Good Morning

One of my posts recently was about my bedtime routine. Of overcoming physical pain in order to get to sleep.

On the weekend I managed to open up a bit about my morning routine. A lot of things highlighted about parentification of children in a narcissistic household.  I say household as the word family isn't really accurate.

So here is the routine.  Remember I wasn't an adult. I left this environment when I was 17 years old. This was from around 10 until 17.  If you're remembering back to Mum being up early doing things for you then I'm genuinely happy for you.

Alarm clock goes off - 6am every day, but not really sure why I bothered as I always woke up before it.  This way I could get in the shower without risking anyone walking in. There was no privacy in the shower because apparently it was normal to have a chat. I didn't feel normal when that happened.  Comments about how big her waist was at that age always seemed to come out to reinforce my feelings of insecurity about my weight.

Get dressed very quickly. I actually used to time myself!  I could get knickers, bra, stockings (private school dress code) and dress on in 30 seconds. Shoes had to be tied up so that would nudge it out of course, but at least my body was covered. Winter uniform was harder because it meant buttoning shirts, doing ties, and pinafores. My clothes were always ready the night before to prep for this. I still have my underwear and jewellery in the bathroom ready for me in the morning so I feel organised to this day.

Then hit the kitchen to prepare lunch to take to school, and if the parent was going to be working through that timeline then I would prepare that too.  Usually something that I wouldn't want to eat myself so that it would reinforce that feeling of doing a job rather than a favour. Breakfast was next. Very specific breakfasts, coffee and all to be on the table. This was a self-protection so that I knew I could get out the door to school at the proper time. 

Finally the bit I dreaded, the waking up of the parent so that the very few needs I had of them could be met. Essentially driving me to school, which I didn't really need but was forced to accept that level of control. The bus was in the next street, it was easy and it was enjoyable. But, the car ride was mandatory.

I admit I was probably harsher in this part of the day than I could have been.  There was an element of control, and possibly even revenge. Pull open the curtain, pull back the doona and a loud good morning was my routine.  I'm not sure if that makes me a bad person, a rebellious teen, or just someone who wanted to trade places and be normal having my parent wake me up!  In any event it appeared to be the only way to wake someone from their drug induced sleep.

I think it stems from earlier memories but the sight of someone in a night dress made me physically repulsed.  It does to this day. I see that style of clothing in shops and I physically cringe. Even at my biggest size I refused to ever buy that kind of thing.  

As often as I was asked to sit at the table and keep her company while she ate, I seemed to ensure that I always had something that needed doing in my room. Last minute homework, anything that would distract me. Then head out the door to school.  

In Primary School the alienation continued when I was collected to be driven home for lunch, driven back again, then collected later.  No chance to socialise or build networks.

That morning routine doesn't sound horrible to many, but remember this is parentification.  A child, even a teen should have their parent tend to their needs in the mornings, to feel cared for, to feel loved, to feel they can depend on that person. It's how security is built, and it's opportunities to teach life skills.  As a parent myself, each one had a morning job to do - feed the cats, dogs, unpack the dishwasher, collect dirty laundry. It wasn't because I needed them to, it was because it was teaching them routines, skills and giving them a sense of achievement.  As they got older, those jobs extended and became more self care. I always ironed their school clothes, but not their work clothes as that was again part of them learning skills.

I wasn't learning life skills, I wasn't even the carer, I was the victim.  My language is changing with regard to this. I was at that age the victim, but not now.  I'm learning that I can leave those events in the past, and I that my feelings and memories are valid. 

I'm happy I'm learning these things.