Thank you Sakura, Ally, Oneplusone.
For the longest time (I'll be 46 next week) it didn't even cross my mind that I had had a bad childhood. With your help, I realized that a few weeks ago.
I "get it" now! The clarity! This is the truth, my truth:
The way my NPD Middle Sister treats me is only the present trail of the enduring way that I have been treated since childhood by my Mother. I can very well believe that she was one to let me 'cry it out' as an infant because this is what she did in times that I can remember. I was ignored, unloved and invisible. Why would it be any different while I was an infant? Blasted Dr. Spock!! We don't hear too much about him anymore do we?
Thank you for showing me the links to the chain and why each phase, circumstance, etc is valid and I am not making it up or being too 'sensitive' or too selfish to be strong for myself to stand up to it, recognize it (thus stop denying it-'they did the best they could'-I am SURE I've written that in a previous post) and be angry about it, and grieve how I should have been treated but wasn't.
I can now see why sometimes I feel childish for the way I feel. One, I wasn't allowed or recognized to have feelings as a child and it is safe for them to come out now; and two, NPD people want to keep me in the diminished posture. My feelings are not childish-even if I were a child now, the feelings are justified and valid. Children's feelings are valid and adult feelings are valid.
I am now thankful (edited a word I'm not quite ready to use there ) that Mother was not around when my children were born ('92 & '94). I followed my instincts and never let my babies cry-I always got to them as soon as I could to hold them-even if it meant sleeping with my infant on my chest on the sofa which I did many a night.
_
I didn't think I had self-harmed. Think again: I used to bite my fingernails and hangnails-all ten- to the quick, drawing blood, for years. I finally stopped when I convinced myself that I'd eventually do nerve damage and lose feeling in my fingers! Physical pain to manifest the emotional pain, right? Picked scabs, too.
I remember in school, ALWAYS walking with my head down, looking at the floor 3 or 4 feet in front of me.
I used to wonder why I so identified with movie characters The Phantom of the Opera, or The Man Without a Face. His scars showed, mine did not. Then to diminish myself (as trained) I came to believe that by a certain age, everyone had scars, some just showed more than others. That one (denial mechanism) got me through the last 3 or 4 years.
I came to believe my role in life was a support position, only. I was one of the stage crew that dressed all in black and did my work silently in the dark between Acts of a play. There was evidence that I was there, but I was never identified, recognized, or credited. Invisible. The past few years has been much better with DH because he has made more effort to simply say 'How am I doing?' and he does give credit to me that dc have turned out well (so far-knock on wood). BTW, that somehow makes me uncomfortable, but I'll think on that later.
I am jumping the abyss and landing safely on the other side! I am doing it! Also, I am calling this my Dorothy moment, from the Wizard of Oz and other Narcissists book- the power to do this is within me.
Thank you again for your support.