There is self-esteem and grandiose narcissism..
There is the sense that you can accomplish your goals and grandiose narcissism.
My Mother was brutally narcissistic.
In her mind, I was an object, a toy used to control and dominate my father; a thing she used to secure and please new boyfriends.
My Mother’s control over my intellectual and emotional life was so complete that when she cried I cried.
Even when I didn’t know why she was crying.
Today’s therapy session focused on the fact that I still “discover” that someone I cared about and admired is a pathological narcissist.
I repeatedly “discover” that the breach of boundaries, the use of my resources without consideration, the inflated claims of competence and the derision for anyone who dared to contradict these claims are signs that I’m in another cycle of repetition.
I meet my Mother…
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