Whether it comes from years of looking inward, or years of not seeing clearly, I don’t know. Their eyes take on a cloudiness that makes it look like they have a difficult time focusing on the rest of the world. Continue reading →
The World Revolves Around Me
5
Jan 12
The Day She Gave Up On Herself
She hadn’t planned to turn her back on herself. She didn’t wake up one morning and say, “This feels like the right day to put myself aside for this relationship.” Continue reading →
14
Oct 11
A Different Version of Normal
At his address, the toys are neatly put away, the art supplies stay tucked in the cupboard and the towels are folded the minute the dryer buzzes. Continue reading →
10
Oct 11
Why Did I Marry A Narcissist?
As I reached the top of the hill, she approached from the other side.
“Hey, you!” Even though I knew she walked in my neighborhood, we’d never run into each other before.
She said, “Hey, yourself! I never walk this time of the day.”
I said, “I usually try to walk in the morning, but the day got away from me.”
She said, “I didn’t walk this morning because I finished your book.”
*Gulp!*
(Later, when telling a mutual friend of that afternoon’s chance encounter he said, “I suppose you both saw significance in running into each other at the top of the hill.” I laughed and said, “Well, of course we did!”
__________
She is an acquaintance and a published author.
While I wholeheartedly subscribe to the idea that we ought not write to please mom, or a partner or whoever we are trying to please at the time, there is something unsettling about having an author read my first book.
I wanted to plug my ears at this point, or at least run back down the hill to avoid hearing what she had to say.
Before I could turn to run she said, “I loved the format! The quotes and pictures round out the whole message. How is it selling?”
*Gulp.*
Then she said, “Your message will find the right people. You explored the healthy side of selfishness – about how many of our difficulties can be linked to our not taking care of self – putting ourselves last. You showed how that balance is necessary. There’s a lot written about that right now. It’s a good time for your voice on that subject.”
We spontaneously hugged as a I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her profusely.
__________
As I walked her back to her house, she said, “You know why you ended up with him, don’t you?”
Because I was still riding the high of her kind words – and admittedly not listening - I said, “Huh? Who?”
She said, “The narcissist. Do you know why you ended up with the narcissist?”
My usual answer to this question is, “I ended up with Mark so that my life would be graced by the presence of Will and Jenny.”
What other sane reason could there be?
This time I didn’t offer that explanation. I said, “Why do you think I married a narcissist?”
She said, “Because you needed to learn self-care.”
8
Aug 11
Surviving Nicely – 2
It feels good typing the title of this post.
I hope you like Fritos. We’re also serving lemonade because, well, we have all those lemons. I have to enjoy a little wine on a birthday. Jenny is throwing confetti. Will is tech decking in the background. Continue reading →
17
Jul 11
A Day in the Life of a Narcissist
He said he’d be here at 9:oo a.m.
Then he changed his mind.
He didn’t want to do what the kids wanted to do so he said, “I’m not coming at nine. I don’t want to go where they want to go.” Continue reading →
5
Jul 11
The Narcissist’s Lens
She gets off the phone and sighs and says, “Dad says he’ll go to the park with me for a little bit, but he doesn’t want to stay too long because he gets bored.”
He comes back from riding his bike around the block and says, “How come dad doesn’t ever want to do what we want to do? If he does finally do what we like, he mopes and pouts and tells us he has to get going.”
He shows up at the house with a new baseball mitt for him, and nothing for her.
He sits on the step and pretends to listen to her talk about her imaginary pony until an adult walks up. Once he sees the opportunity a new audience provides, he stands, turns to this new person and tells him tales of mountain bike rides and how many hours he logs at the office. Realizing that he is no longer listening, she looks down and continues drawing her pony.
He tells me that he’d like to call his dad and tell him about how high his ollies are now, but his dad doesn’t listen and act excited. He’s thinking that maybe his dad says that it’s cool that he loves skateboarding, but he can feel that his dad is pretending to care.
They have both told me that they don’t know why they can’t be themselves around their dad. They don’t show him their silly sides or their tired sides, or the side-splitting funny sides because they fear he won’t approve.
It’s exhausting having to be perfect all the time.
It’s no fun pretending to be something you aren’t all the time.
“How come he doesn’t want to love who we really are?”
__________
After the last visit, he turned to me and said, “I think they’d want to spend more time with me if they weren’t missing you while they were with me.”
28
Apr 11
Write It Down
Last week I got a word salad in my inbox. Whether in oral form or written form, I’ve taken to mentally and physically preparing myself before making my way through these salads. If he’s delivering the word salad to me in person, I usually prop myself up against a door frame. Continue reading →
11
Mar 11
“Honey, Your Dad Lacks Empathy”
“Oh, sweetie! You should have seen the darling little eight year old girl who wanted to dance with me at the meeting. She had long curly blond hair, and a big beautiful smile. I know her parents. She came up to me, jumped in my lap and asked me to dance with her. She was a really good dancer, too.” Mark could hardly contain himself when telling Jenny of the story of the little girl who fell in love with him. Continue reading →
9
Mar 11
The Fire Tender
The leather gloves next to the stove, and the fire within, are the only indications of steady use. The wood stove is free of ashes, spent embers, bits of bark and any other signs of use, yet the fire within roars continuously. The glass door is spotless as if perhaps he’d had to replace it yesterday after he’d slammed the door too hard in a fit of anger and frustration. Continue reading →
