Bed bugs: mother’s latest paranoiac fad. Her home’s gonna’ get infested with the little devils. She’s sure of it.
Mother’s paranoia is nothing new. She’s been this way all my life. And her mother is a paranoiac, controlling narcissist too. Together they form a hysterical duo, collecting and trading dangers like some people trade baseball cards. Their “Danger Scrapbook” is second-to-none, bulging with terrors of every description.
Oddly enough, none of these horrors have ever befallen them…nor anyone else in the family. Nevertheless, reality never stopped them from foisting dangers of every kind onto me. And only because they love and care about me, right!?Ah, I remember well the first time their paranoia struck me as, well, odd. Maestro? Flashback harp music, please.
If you need a good laugh today, just click here!
Then there was the day Grandma faked a heart attack and the time she sent the Sheriff to do a “welfare check” on me. Classic! Quintessential narcissistic tactics. Shoulda’ seem ’em coming. But I didn’t.
These two tales stand out in my memory among many tales of narcissistic nincompoopery. For years, I thought they were must Grandma being weird. But in my online research about narcissism, I ran across tales of other narcissists pulling the same shit. If they can’t get their way, they’ll suddenly develop chest and arm pain. If they’re wrong, they get shortness of breath. If they’re not the center of attention, they’ll pull ye olde heart attack stunt and start popping nitro. Anything to steal the limelight, especially at other people’s weddings, parties, etc.
And police welfare checks? It turns out that’s a quintessential narcissist tactic too.
Click here to read all about the shit my grandmother's pulled in Part 3 of the "Granny Trilogy"!
It was Mom who taught me the Granny Two-Step. She’d been polishing her dance steps since her birth. She had to…if she wanted to be loved and accepted by her mother.
Disclaimer: The Granny Two-Step is predicated on lying, clairvoyance, being intimidated, greed and “to thine own self being untrue.” Dance at your own risk!
Want to learn it!? Okay, okay! You twisted my arm! Maestro? Music, if you please!
Up on your toes now. Step forward gracefully, one step at a time, threading your way gingerly through conversation with Grandma. Your clairvoyance at fever pitch. Your intuition trembling like a cat’s whisker, sensitive to the most subtle (but usually blatant) judgmentalism emanating from Grandma.
Ooops! Said the wrong thing! Hit a Grandma Land Mine (GLM)!
Quick! Take two-steps backwards, bowing from the waist, clumsily backtracking and trying to convincingly eating your words to get back into Grandma’s good graces. Her opinion of you is paramount. Authenticity be damned!
Now, up on your toes again. Take another step forward. Damn! Said the wrong thing again! Hit another GLM.
Two steps backwards, kissing Grandma’s ass.
And that, my dears, is how you dance the Granny Two-Step!
To read the whole article, click here! Believe me...it gets better!