I’ve recently read two interesting memoirs about mind bogglingly horrific parents who were both malignant narcissists and bat shit crazy. Despite horrible, abusive behavior, the two children who wrote their memoirs spent a good part of their adult lives trying… Read More ›
I was both the emotional and intellectual center of my family. I was also the middle child and the communicator. Everybody talked to me which is WHY I knew everything while everyone told me to never tell anyone about what… Read More ›
JJ’s Night Out, by Rich Paschall Jason was pacing the floor of the living room. He was excited about his date night. They were going to a new nightclub. It had received nice reviews and he thought they could do… Read More ›
A NO H8 story by Rich Paschall – Sunday Night Blog The door bell startled Howard. He was not expecting anyone on a snowy Saturday afternoon in January. He moved quickly to the front door and opened it to find… Read More ›
My mother’s first husband died when she was 29 years old. She had just gone back to college to get her degree. Years earlier, she had to leave college in her second year, due to illness. She ended up getting… Read More ›
My father hated change. My mother loved to redecorate. What could possibly go wrong? There were lots of fights about decorating in my house growing up. Constantly. My mother won, but it could get surprisingly unpleasant before then – not… Read More ›
I had an unusual childhood. Growing up, my parents were upper middle class professionals in New York City. Things were probably done differently in that milieu than elsewhere in the country at the time. In those days, household help was… Read More ›
I found out late in life, in my 50’s, that my mother was a serious narcissist. As with many narcissists, she got worse as she got older. Her illness escalated dramatically after the death of my father, in 1981, and… Read More ›
Growing up, my parents lied to me about a lot of things. To ‘protect’ me. The biggest lie was about my parents’ ages. They knocked almost twenty years off my father’s age and a few from my mom’s for good… Read More ›
I grew up the middle child of three and I was known as “the communicator.” My brother was four years older than me. My sister was five years younger. My brother passed away more than a decade ago and my… Read More ›
OVERCOMING CHILDHOOD ISN’T ALWAYS ABOUT NICENESS AND OBEDIENCE So I found this question on Facebook and it brought back a deluge of memories. Hey moms, I’m in desperate need of help. I’m at my wit’s end with my lovely little… Read More ›
My father, Abram Kardiner, was a well-known, well-respected psychoanalyst and anthropologist. He wrote many books, founded professional training programs and taught as a professor. But his real love was music. Listening to it, playing it, studying it. My dad loved… Read More ›
