When Your Narcissistic Parent Dies

One year ago today my father passed away.  It’s been quite a year to say the least.  It’s also been a real learning experience.

When my narcissistic grandmother died in 2001, I gained a pretty good idea of what it’d be like to lose a narcissistic parent.  When she died, I felt such a relief that the abuse was finally truly over, & the normal guilt that comes with that feeling.  I went through a lot of anger & sadness things were as they were with her.  I was prepared for that when my father died.  I was NOT prepared for other things.

I was woefully unprepared for the constant inundation of attacks from flying monkeys who thought I should go see him & the incredibly cruel & stupid things they had to say in an attempt to force me to do their will.  I also was unprepared for their dogged determination to get around all the blocks I had in place (on social media, blocking emails, phone numbers, etc).  When they continued their harassment, I was stunned & frustrated that I couldn’t seem to get rid of these monsters no matter what I did.

I also didn’t expect to end up in a state of shock that lasted for months because of the flying monkeys, or that the shock would prevent me from experiencing any grief over losing my father.

I was also unprepared for the incredibly strong & constant need to pray for my father’s salvation at that time.  I’d been praying for him for some time, but his final few weeks, I felt I had to pray often & hard about it & ask friends to pray with me.  Thankfully, God answered those prayers, & I shared that story here: Some Recent Miracles That I Believe Will Encourage You

I also didn’t realize the lack of support that I would have.  Truthfully, I’m only very close to a few people, but I do have a larger group of friends who I’m simply not as close to.  In theory, I should’ve been surrounded by support at that time, but I really wasn’t.  Those closest to me checked on me often, but those who aren’t as close to me didn’t.  Only a couple even offered any sympathy when my father died.  Yet, when my father in-law died last June, many of those same people offered their condolences to my husband, even ones who don’t know or barely know him.  When this happened, it made me mad.  I felt hurt.  Why was his father’s death worthy of sympathy but not mine?!  I finally realized.. it’s because they didn’t know what to say or do.  They weren’t being hateful, it wasn’t that they didn’t care.  They simply didn’t know what to say.  Most people will avoid a situation rather than admit they don’t know what to say.

The reason I’m telling you these things, Dear Reader, is that if you’re facing the death of your narcissistic parent, you may experience similar things to me.  The experiences I mentioned are very common among adult children of narcissistic parents.  You need to be prepared for these things as best you can be.

I wrote a book about my experiences entitled, “When A Narcissistic Parent Dies”.  If you’re interested, it’s available on my website at www.CynthiaBaileyRug.com 


Filed under Christian Topics and Prayers, Mental Health, Narcissism

8 responses to “When Your Narcissistic Parent Dies

  1. You really were put through the proverbial wringer when your father died, Cynthia. I’m sorry that you had to endure that on top of all that they’d already done to hurt you. It’s so sad that, for survivors of narcissistic abuse, the death of our abusive parent is likely to result in a fresh round of suffering. If I don’t see my mother before she dies or attend her funeral I’ll be reviled by all of those who don’t know the truth about how she hurt me or simply don’t care. And if I do go her enablers will cause an embarrassing scene. That will be my inheritance and my mothers legacy. I know it’s coming and that, short of moving to the other side of the world, there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel trapped. And it makes me so angry that she’ll be able to continue to hurt me from the grave.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I really was put through the wringer, Suzanne. Looking back, it still astounds me what all happened. & it wasn’t even just me- my favorite cousin was as well because he wouldn’t join in on the bullying or give the bullies my contact information so they could bully me further. That really infuriates me too- leave him out of it. This was between us, yanno? Yes, he can take care of himself but that’s not the point.

      Exactly… there is no good solution when a narcissistic parent dies for the child of a narcissist. All you can do is pray & let God lead you down the least wrong path since there isn’t a right path. Utterly ridiculous as that is. The best I can tell you is listen to His voice & block every single access point the flying monkeys have to you. They’ll find ways around it so block those too asap & don’t read their toxicity. Just save it for evidence in case you need it.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. My heart goes out to you, Cynthia. I know how painful anniversary days can be.

    When my abusive father died unexpectedly of a heart attack in 1988 at the age of 53, the onslaught of emotions almost destroyed me. I knew nothing about narcissism at the time, and I had clung to the belief that my dad and I would someday reconcile. But suddenly that was no longer possible and I did not know how to handle that.

    My dad and I had been no contact for 8 1/2 years at the time of his death. There were no visits, no letters, and no phone calls during that time. This was before I knew the term “no contact,” of course. I was just so tired of always being the one to reach out to him, only to be verbally abused, or told by a family member about hateful things he was saying about me, so I had stopped reaching out.

    In recent years, I have had DNA testing done through ancestry and 23andMe, and my dad’s distinctive races aren’t there. So for this and other reasons, I suspect that he wasn’t my biological father. But even so, he was my dad.

    When I was 5 years old, after a big fight with my father, my mom took me to see her old boyfriend and she told him that I was his. He sent us packing almost immediately. I remembered his name and I found his address online and sent him a letter about 3 years ago, saying that I did not want anything at all from him, but I just wondered if it was possible that he might be my biological father. My letter was ignored. However, I did notice that his contact information soon disappeared off the internet.

    A couple of months ago I googled his name, like I did once or twice a year just to see if he was still living, and I found an obituary. He had recently died. So my possible biological father is gone now, too. My feelings, then and now, were mostly numb. He was never a part of my life. He never said one word to me, not even when I was standing right in front of him and my mother told him that I was his child. But still, the feeling that it is forever too late, is not a nice feeling.

    Narcissism, the gift that keeps on giving. The worst narcissist in my life, my mother, is 83 years old now and still a narcissist. At least now I know a big change and reconciliation is not going to happen.

    Be gentle with yourself today, Cynthia. My heart is with you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh wow.. I’m so very sorry Linda. When it seemed like your story couldn’t get sadder, it has. Unreal… I’m so very very sorry for what you’ve experienced. My heart goes out to you, my friend. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      • Dear sweet caring Cynthia, I am so sorry, I did not mean to make this about me and my life. I did not mean to come across as all pitiful and sad. Really I didn’t. My life today is the best that it has ever been by far, and I have so much that I am thankful for. I’m sorry now that I made this about me and my childhood, when this post, and today, is the heartbreaking first anniversary of your father’s death and the memories of all that surrounded his death.

        Augh, I could kick myself right now. I took an antihistamine this morning a couple of hours before I wrote my comment and I believe it affected my judgment. I have always been super sensitive and reactive to medications. Your reply to my comment is so thoughtful, sweet and kind, but darn it, I feel very selfish for writing what I did, today of all days.

        Knowing you, you are going to graciously reply that I didn’t do wrong in writing about my father situation. But I believe that I did. I am going to stop taking the antihistamine med, it does not help my allergies very much, anyway.

        You are so thoughtful and caring. Certainly the opposite of narcissistic! Your situation with your family, your dad dying one year ago, and the circumstances around his death, THAT is truly sad. ((HUG))

        Liked by 1 person

        • You didn’t do wrong, so yea, I’m going there.. lol There really isn’t a need to apologize! Antihistamines do strange things to people sometimes too. My husband was arrested once while on one- it made his so terribly irritable, he wasn’t himself at all. So I truly understand & you’re fine. Not like you’re a self centered jerk who constantly turns things back to you, no matter the topic. If you were, you’d definitely owe me an apology, but you aren’t, so HA. lol

          It is sad.. growing up, I thought we had this big, close, stereotypical Southern family. Once my grandparents died, that all changed. It’s a pity.

          Liked by 2 people

  3. Dorothy Williams

    I had two narcissistic parents!

    My father was sick all the time and wanted his toys. Expensive toys, like a 1937, Rolls Royce he restored and sold. A 1917 air-cooled Franklin he restored. A huge aquarium with expensive tropical fish. Ceramics and an expensive kiln. An expensive lathe. Expensive grandfather clocks and pianos he restored. He was into jewelry design! He bought an expensive flute. He bought a sailboat. He ignored my silent Celiac disease and I suffered for years. My gut is probably destroyed forever. Diagnosed a year ago and I’m 67. I suffered seizures to light, cognitive abilities were severely effected, fatigued and I was bloated all over and looked fat. I needed braces for my teeth but my father would not spend the money. He had to have his toys. My father called me a “misfit!” Both parents ignored my Celiac Disease. It’s in the photos that I am a sick toddler.

    Mom was all about being sexy, the center of attention and talking non-stop. Didn’t have time to raise two children. In the nursing home, she said “you talk too much!” She had a stroke and still wanted to be the center of attraction. I was not taught how to tell time, tie my shoes or to keep myself clean. As I got older, my husband told me she was jealous of my looks. She wanted to be the prettiest. I’m related to Farrah Fawcett and look like her. She couldn’t take it.

    My brother was physically abused by my father. He was sleep walking to get away from my father. My father threw logs on his feet because my father built our home and he had to help. He was physically by my father. He developed manic depression and the abuse came my way. I was abused by my brother. Name calling, jealousy and out and out meanness. He actually said he saw photos of my parents having a foursome. He said it to hurt me. He’s mentally ill. My brother hates my parents and I have no fondness of them either.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s