Sorry to jump in at the end, but I did want to give you an update on me. I was NC with Dad for a year or so.
I called him last weekend.
Now, before you all sigh and throw your hands up in despair, hear me out.
I'm coming to the end of my gruelling therapy. During that, I've worked pretty damned hard at rebuilding my understanding of who I am, and sorting out some self confidence for myself. I had always hoped that I'd be able to at least be in the same room as Dad without turning into a quivering wreck - he lives close for one thing, I have siblings and they are not NC, it was likely to come up again that we'd have to meet. What I hoped for, is that I'd be able to hold a conversation with him the way you might with a gardener or somesuch, but no longer being that frightened child, scrabbling for his approval, fearing his anger, and going all out trying to win that praise which will never, ever come.
The reason I called him last week was twofold; one was that I was feeling mellow and strong, so it seemed like a good opportunity to try. The second was simple logistics; I'm nearly at the end of therapy, and I wanted the opportunity to discuss it with my therapist if needs be.
So I called. Annoyingly, it went to voicemail, and by the time he called back, I was tired and slightly emotional.
Still - I think I did well. I managed the conversation. I didn't get nervous and start blurting out things either for a reaction or by accident. He asked how DS was doing at school, and I said 'fine' and changed the subject. He doesn't get to be a part of that. That's my choice, and I put that boundary there.
The interesting (for me) thing was that through the conversation, I could hear the subtext of all he was saying. The first half was 'woe is me!' and the second half was 'I'm brilliant; praise me!' I found it fascinating that I could recognise this and stand firm without falling into the sympathy and praise as I used to.
The conversation confirmed a few things for me to. He is not interested in me whatsoever. It's all show, and it's all for his gain. I haven't spoken to him for a year, and he knows how ill I was last year, and yet, through the whole conversation, he never said 'how are you?'
So there we are. It's all confirmed in my mind; he is a narc, he's not capable of loving me, and you know what? I didn't actually get upset about that. I mean I was slightly sad in a 'wouldn't it be nice if Dad wasn't a Narc' kind of way, but I was passed it in minutes, and what I didn't do was spiral quickly into 'I must be terrible! I am an evil person who must die! There's no point to me at all!'
Basically, despite him, I feel confident about who I am, and I like that person.
I mentioned the conversation to my mother (the enabler) and she too went straight into that role. She feels sorry for him apparently, and he's had a terrible life. I shut that conversation down too, saying that he's not alone there, and at least some of it was his choice. He's the one continuously choosing the pity-party, rather than resolving his issues. I think she was surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed by my coldness, but I don't care about that either. I'm not looking for her approval.
I'm now only looking for mine.
So I just wanted to let you know; I think I'm nearly there.