It’s “World Narcissistic Abuse Day 2024“, and I wanted to take a minute to let you all know what it was really like being raised by a malignant narcissist. It was kinda like THIS:
… for me, growing up felt mostly like constantly falling out of a bloodied and blackened sky as a million tiny shards of glass. My parents had all of my pieces in their hands, but courtesy of their own toxic childhoods, were unable to see or catch my scattered pieces, much less put them back together. Lol. “Generational trauma” … the gift that just keeps on giving. As a result, I was given no choice but to find a way to pick up, make sense of, and mend my shards alone.
(“The Shardsman, The Hammer & The Glue” … from The Diary Of My Perfection)
Look, I dunno who needs to hear this right now, but please don’t be that parent whose grown children struggle with the lifelong fear that your grandchildren are gonna spend their entire lives looking in all the wrong places for the glue to put themselves back together after the childhood trauma recovery prison you sentenced their parent to. Some of us eventually grow up to realize that the families we create and the safe and healthy places we want to take them are much more important than the abusive and unacceptable bullshit YOU served us, so we burn it all down to the ground and “good GOODBYE” you!
The good news is that when you’re children are finally able to cut that sick, black cord that emotionally tethers them to you, there WILL come a point when they realize how much less than extraordinary you really were and that it was merely all love and wasted energy they poured into you (but YOU sucked right back out) that ever made you seem so special in the first place. But you see, the GOOD news here is also the BAD news here, because someday, your kids ARE gonna open their eyes up wide and finally see YOU for what you really are. They’ll see what kind of parent you were. They’ll remember your lack of effort. They’ll see what kind of spouse you were and how you abused their other parent. They’ll see what kind of person you are and how you treated humanity, and even remember how you treated animals. That’s right, TUMOR! You’re someTHING they’ll NEVER wanna be like!
THEY’RE WATCHING EVERYTHING!
With that, and again to all you walking trash bags out there reading this right now who reproduced before getting your broken pieces in order such that your cuts ended up bleeding out on to your babies, here’s a ‘lil nugget for you to chew on while you’re still alive …
Why not at least try to find a way to give your “loved ones” (lol) a reason to cry at your funeral instead of having to sit up in the front row feeling awkward as holy FUCK while the people sitting behind them are wondering, “Who da fuck doesn’t cry at their own parent’s funeral?”
The Diary Of My Perfection 
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