Boundaries Aren't Abound

So you think you can impose boundaries on a narcissist? Think again Jack.

I often reach that point that one reaches when completely frustrated with my Mother, who I'll probably refer to as NarcMom for the rest of my life. Being a crunchy punk rock SNAG (sensitive new age guy), I've never been adverse to psychotherapy and in fact have learned most of my lessons about the NarcMom through what's become years of therapy. Anyhow, I'm frustrated. I'm a little fucking frustrated Jew with a dark cloud hanging over my shixa name and I need to take action. So, this time I try something my therapist recommended. In fact something that his wife had used with her NarcMom years before to an effective end.

His suggestion? Impose boundaries. Specifically boundaries about communication. See, the NarcMom likes to call over and over again, email incessantly; starts to freak out if she hasn't heard back - perhaps you know the type - thinks something horrible has happened to you because you haven't called back within an acceptable time frame? Yeah, you know the type.

So I send an email. Effectively saying "don't call me anymore." Going on to explain why, and politely requesting that we keep all of our communication (for the time being) to emails. I wasn't being a dick, I was just attempting to create one of the first boundaries in my life with my mother. Me, an adult/husband/father just now doing this? Pathetic, I know. But necessary.

Interestingly, days later while I was busy patting myself on the back for finally creating some structure between us and slowly beginning to disassemble the parentified child paradigm that I'd been living for the last 20+ years, SHE CALLS. That's right, just "BANG!" which was actually "rrring" but might as well have been my 8 year old son smacking my face with a fry pan for no reason. In one cellular phone ring and caller ID glance I received my first real "FUCK YOU, I DON'T *DO* BOUNDARIES" from the NarcMom. Of course, I didn't answer, to avoid being a complete asshole - but this was perhaps my mistake as the calls continue to this day. Replete with lengthy voicemails asking me how I'm doing and what's going on in her life. The very things that I specifically requested we keep to email.

I think I'm going to address it through an email, but first I have to rant so you - the reader - have the opportunity to think to yourself "why didn't you address it in email the first time she did it?"

Well, now you know why. Not because I hadn't thought of it, just because I'd rather write about it first and get a chuckle before getting back to that tedium of breaking down ye olde parent-child paradigms.