The Narcissists Daughter

 

You’re not an alcoholic

you’re a narcissist.

 

Selfish.

 

Self-centered,

self-hating man.

 

Am I calling you names?

Have these shots been fired?

 

I feel sad for you

when I see that you are self-hating.

Maybe it would have helped me

if I had seen that sooner,

because I hated you too.

 

You were controlling.

You were addicted to Power like it came in cans like Coca Cola.

Every day drinking,

all for you, none for us.

None for me.

 

Coca Cola gave you diabetes.

I guess you had too much.

 

Maybe with cans of Power it was the opposite.

You drank it,

but it was me who had too much.

 

I had too much.

It’s still too much.

 

Because you haven’t changed, much.

still trying to control me

any time I try

to come close.

 

When I stay away

there’s nothing to control

and you’re not in charge of my thoughts.

 

You used to occupy a place in my mind

I could hear your voice

when you weren’t there.

That was when

your judgment followed me

everywhere.

And I always knew

how you felt

about everything I was doing,

-even though you never cared how I felt about anything.

 

Well I told that voice to leave,

I told it where it should go,

and it went.

I got you out of my head, if it was you at all.

 

 

I’m not mad at you anymore,

because I’ve cleared my thoughts,

cleared my heart.

You verbally abused me,

but I no longer need your apology.

I’ve forgiven your unkindness,

and forgiven you for not being sorry.

 

It’s not about the past anymore,

dear narcissist dad…

I wish you’d stop fucking up the present –

not that I have expectations of you,

but it’s just bags of misery

every time I open the door

on our relationship.

 

I don’t feel obligated

to open the door at all,

(and a healthy person

could discern that it is a privilege

that I still do).

 

 

Now I concentrate

on the impact you made

on me.

I’m not thinking about the narcissist anymore.

I’m thinking about the daughter of the narcissist.

 

Even though

I didn’t let you walk me down the aisle

and

I don’t define myself through our relationship,

I did spend a lot of time looking up at you

and even longer

tip-toeing around you,

in well-worn pathways.

 

I’m a daughter of a narcissist,

and even after all my freedom chasing,

it is still second nature

to tip-toe.

I still deal with stress

the way you taught me to;

I become a robot.

It’s very efficient,

but I’m not sure

it is what I would’ve chosen

had the path not been so well-worn.

 

And I’m uncertain

what I would have chosen

in terms of vocation

if I had not spent

my entire childhood

being invisible,

and then deciding,

that no child should feel this way,

ever.

 

Surrounded by these questions

I start to feel doubts

about who I am.

 

I know who I am.

I know I’m not you.

I know I am not an appendage of you.

I know I’m not defined by you.

I don’t have to prove myself.

I don’t have to fight for your validation.

 

But how much of me exists

as a coping mechanism to deal with you?

 

And do I thank you for being a part of what shaped me…?

-or yell at you for fucking me up?

 

This is

the most mature me

I have ever been

and I still don’t know

how to deal with daddy issues.

 

I don’t want to be the daughter of a narcissist.

 

 

I want to be done

with the part of my life

where I’m yelling at you

for all the ways that you have hurt me.

 

I want to live the part of my life

where it’s me

living my life.

 

And I want the security of knowing

it’s a life I chose freely.

 

Can someone please let me out of this maze?

Each time I think I’m truly free

I open a new door to find

I’m still

the daughter of a narcissist.

 

 

 

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