Sunday, April 27, 2014

When The Narcissistic Father Is Told He Needs Help


some names have been omitted or changed in this post


I took a seat on one of the black chairs opposite the psychologist's desk. Dr. Malvey cleared his throat loudly behind his graying beard and began asking me questions about home, how I felt about it and how I felt about my parents. I didnt really want to get into it. Feeling I was just being humored I didnt believe another adult would see what I saw. Gradually I gave him a few examples of home life and how restricting it was...  specifics of how emotionally unhealthy it had been and the toll it took on us, especially my mother and siblings. He nodded and took notes, asking some additional questions for confirmation. Eventually he snapped his black leather notebook shut and stood. He shook my hand, smiled pleasantly at me with gray piercing eyes and cordially thanked me for my time and led me out. 

Once back in the hallway he retrieved my parents who went back in with him. It wasnt long before I heard my fathers voice becoming louder behind the closed office door. That made me nervous and I wondered what they were talking about. My sisters and I exchanged knowing looks and we shrugged. My sisters just like myself knew something was different about our family even at their younger ages. Who knew what it was that had set him off this time. Finally the door flew open and my Dad walked out with angry footsteps followed by my mother who had red-rimmed eyes from crying. My Dad walked over to the front desk while our mother quietly told us to put away our books, we were leaving. Waiting for my Dad to write a check for the session I saw his face twisted in fury and he wrote the check with a quick messy flourish, curtly handing it to the petite pleasant woman sitting behind the desk. 
Once outside and in the car my Dad slammed his door, then buckling his seatbelt, spoke 

I have NEVER been so humiliated! So embarrassed! For him to tell us, ME, I'm the problem and you arent!!!! He spewed nearly choking on his words. 

My mouth fell open in shock. 
Someone had told him he was wrong? 
Someone had finally told him his behavior was the problem? 

His gaze met mine in the rearview mirror... meeting my brown-green eyes as I sat in the backseat. 

Yeah, thats RIGHT! REAL funny, HUH?! he shot at me, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I pay all this money for some help with you, and he sits there and tells me IM the PROBLEM!!! he screamed in complete fury. My mother sat silent, hoping hed just shut up. I knew she was gripping her car door hand-rest in terror as the car lurched forward and he sped out of the tiny parking lot like a maniac. 

At the end of the day it didn't matter that he was told his behavior was not healthy.
Because if it didn't spur awareness and then follow with change what good did it actually do? 

I just wanted someone to get me out of there. 
I just wanted someone to free me from this prison. 
I just wanted to run away and never ever return to this hell I was trapped in. 


We may think… 
Where was God? Why was I born into this? Why is this my life? Why am I in this mess? 
Did God even see all this pain? Did God know I was enduring this seemingly never-ending suffering? 

Why? Why? Why? 

These questions are universal and at times we may each feel as though God is simply standing by watching our life go down the drain, watching our life get swept up in a whirlwind of havoc or get highjacked by flying monkeys. But we can remember that those thoughts are what the enemy wants us to believe… that he wants us to get swept up in a cyclic negative thought process that never ends… leaving us in stuck mode and unable to press forward believing zero victory is coming our way. 

But we can tell the enemy
 to stand down 
and to instead cling
 to what God has promised us. 

God always has a purpose to our pain and suffering no matter what we may begin to believe otherwise. What we may not realize is that with deliverance may certainly also include suffering… and maybe, just maybe we were kept from suffering a worse outcome than what we even realize… we may never stop to think that God was there all along and even though we suffered through tragedy, endured horrific circumstances or were terribly mistreated that in reality God spared us from an even worse outcome. 

No matter what we need to escape from... no matter what the awful circumstances… if we need rescue from circumstances we didn't have a hand in or didn't have the knowledge beforehand that our situation would be horrific and we need an escape route we can rest assured that God will help. 

This brings us back… back to thankfulness, to gratitude for God's protection. He is always looking out for us and His love for us is far more reaching than we could ever imagine. Even in the midst of our worst seasons, our darkest hours, our most perilous moments and greatest falls God is still there beside us. 
“I know now that greater is He 

who is in me than he who is in the 

world” 1 John 4:4

So when we begin to wail about our past…  that maybe our childhood involved less than stellar circumstances, when we cry out wondering why on earth God seemed absent during yesterdays struggles, when we question God's good during darkness and suffering… when we fall to our knees in despair because we simply don't believe we can take another second of our situation because it's so dismal… we can remember looking back on those moments… someone WAS there… someone was beside us, someone heard us cry out even in weary silence and tears running down our face… 

Someone was there as now… 

and despite us feeling subjected to the external power of evils in the world,
 we know who that someone is….

Someone who is greater than the world… 


© ~ 2014 

There will be a time when what you've been through will be used by God…

 to tell others, to share, to help others heal.

 Thanks to Him, God will put your story in those people's paths. 

Be brave enough to share it and watch other's become better too. 

To My Readers: 
Thank you for reading, 
commenting and sharing! 

No comments:

Post a Comment