I Never Had a Dad. I Had a Boogeyman.

Am I overstating?

I mean, if we’re going to make comparisons, I’m sure as far as father’s go, there are some that make him look like a goddamn saint.

However, as far as fathers go, mine sucks.

For the first 5 or 6 years, he lured me into a world where I was a princess with my whole life ahead of me.

I was adored. I was precious. I ruled a world where I was content and happy.

My mom was a little scary, but that was cool, because my dad fucking rocked. My mother suffered from severe depression with suicidal ideologies. She is awesome now. I wish her life could have been different.  

He took away the love and adoration. I spent the rest of my childhood into adulthood going “Wait, what?”

I spent decades wondering what I had done wrong. Why did he take his love away? What was wrong with me?

Then, I learned about parental narcissism. I learned that children take a well worn path. They have their role and they play their part.

I am not an expert in anything, but my father and I danced that dance like we were Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

I spent my earliest years being nothing more than a reflection of him.

As humans do, I became more self aware. I began developing a sense of self.

If you are child of a narcissist, then you know, developing a sense of self is a transgression the narcissistic parent will never forgive.

I stopped being a reflection of him. He saw this as a betrayal. Malignant narcissists never forget and never forgive a betrayal.

My life went from being revered to being told I was ugly and worthless. That the world would have been better had I never existed.

I think calling him the Boogeyman is fair.

He is fading so fast.

My dad is 82 years old and has congestive heart failure and COPD. He can walk a little bit before having to sit down. Like from the living room to the dining room.

He doesn’t really have his voice anymore. His voice sounds the way phlegm would sound if it could talk.

He falls down.

His skin has turned black in spots due to lack of oxygen.

He doesn’t eat much.

He smokes cigarettes and drinks soda.

The Boogeyman, my Boogeyman, isn’t scary anymore. He hasn’t been for years.

I feel sorry for him and I don’t think he will be here much longer.

Life is weird and hard.

I’m sorry that he wasted his life in bitterness, insecurity, and hatred. I’m sorry he chose to reject a relationship with 3 daughters who would have loved and cared for him.

I didn’t have a dad. I had a Boogeyman.

I have to think having a dad would have been better.

Image by Christian Supik (Fotografie) + Manuela Pleier (Design) from Pixabay

Parental Narcissism: There are no neat little little bows

I had this all figured out. I did.

60 is upon me. I can binge a few seasons of a couple shows maybe before heading into that next decade? I mean, long running shows. Like Frasier or Friends, before turning 60. But not super long running shows. Not Doctor Who or SNL. Or The Simpsons. 


I’ve written about parental narcissism for years now. I went from discovery to acceptance to really not thinking about it much.

Then my dad started winding down. Hard.

Life isn’t neat and orderly. Problems present themselves and sometimes we can wait a lifetime for no answers. Life is capricious.

Too bad life isn’t actually like a sitcom. You know, a conflict is introduced and after some pain, soul searching, or misunderstanding, a solution gets presented.

But in real life? The Huxtable’s always figured out their shit on the show, but in real life, when Cliff Huxtable was just Bill Cosby, life becomes complicated and dark. So, I guess sitcoms don’t offer much usable guidance.

My dad is winding down.

And he’s doing this thing.

I talked about it before. I don’t want to be a broken record here, but it’s freaking me the fuck out.

When I was very young, my father worshipped me. I was a princess.

Then, I wasn’t.

I spent literal decades looking for that approval again. I didn’t get it.

I let it go. Or I thought I did.

When I see my dad now, he always seems genuinely glad to see me. I have no idea how to react.

When we leave, he hugs me and tells me he loves me.

See? This is fucking up my nice, neat little bow. I dealt with this shit.

I would be kind. I would be helpful, but I sure as fuck wasn’t going to care.

Now, I care a little. And I have to deal with anger, bitterness and so many things that I am just so goddamn tired of dealing with.

I mean, it changes nothing. He’s brain damaged and our relationship was damaged beyond repair before the decade of the seventies ended.

I let go of the anger. I let go of the bitterness. I let go of a lot.

I’m doing my best to not let the feelings bubble up again, because what is the point in that?

I do see something on the horizon, though. I’d like to pretend I don’t, but I do.

I can feel grief waiting. How is that fair?

No one gets any nice, neat little bows, do they?



The Eye Of The Narcissism Storm

We’re in the eye of the narcissism storm.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder has been a theme of this blog years before the 2016 election.

I’ve been fretting, screaming and pleading for years now. The stupid president couldn’t be more dangerous. He’s broken beyond repair and he’s collapsing.

I’ve said many times this is going to get worse. And now we are here. Now, we’re going to see the worst.

At least I think we will.

Is it possible he’s got some slimy, vile schemes up his sleeve when he leaves office? Well, sure. I wouldn’t be shocked.

I mean, he’d need a lot of help, because let’s face it, the man is many things. He’s gross, traitorous, a predator, seditious, treasonous, bigoted, misogynistic, devoid of empathy and has no rhythm. One thing he is not: smart.

The man is stupid. If he’s going to create chaos after he’s gone from our house, then he needs help.

Regardless of what he does beginning January 21st doesn’t matter right now. What matters is the chaos he is going to cause now.

A collapsed narcissist behaves like a wounded, cornered animal.

I try to find silver linings in every situation and, sometimes, that is a goddamn hard thing to do.

How can I find any good in what our lives are right now? Over 300K are dead.

He golfs while acts of domestic terrorism play out. People hunger. People are being evicted.

What good can I find in any of this?

I’m hopeful that at the very least, more people will have a better understanding of narcissistic personality disorder.

Perhaps, after being exposed to the lord, king, god of all narcissists for years will bring about a broader understanding of this disorder.

Maybe, it will help people identify what type of monster they are dealing with and it will protect them.

He’ll do everything he can to burn down as much as he can, but if this serves as an education for the rest of us, perhaps we won’t be the only narcissist who collapses and deflates.

I mean, it’s probably just a fantasy.

But I kind of dig it.


Image courtesy of Pixabay.