The Bad Mother's Escape - Part 1 of 3

 

Long post Alert

Preface

The following post is about my last journey from my marital home in Jammu to my sister’s place in Chennai; I describe in detail everything that happened in those 48 hours of travel, the voices of my inner critic and guide, and my wavering thoughts and feelings during the whole time.

   A good question to ask oneself before producing a work of labour/ sharing personal matters is, “Why do it?”. Upon asking that to myself I arrived at two things; 1. Such a catharsis will clear my mental space for better things and 2.one man’s experience is another man’s lesson. At a time when the internet was all I had for help, it was the blog posts of psychologists and the comments of survivors around the world that helped me gain clarity, hope and strength. I trust that this attempt to perpetuate the goodwill reaches the person in need.

Disclaimer

I speak of Jammu and Punjab only to highlight the distance and the cultural differences that I encountered and not to spark off a North vs South debate. There are all kinds of people everywhere.

 Since this is my personal story, I write from a woman's perspective. But narcissists and their victims come from both the genders.

Introduction

          Pacified by the promises of my Mr. Perfect boyfriend Rahul (name changed), I took a giant leap of faith and landed in Jammu to be married into a Punjabi family as the Badi bahu (eldest daughter -in-law). The fleeting romance of college days turned into excruciating marital/ familial discord. There was something odd about the atmosphere at home, the vibe was very unnerving. Unlike the movies, life doesn’t come with background music to help you gauge the seriousness of the situation. I carried on in the assumption that everything will eventually be fine and never missed an opportunity to prove my devotion to my new family, but in vain. In the pretence of giving me sufficient rest from household chores, my mother-in-law formula fed my son, rocked him to sleep, played with him and told him stories thereby curbing me from all methods of establishing a bond with my baby. Two years into the marriage, a psychologist pointed out that I am not evil, incapable, or insane but am being subjected to Narcissistic Abuse.

            As I learnt about it from the internet, I left no stone unturned in becoming the perfect wife, mother, and daughter-in-law; I believed that my case is not as hopeless as what the internet says and hence anticipated redemption. By the time of our fifth anniversary almost 3 of Rahul’s female cousins got married, regardless of their efficiency their family treated them with love and respect while my character was slowly and steadily being assassinated in the community; so much so that people felt sorry for Rahul. This realization of unfair treatment meted out to me made me almost quit my marriage, but my decision was met with the criticism of being a bad and irresponsible mother. So, I chose to follow the advice of remaining in the marriage for my son’s well-being. Of course, the innocent child should not have to pay for my problems. I continued for another 3 and half years in Jammu with low self-esteem, shattered confidence, and stress induced ailments.

  Initially a hands-on father, Rahul’s parenting style became increasingly toxic as my son grew older. His every move was instructed and monitored. The child was screamed at for any minor misbehaviour, his diet was according to Rahul’s whim and fancy. Rahul and my in laws felt threatened by my son’s growing fondness for me and that would result in random meaningless accusations aimed at the 7-year-old for not loving them enough.  The child’s gut was probably sensing the unnerving vibe too because he often suffered from indigestion. I felt helpless for not being able to provide him even half of the rollicking childhood experiences I had. Is this what good mothers do? Meekly let their child live a substandard life knowing full well that they are adequately educated and competent enough to change things for the better?!

   Strong people empower others, weak people manipulate, control, and walk over others in a frenzy to inflate their egos; precisely what Rahul and my in-laws were doing.  What good will it do to raise my son in such an environment? As I contemplated on this, I also discovered my husband’s infidelity. Push had come to shove by now. Upon confrontation, my husband wore a tired look and asked me to stop imagining things, he refused to engage in the conversation and went about his business.  I never felt lonelier. Conversation is the easiest form of companionship; honesty is the simplest form of love and closure is the basic form of respect. Apparently, I was getting none of that……only more and more of the godawful lies and gaslighting. His friends’ wives advised me to stop doubting him and his relatives did not want to involve in family politics. If I have no one to turn to……if I must deal with things by myself…… why not do it the way I deem fit?

   Putting up with a dysfunctional marriage sucks a lot of life out of you. I was growing old faster. My irritability was an indicator of my low reserves of energy. I decided to put whatever left over energy to good use and get the hell out of my marriage, and yes, my baby goes with me!

To be continued....