How to Spot a Dangerous Man

An interesting article appeared on the UK Daily Mail a few days ago. Erin Pizzey is stating a solemn truth that must be seriously considered by the world: that women are every bit as capable of cruelty and abuse as men are and that it is time to stop pretending that men have the corner on being abusers. She describes her childhood growing up with two abusive parents and describes her mother's abuse as being much worse: ...it was my mother's more emotional, verbal form of abuse that scarred me most deeply. She indulged in a particular kind of soul murder... Those of us raised by a malignant narcissist mother certainly can understand what Erin is describing. I won't be entertaining heated defenses of feminism in the comments section. Keep the comments confined to the point of this article...that women are just as capable of being abusers as men are. And women may very well be more damaging in their form of abuse because they understand the nuances of emotional and verba...

It's superstitiously considered bad form to speak ill of the dead. I say 'superstitiously' because people act like the dead will have their revenge. Maybe it is just that people think it makes the person who does speak ill of the dead look bad themselves. That is true only if by speaking ill they are lying. But when someone dares to speak the truth of the dead, and that truth reflects poorly on the dead, then it is the dead person's fault not the speaker's fault. In case you've missed it there has been a bit of a bruhaha over the obituary for Dolores Aguilar. It first appeared in the Vallejo Times-Herald. It was yanked rather quickly by that paper but not before Aguilar's obit was picked up by the SFist.com, an online newspaper from Aguilar's home town, San Francisco. Then the rumors started to fly about how the obit was a hoax. Both SFist and a journalist from DailyBreeze.com did their research and were able to confirm the obit's authenticit...

From " Characteristics of Narcissistic Mothers ": She terrorized. All abusers use fear to control their victims, and your narcissistic mother used it ruthlessly to train you. Narcissists teach you to beware their wrath even when they aren’t present. The only alternative is constant placation. If you give her everything she wants all the time, you might be spared. If you don’t, the punishments will come. Even adult children of narcissists still feel that carefully inculcated fear. Your narcissistic mother can turn it on with a silence or a look that tells the child in you she’s thinking about how she’s going to get even. This describes my mother; how 'bout yours? The author uses the word "terrorized". This word is not hyperbolic. It is the exact right word to describe what the child of a narcissist mother endures, possibly for a lifetime. At Answers.com we find the military definition of a terrorist: An individual who uses violence, terror, and intimidation t...

I need to put in a clear disclaimer at the outset of this post. I love motherhood. In fact, I am someone who thinks there is no more important job in the world than being a mother. It is my deep, sincere respect for the high office of motherhood that motivates me to highlight the fact that there are mothers out there who have more in common with a serial killer than with true motherhood. These monsters who clothe themselves with the sacerdotal cloth of motherhood while terrorizing the fruit of her womb are worthy of no honor on this day set aside to thank good and decent mothers. Yes, I know very well that all mothers make mistakes. We could never honor any mother if the qualifications for honor were that she never have made any mistakes in raising her young. I don't believe in perfect motherhood. I do believe that good and decent mothers make mistakes, but she more than makes up for them by the fact that she unfailingly loves her children and puts their best interests ahea...

The pitty-pat of the approach of Mother's Day in the U.S. is even now discernible. A month away, I'm sure some of you are starting to feel the creeping dread rise up in your throat. Your stomach sinks; your heart squeezes in the vise-grip of expectations of family and society-at-large to bequeath honor on the dishonorable. At the other end of whatever I end up writing here today, I'll direct you to my ode to evil mothers written last year since I'm not sure I have anything better to say on it. Let me stop for a moment here and tap into my internal rage and see if anything else comes up. Ummmm, ummmmmnnn. This coffee is too good--it's put me in my happy place. Perhaps I'll recount for you part of a conversation with my husband yesterday. We were discussing the comment that I dealt with this last week here and here . Hubby brought up the presumption of the commenter that I was selfishly motivated as well as the implication that I had casually tossed away m...

Speaking of the 'man behind the curtain' in my last post, I thought I would elaborate a bit on my mother's inordinate interest in the movie " The Wizard of Oz ". She refers to the story often and studies it like it is filled with subtle signs and cues of some grand conspiracy. For example, she finds great significance in the color green in the movie. (Emerald City and all.) I don't actually know what the significance is because she won't explicate it. She just looks like she knows the mystery of the color green and expects you to puzzle it out for yourself if you want to prove you're as smart as she is, as well-versed in hidden (occult) knowledge. My mother claims to be a Christian but she is an occultist at heart. Always has been. This obsession of hers about the Wizard of Oz was a later development in her life although I remember from my youngest years that we always watched the movie when it was replayed on TV in the days before videos. Mayb...

Judging by the comments on the last post there was a lot of resonance on the subject of medical neglect by narcissist parents. The other extreme was brought up there too; that of the narcissist parent seeming to relish a child's illnesses and needs for medical attention because the parent has found a way to capitalize on the attention they can derive from these situations. In both cases, as opposite as they appear on the surface, they are just flip sides to the same coin. It is all about whether or not the narcissist is getting the attention they feel they must have to live. I have taken note that my mother was not unique in her views and behaviors toward sickness. I have heard others describe how sickness was treated like a moral failing by their narcissist parent. My mother fully transitioned into this view about the time I was becoming a teen. Because she would feel inconvenienced if anyone became sick in the household she started to issue threats. They went like this: It...

This is another story my mother has told me often enough that it is ingrained in my memory. The event described happened when I was too young to be able to recall it myself. I have to marvel at which events my mother chose to memorialize by telling and re-telling them. I marvel because there is incriminating evidence in her stories if one looks at them from an objective view. This particular story is one she told me numerous times, but I really have no idea if she told it to others. I'll have to ask my cousin if she has heard this one. I was between ages one and two. We were living in the upstairs apartment I described in another post from my early childhood. North Hollywood, CA. I toddled out the door onto the landing and then took a plunge down the fifteen or so concrete steps to ground level. My cry brought my plight to my mother's attention. She scooped me up and ran inside. She picked up the phone. Whom did she call? It might seem like a good time to call a doct...

My cousin, "Lee", relates her memories and impressions from the first visit to my parent's home as a child in this post. Before we get to that, I have remarked in other posts about my cousin about her exceptional memory. Her great recall has earned the opprobrium of my mother. Back when Lee was under my mother's thumb (1997-2002) my mother began to be annoyed at Lee's excellent recall of conversations, events, time and place. One day my mother told Lee, "you really need to work on this [her memory]. It isn't good to remember every thing that happens. I have learned to not remember certain things because some things are not good or right to remember. You need to learn to do that too." At the time, my cousin's memory was getting in the way of my mother's truth revision and therefore earned her a lecture. The silliness of this demand makes me want to burst out laughing every time I think of it. But, there it is. The confession from a ...

Two women are sitting at the table in the breakfast nook sipping their cups of Earl Grey, pinkies in the air, chatting. They've been there since they awakened a couple hours earlier, so they are still in their robes and slippers. It is a mother and her grown daughter. The two of them imagine that drinking Earl Grey tea is evidence of how civilized and urbane they are. If they only knew of its existence they would apply for membership in the Tiara Tea Society . Basking in their contrived sophistication they pretend their way through the morning. They've been enjoying talking at length about themselves to each other; a close observer would pick up a bit of a competition between the women. Little games of one-up-man-ship are being played, but nothing too intense. Today, they are relaxed and in a good humor. Most of their topics, when not totally self-focused, center on gossip about other family members. If you wore special reality-revealing glasses while taking in this s...

All memories are subject to degradation over time. This is an established scientific fact. What science has also discovered is that the memories we have of negative experiences last much longer and degrade much less so than memories not associated with a strong emotional reaction. My first memory dates back to age two. I know that this event happened before the birth of my sister who was born shortly after I turned three which is why I know I was two years old. I have extremely clear memories of where we lived at the time. I was able to prove that to my uncle recently. He seemed surprised and impressed at all the details I could remember about the area I lived in from age zero to about age three and a half. I can clearly describe the layout of the apartment complex as well as the surrounding properties. Point is, I have clear memories starting from a very young age. The reason my first memory became my first memory is because it was accompanied by fear and sense of abandonment....