to learn more about is how a “normal” adult child of narcissistic parents should approach parenting their own children. It’s a tough road when you have no decent role models for this all important stage of life. I think I have done a good job of it, but now that my child is grown I sometimes think I see signs that I could have done a few things differently. She is a great daughter and we are good friends, I just can’t help second guessing myself.
    Thanks!

    Reply
  • May 15, 2016 at 7:58 pm

    Great articles which describe my life situation! I appreciate being asked to be a friend on Facebook! Upon, which I confirmed! I realized something was not “right” with our family and it is your blog which I encountered on Psych Central that I was being recognized as having narcisstic parents! Thank you!

    Reply
    • May 15, 2016 at 8:02 pm

      I’m honored that my blog helped you recognize your parents are narcissists. That moment is sad…but as magical as falling in love or coming to Faith in God. An “aha” moment you’ll never forget!

      Read, learn and heal!!

      God bless! Hugs!

      ~ Lenora

      Reply
  • May 26, 2016 at 7:17 am

    Thanks so much for this article Leonora. Sometimes the Narcs rattle your confidence and make you feel nervous. The thing that makes me so sad about them is the fact that I have to be the one to walk away from my own home at times. The Peace that comes is proof for me that being around a ‘Narc’ is bad for your spirit and your confidence. Escaping feels like the sensible thing to do though. Just hanging around to feel bad is insane.

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  • February 26, 2017 at 10:11 pm

    Oh gosh, this is crazy, and I’m so relieved (in a weird way) there are others who experienced this. I am dying to give just a few examples of my life in the Cult of Walter (what I call my family).

    When I was 34, I had to temporarily move back in with my progenitors (I was finishing college, and my living situation had fallen through). They gave me the room next to theirs — a room with a door that simply didn’t shut. Sure, I could shove it as closed as possible, but it really didn’t matter, because they didn’t care if it was shut or not.

    Their SOP: they’d knock, and if I didn’t answer, they’d throw the door open and come right in. The agonizing part was that the male half of my progenitors had this routine: he’d knock really formally on the door. If I responded “disrespectfully” – meaning if I called out in response, no matter how politely – instead of by physically coming to the door and opening it, he’d ignore me and knock again. Finally, he’d clear his throat and say in an uber-formal voice (the uber-formal voice he NEVER uses but in situations like these), “May I come in?”

    I’ve come to realize that he’d do this because he wanted to create the illusion that he respected my privacy and was even asking permission, so that when his manner inevitably exasperated me, he’d have an opening to start ranting about how rude and unkind I was.

    One more: I have four kids from my first marriage; I started college right after that divorce (at 30), so when I had to move back in with them at 34, you’d THINK they’d recognize I was an adult, right? That whole “been married for 13 years and even made babies” thing? Well. My now-husband and I had at that time been dating for almost a year, and one night, I was extremely upset about something pretty serious. Though I never, ever, allowed him to come to that house (for obvious reasons), that night, for some reason I asked him to come over so I could talk about it.

    Crazy rebellious middle-aged kids that we were, we thought it would be a good idea to have a private discussion by going into my “room” and closing the door (so to speak). Amazing, right? Who did we think we were? Because not three minutes elapsed before my male progenitor whomped on the door and performed his routine.

    When I did open the door, he stared at us with a look that would have withered the courage of Achilles himself and proceeded to bite off words to the effect that he would kill my now-husband if he (my “father”) even THOUGHT we were “getting up to something good.” He said that if we wanted to “visit,” we could do it in the living room.

    Yeah . . . wow.

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  • June 7, 2017 at 2:41 pm

    I grew up living with my mother and grandmother. My mom is definitely BPD and NPD, and my grandmother was something I haven’t figured out yet. Co dependent maybe. Anyway, they figured out that they could listen in on the neighbors and MY phone calls on a scanner if they were or I was using a cordless phone. They would insist that I spend time at home with them, but they would spend most of their time in my grandmother’s bedroom, mom on the floor and grandma in her bed listening in on the neighbor’s phone conversations like old time radio soap operas. They could here some of my friends and there parents, and if they didn’t like what they heard, I wasn’t allowed to see them. They would call me back to the bedroom and make me listen, which number one, made me have to lie to people about why and keep my thoughts straight, careful not to let on that I knew something that I wasn’t supposed to know about them or their parents. It also made me a sneak, because I would still want thise friends and would lie about where i was going once i had my licensr. If I wanted to talk to my friends, I had to use the cordless, so they could spy on me. They deny that, but they did.

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  • June 7, 2017 at 5:20 pm

    Sorry for the typos and here instead of hear

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