Did it close a chapter when my narcissistic mother died? No, it got worse!
I thought her death would set me free
When my narcissistic mother died, I assumed I’d feel relief, closure, and freedom.
That her final breath would be the final blow and I’d finally be allowed to move on.
And for a moment, it felt that way.
I watched her die from 1,000 miles away through a hospital room camera feed.
When she took her last breath, my body softened in a way it never had before.
It felt like my cells, my lungs, my nervous system all finally exhaled for the first time in over five decades.
The woman who tormented me was gone.
But about a week later, something strange and terrifying happened.
A new chapter I wasn’t prepared for
Instead of closure, her death opened something even more difficult that I wasn’t ready for.
I became panicked and terrified because I began to believe she could attack me in her omnipresent spirit form.
As if she could still manipulate me, punish me, reach into my life and rearrange my safety easily from the other side.
I felt like she had more access than ever before and was even more dangerous now that she was in spirit form.
This is the part no one talks about.
Everyone tells you that once she dies, it’s over. But it wasn’t over.
It was just beginning.
Welcome to The Hollow Passage
What I entered next is what I now call The Hollow Passage.
This is the stretch of time after a narcissistic mother dies when your mind knows she’s gone, but your body hasn’t caught up and you feel like she’s more dangerous than ever because she has easy access to you.
Even though there were no more physical threats of harm, no more glares, no more slamming drawers, no more of that crappy treatment—your internal alarms keep blaring like she’s right outside the door getting ready to evaporate through it just like a ghost.
You wonder if you’re actually free or if her reach somehow extends beyond death.
I lived in The Hollow Passage for years and during that time everything I’d buried for 53 years and gaslit myself about came clawing to the surface.
Questions. Memories. Patterns. Betrayals. Pain. Anguish. Confusion.
The things I didn’t let myself face while she was alive and the things I couldn’t afford to feel all relentlessly came for me.
Surviving the aftershock
I wasn’t thriving.
I wasn’t healing.
I was barely surviving the aftershock of her absence while trying to stay functional inside my family and daily life. It was nearly impossible.
I had never felt so hollow, so numb, so pained, so emotionally empty—yet so full of noise I couldn’t turn down or turn off.
No one understood what I was going through.
Even though my husband is very supportive, I felt alone and bled dry.
My therapist was kind and supportive as she calmly validated the abuse, helped me recognize the patterns, and told me I suffered, “chronic egregious abuse at the hands of your mother.”
She assured me that my mother’s spirit could not hurt me.
But she couldn’t answer the burning questions that kept getting louder in my mind:
Why was my mother the way she was?
Why did she feed off my suffering?
Why did she twist everything I said?
Why did she explode out of nowhere?
Why did it seem like she thrived when I was in pain?
So I asked her spirit directly
Those questions wouldn’t leave me alone.
They were so persistent, so loud, so necessary that I eventually did something radical.
I entered into a $10,000, six-month contract with a professional psychic medium to channel my mother’s spirit.
Not once. Not briefly. But repeatedly.
The sessions were painfully deep and draining.
What happened in those channeling sessions is beyond description.
She answered me. Every hard question.
Every brutal, haunting question I had (even the ones that made me cry while asking).
She confessed to things I never thought she’d admit.
She explained things I never would’ve understood on my own.
It didn’t erase the pain or excuse the abuse.
But it did give me an opportunity to understand and it enabled me to stop carrying the weight of not knowing why.
We also channeled my deceased father’s spirit, Jeshua ben Joseph, The Divine Feminine, my spirit guides, and my soul—every channeling session was about maternal narcissistic abuse.
This was a major source of my healing.
The answers didn’t come from therapy. They came from her spirit.
No therapist, no book, no website, no social media content, no human on this planet could tell me why my mother hurt me the way she did and why she really was the way she was.
But when I finally asked her spirit the really hard questions—that’s when I got the answers I needed.
And what she said changed everything for me!
Her spirit’s words gave me what nothing else ever could: the truth, clarity, and closure.
The kind that doesn’t erase the past or excuse the abuse—but alchemizes it into healing.
The Conversations We Never Had is not a metaphor.
It’s real. It’s raw. It became the missing piece in my healing. And it’s the reason I’m finally free.
👉 Take a look inside The Conversations We Never Had.
👉 See the six spirit voices that changed everything and a summary of what they said.