I Cried For You …

Narcissistic abuse leaves you so confused.

It’s like trying to make sense of the nonsensical.

It’s like living in a world where mailboxes are purple, and fire trucks are blue.

A world where people say, “She’s nice, what’s wrong with you?”

A world where it feels wrong to be angry that you’ve been abused.

A world where compassion and empathy work against you.

I’m learning how to leave this world of narcissistic abuse, even though it’s steadily trying to hold on to my shoe.

I cried for you… But you did not come for me.

Never could I imagine that, that’s how much you did not love me,
Or that, deep inside, it meant that much to you to hurt me, because I chose not to worship you.

You expressed anger towards me as a child because you perceived that I didn’t love you. But the crazy thing is, your perception was the furthest thing from the truth. I used to be so excited when Nana said, “She’s coming to get you!” I remember at 8 years old, thinking, “I have the best family imaginable!” But then came the abuse; instead of loving me, you felt challenged by the love that others infused; you were perplexed that I often cried, despite all the things that I had gone through. You took it personal that a small child didn’t seem to love you. I don’t understand you – moments of clarity in a world mostly confused. When I was very small, I cried because I wanted a mother… and I often looked for that nurturing in you.

And yet the saddest part is that the little girl inside of me cries for the little girl inside of you, who had the potential to be someone sooo beautiful, if only she learned how to navigate her own emotional neglect and abuse, but yet she chose not to, because in her inflated mind, she doesn’t understand that we all need to be rescued. Instead, you chose to weaponize a little girl whose mother was found dead behind a school … I cry because you have no idea how much I loved you – it was beyond anything that is even fathomable … I’m sorry that your mind didn’t allow you to see how much I needed you.

“You were just a child,” the therapist said … “she put this heavy burden on your head.”
After Nana died, my heart filled with dread of disappointing you … a psychological slave, built from abuse. And when I was ready to call a truce, you let me cry for months for you. I waited every day for you to come and say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” But “I’m sorry” aren’t words familiar to you. I told the therapist that I thought I “killed” you. That my feelings were too strong and that’s why you behave the way you do. I will never forget when they told me, “There’s nothing you could ever do, to make a mother leave you.”

Deep inside, the little girl inside of me forgives the little girl inside of you, and prays that one day, your little girl can confront her own history of emotional neglect and abuse. But Alas! …

This little girl is finally ready to love herself and free herself from you… Ready to forgive herself for all the ways you told her she hurt you.  This little girl didn’t deserve to be ignored when she cried out for you. She didn’t deserve to end up in a hospital emergency room because that’s how badly she longed for you. She didn’t deserve to see blue checkmarks on WhatsApp, followed by no response when she tried to reach you. A sacred trust is what her mother left for you. This little girl deserves to be loved. In a way, I trusted you … that I could vent my feelings, and your heart would be moved. Fighting was the only way I knew how to get any attention from you. But never again will I cry in that way for you. Years of agony for me that were years of pleasure for you, because deep inside you KNEW… yes, you knew … that, finally…. after 36 years, I was having a difficult time surviving without you.

Thank you to the therapist that taught me that separating from them, doesn’t mean that you don’t love them, it means that you love YOU. No child ever deserves to endure this type of abuse.

I will continue to use my words to let every child know… what happened to them is not an excuse for what they did to you. From now on, I will cry for little Jackie, and not for little you.