Moving On « Surviving Narcissism

Moving On

Homeschooling and Wasbands

Do you remember the classic “Far Side” cartoon by Gary Larson that has the funky woman talking a blue streak to her dog, and it shows what the dog hears? The dog only hears, “blah blah blah blah, Ginger. blah blah blah blah, Ginger.” It’s 2:30 and I can’t sleep. I got up to write and was greeted by a 1500 word email that was written by Mark.

__________

At the risk of further cementing my membership in the loosely knit Association of Homeschooling Weirdos, I have to tell you what I most love about this homeschooling business. There is nothing quite like being there when they first grasp a concept. I get to be there when that light bulb goes off, and they understand what’s in front of them, and they are filled with pride and possibility. It’s like the looks on their faces when they learn to tie their shoes or ride a bike. It’s something I don’t want to miss.

A few weeks ago, I was helping Will with fractions. I love math. I love the fluidity and fuzzy boundaries of dealing with people and relationships. But when I’m in over my head with that relationship crap, I like to turn to something certain, like math. Even Will says he likes math because, “There’s one right answer.” Sometimes it’s nice to know there is ONE right answer. So we were adding different fractions with different denominators and I was explaining that you have to “get the fractions speaking in the same language – in the same denominator.” I have a decent understanding of what their learning styles are, and what approaches work best for helping them learn. But, I was having a bit of a struggle with the fractions. I put my pencil down, walked out into the living room to take a deep breath, and figure out a new approach, and I came back with a new angle. Suddenly the light bulb went off, and he whizzed through the rest of the exercise. It was fun for both of us. We found a common language, and it was a thing of beauty.

NEWS FLASH: There is NO common language with a narcissist. Continue reading →

Moving On / Quotes — 2 Comments
29
Mar 10

Speaking of Definitions

The definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Albert Einstein

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / Moving On — 11 Comments
29
Mar 10

Lizard Brain Be Damned!

Last week when we were struggling, Pat sent me some timely reminders, which points to the fact that this blog is becoming a communal effort. I hope others are benefiting as much as the three of us.

The first is actually from a link on my site.

…do not expect them (narcissists) to show the slightest interest in you or your life (or even in why you’re bothering with them at all), do not expect them to be able to do anything that you need or want, do not expect them to apologize or make amends or show any consideration for your feelings…

I don’t think I’ve written a single post that demonstrates Mark’s interest in the kids. It’s pretty clear that he expects them to be a source for his narcissism, and so he’ll feign interest to secure that source. But that interest isn’t genuine, and is subject to withdrawal should the kids fail to meet his standards or stop providing the consistent source that he needs. At one point, when I was still trying to facilitate the kids’ relationship with Mark, he reminded me that, “He just doesn’t like to be around people that don’t like him.” None of us is comfortable hanging where we feel we aren’t liked. He just requires a greater deal of liking than the rest of us. He requires that we like him above all other things. And he won’t stick around unless he feels he’s liked more than anything else.

Incidentally, the kids haven’t heard from Mark since the fabulous skiing episode. Apparently they didn’t like him enough after that adventure. And as I write this, they are both putzing around the house singing, “Busy Being Fabulous“, by the Eagles. I don’t make this stuff up. I swear. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / Moving On — 11 Comments
28
Mar 10

The Mom as Dad

“What’s it like to have a good dad?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.”

“How is it being the mom and the dad?” It sucks.

I can’t throw a football with a decent spiral. I don’t know the first thing about bow hunting. I just don’t understand why burping and farting is always funny. I could learn these things. I could practice and be a mom that throws an amazing spiral, but my plate is full. I want to be a wonderful mom, but dammit, I don’t want to be a wonderful dad. And I can’t be. It’s not the same. I don’t know if a boy even wants to brag about his mom being able to drive a golf ball 275 yards. Not that I can.

The morning after the fabulous ski day with their dad, the kids were working on a fun collaboration where they were filming each other as they told about their dreams. As luck (?) would have it, the night of the skiing incident, Jenny dreamt that John was her dad. He taught her magic tricks and told her exciting stories, and listened as she talked about whatever popped into her head. So Will was filming her as she gave the details of a bizarre adventure that included the three of us and John in some old, resort-like house with lots of hiding places. The house was inhabited by these little gnome people that were made out of clay and they spent their days making wooden furniture. She included enough details to make me think that I ought to phone Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.

In the middle of having her dream talk filmed, she burst into tears. I figured maybe Will had done something to piss her off. (They spend a great deal of time together.) She came to sit on my lap and told me, through big streaming tears, “I just want a good dad.”

So the three of us sat and talked about what a good dad is, and here is their list. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On / Recipes — 3 Comments
22
Mar 10

On Pancakes and Love

blueberry-pancakes We eat a lot of pancakes around here, and I never make any of them. I’m decent in the kitchen, but I’ve never been good at breakfast. I do make great toast. Will has been making pancakes since we moved to this house. First, he started with Bisquick, then it was Krusteaz and then some kind of fancy, healthy buckwheat mix, and now he makes pancakes from scratch.

From the beginning, I figured that he couldn’t do a lot of damage, so I didn’t give him many tips, other than, “Don’t burn yourself.” He likes the fact that he handles the whole project from start to finish. I ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ a lot. I talk about how the caramelization on this batch is perfect. Mostly, I give him strokes, eat a couple pancakes, and clean up the mess. Jenny doesn’t like pancakes. Every time he makes a batch, Will asks Jen if she’d like one. She always politely declines. I like that Will always offers. I like that Jen politely declines. He isn’t bummed that she doesn’t want any; she doesn’t feel like she has to have one.

And because absolutely everything reminds me of relationships, I got to thinking about how Will’s pursuit of the perfect pancake is a lot like the work involved in a healthy relationship. I realize that, given my track record, I may know absolutely nothing about healthy relationships. With my complete lack of credibility in the relationship department, you may want to scroll down to the bottom for Will’s pancake recipe.

Bisquick makes a decent pancake. It’s quick and easy and it fills you up. Krusteaz may have a little more flavor. They are just as simple to make, so since they have more flavor, they seem like the logical choice. The buckwheat mix is a little harder to find, but they don’t require a lot more work, and they are healthier to eat. Throughout the experimentation with these different pancake mixes, Will has learned the constants. The batter shouldn’t be too thin nor too thick. The pan has to be hot. Butter the pan a bit before pouring in the batter. Wait until the bubbles start popping before you flip the cake. All of these constants apply to each type of mix.

After mastering these pre-made pancake mixes, he was ready for the big leagues. He asked if he could find a recipe and make some from scratch. He’d already learned that the wet things are added to the combined dry things. He just needed a listing of what those wet and dry things were. He’s been making scratch pancakes for over a year now. We all marvel at how much better the from-scratch pancakes are. They are more moist and tender. They have this delicate sweetness and a nice crust. There is an amazing difference, and we’re only talking pancakes here. The scratch cakes make you want to have more than one. Continue reading →

Moving On — 2 Comments
19
Mar 10

Good Signs

peely-paint “When the moon hits your eye
Like a big-a pizza pie
That’s amore.”

Sung by a gray plastic, full moon face with lips that moved. Will had been given this as a gift. I believe the singing moon was some sort of yard decoration. When Will was four, he really got a kick out of that annoying thing. At one point, I had covered the sound holes with duct tape.

I put up with loud, obnoxious toys if those toys buy me 15 minutes to write an email, brush my teeth and go to the bathroom.

I think that moon sang for the last time at the city dump. Will had given me permission to get rid of it.

When I first saw this little house that we call home, I knew it was perfect. I had walked by it several times and assumed it was too small for the three of us, but the realtor talked me into taking a look. Continue reading →

Moving On — Comments Off
18
Mar 10

Follow The Signs – Sometimes

I’d like to be able to tell you that I start my day with yoga, mediation, a run, or some other healthy thing. I don’t. I start my day by putting some water to boil on the stove, and then slouching in front of the laptop/big screen combo (the screen on my laptop died), and reading from all my favorite sites for inspiration and entertainment. I recently signed-up on Twitter, which I made fun of forever, and am thoroughly enjoying. Last night I read a piece where Havi Brooks described Twitter as a bar (think Cheers) where you hang with like-minded buddies, swap stories, and stay for as long or as little as you like. For a single mom, who is babysitter-averse, this is the next best thing to going to the bar for social time, and the drinks are way cheaper. Plus, I don’t like being a single person at a bar. Call me a chicken, go ahead.

By noon, yesterday, I already knew what today’s post would be. I love this writing so much. Sometimes I feel like ideas are wrestling each other in my mind. I find I have to coach them a bit on who gets to come out first, and how long they get to play. Often, I have to kick them off the mat before they are done, for fear I’ll bore you. (Thanks for reading, by the way.)

Yesterday I’d written about how I was pretty sure that my dad didn’t like me when I was growing up. That’s not a painful or difficult topic for me. I’ve dealt with it all my life. It’s just a statement of fact. Here’s where it gets interesting – at least to me. Not long after I’d finished my post, I returned a call to my uncle. My 30 year high school reunion is this summer (gag) and my uncle is helping an acquaintance of mine (from high school) track down classmates. My uncle wanted me to refer to my 1980 annual. So with cordless cradled against my shoulder, I’m standing in front of my closet, lifting these sort of antique-ish tin(?) cans up to access the yearbook. I can’t find the guy my uncle is talking about in the 1980 book, so I go back to dig for the ’79 annual. Now, I’m feeling like I’m holding up my uncle, I’m getting impatient with myself, I’m trying to lift the cans to get at the next, heavy book, and the bottom tin can falls. It’s shaped like a big cookie tin. My mom gave it to me probably three years ago. I remember looking in it when she gave it to me. I haven’t looked in it since. When the can hits the closet floor, the lid pops off and spills this loose desiccant stuff and rose petals and flower stems all over the closet floor. It’s in my shoes, sprinkled over the shoulders of my shirts and other weird clothing items. It’s in the grooves of the sliding doors of the closet.

The transitive property is one of the few things I remember from Algebra. I don’t know why that stuck in my head. If a=b, and b=c, then a=c. There are a lot of instances in life where I think to myself, “Hm… that’s just like the transitive property.” Although more times than not, the transitive property fails me. I like Susan. Susan like’s watching basketball games. I don’t like/can’t stand basketball. Yes, the transitive property applies to the tin can. See, my mom had placed some sentimental value on the contents of the tin can. I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t quite remember where the flowers came from, but I have a crumpled manila folder with info (in my brain’s over-stuffed filing cabinet) about my folks, that contains a slip of paper with my mom’s handwriting that says, “These were the flowers I carried when I married your dad.” I think. It seems like that should be a big deal to me, doesn’t it? But that’s where transitive property always fails me. My mom is important to me. X is important to my mom. Therefore, X should be important to me. And it has never been that way. I just don’t think that the transitive property can apply to sentimental objects. Or else, and this is very likely, I skipped class the day they were handing out the sentimental genes. But I know I was in class that day, because I am quite mushy about the things that I deem worthy of sentimentality.

So I see the scattered rose petals on my Keens, on my flip flops, and the desiccant sprinkled over everything, and I can’t be sad. Well, mostly, I had to finish the conversation with my uncle, but I couldn’t even make myself sad after ending the call. It just wasn’t there. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On — 2 Comments
16
Mar 10

More Lemonade

“Hey, Big Brother, do ya need to use the potty so you don’t have an accident? I’m sure mom could run out and get some diapers that’d fit ya.” Jen and I have been having a grand time teasing Will about whether he’s actually potty trained or not.

I don’t know if my kids are developing thick skins or wicked senses of humor — probably both. They’re also learning to read moods. Jenny was careful to let the dust settle on Will’s story – about his dad asking him if he needed to use the bathroom at the ski hill. There is a narrow window, right after the telling of the story, where hurt feelings have to be acknowledged. Jen and I made a point of telling Will that we imagined how mortified he must have been. We allowed him enough time to kick rocks and say a few choice words. But after that, it’s no holds barred. We dish it out like crazy, make light of the situation, and have a bunch of good laughs, with Will laughing right along with us. I’ve said before that if we don’t laugh at the weirdness of this narcissism, we’ll be spending way too much time with upset stomachs.

As Paulo Coelho says, “ If someone hurts you, react. Forgiveness comes afterwards.” I have to think that humor has to come before forgiveness. Actually it’s probably something more like this:

get hurt
react
swear a lot
eat junk food
laugh
put forgiveness on the calendar

My kids tip-toed around me for a few days after the whole John thing. I’m making fun of myself, now, so they see that they can lighten up, too. I informed them that, “I am pretty fabulous. It’s just that I haven’t found anyone else who believes me.” They both jumped to my defense and said, “Well, we think you’re fabulous!” And then all the ‘excepts’ started. “You’re fab except for when you yell at us. Except for when you make me eat that stir-fry stuff. Except for when you don’t let us watch too much T.V.” And on and on. When they come up with more ‘excepts’, I remind them that we’ll be cruising in May. I’m going to get as much mileage out of that cruise as I possibly can.
Continue reading →

Lack of Empathy / Moving On / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 13 Comments
14
Mar 10

Discarded By A Narcissist

This is a difficult post to write because it brings back so many feelings of inadequacy. Phyllis sent the following comment, and I feel compelled to respond in this post.

“My husband emailed me last night. He is planning to start the divorce after finishing the 2009 taxes. He still “loves me.” Yeah right!”

This comment clearly illustrates the confusing nature of a relationship with a narcissist. In one breath he says, “I’m filing for a divorce.” In the next breath, hell in the same breath, he says, “I love you.”

Huh?

This only makes sense to a narcissist. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On — 5 Comments
14
Mar 10

Jenny As Dr. Phil

“So how are you? Really.” The three of us went for coffee and biscotti at my aunt and uncle’s a couple days ago. They had been out of town when things came to an end with John. She wanted an update. After I gave her the nutshell version, I had a question that I was apprehensive about asking. I wanted to know if my wanting to sometimes be a priority in a relationship made me a narcissist. I can trust her to be honest with me. She didn’t even hesitate and said, “I know that you understand that it is a balance. Once in awhile, you are the priority, and then it will be his turn to be the priority. But yes, you deserve to occasionally be the focus, and that doesn’t make you a narcissist.” Whew! And because I liked her answer, I will assume that she is right.

I explained that I have always felt like I hold up residence on the back burner in relationships. Jenny was partially listening in on this conversation. She jumped down from her chair, came over to me and intently looked at me with her big blue eyes. We were nose to nose and she said, “Mom! You should be the noodles, and he should be the water, and you should both be in the same pot on the front burner.”

Moving On / Recipes — 8 Comments
12
Mar 10

Survivor Chocolate

lucky-number-4 So it’s one o’clock in the morning and I am sitting in front of my laptop, in my cat hair covered robe, with an Ocean Breeze scented candle burning, eating the best fudgy brownie cookies I’ve ever tasted.

I’m not really a scented candle person. I get tired of the same smell by the time the candle burns down. But, I’m on a very tight budget, and I wanted something, in addition to coffee and chocolate, to cheer me up. So we went to Pier 1 and I picked out some candles – Ocean Breeze, Patchouli (to remind me of my college days), Asian something or other, Vanilla and yada yada, and one other. I picture these folks in lab coats, in some white room full of beakers over burners with little flames mixing scents and one of them actually thinks they have put together the right chemicals to smell like an Ocean Breeze? I also bought this little round ceramic ball with my lucky number on it. It can’t hurt. Between the candles and the number four, and my cooperation with the rest of the universe, I’m sure to get my train headed in the right direction again. Maybe.

Jenny came in my bed again and then, as usual, I couldn’t get back to sleep. My head fills with thoughts of John. How is it that some people (mostly men) are so good at turning their brains off? I try to make myself think of things that I don’t like about him, but since that’s fruitless, I switched to thinking about Phyllis and Annie and this blog. Phyllis sent a comment that I want to write about, so I figured now is as good a time as any. Only I came out to write about her comment, and grabbed a cookie, and after one bite, I forgot what I was going to write, so I’ll share this recipe with you all instead. I changed the name of these cookies. Will was craving some kind of dark, fudgy brownie/cookie combo (he’s his mother’s son) and we discovered this recipe and tweaked it a bit. I’m calling them Survivor Crownies because we all deserve a crown for surviving, and because the ‘c’ is for cookies and the ‘rownies’ is for …. Nevermind. I think you get it.

Survivor Crownies

2/3 C butter – softened
1 1/2 C brown sugar – packed (have you ever come across a recipe where the brown sugar isn’t packed?)
1 T vanilla – it seems like a lot, but it’s right
2 eggs – room temperature
1 1/2 C flour
1/3 C cocoa powder
1/2 t salt
1/4 t soda
1 1/2 C semi-sweet chocolate chips

Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On — 3 Comments
11
Mar 10

Lemonade, Rocks and Books

rock-sale So now what? I know how I got into these relationships. I know what to do differently once I’m in one. I am learning new things about myself; what I want; what I don’t want, and what I will compromise on. I know the sweetness of the good parts, and I know the sour of the parts I won’t live with.

It’s time to come down from the roof. I can’t spend my whole day drinking coffee, no matter how good it is. (Although, it’s good to allow myself a couple days of spoiling, reflection, whimpering and chocolate.)

Got an email from a girlfriend last night. (Thanks, Kath — seriously.) She said, “Go out to dinner with the outdoorsy guy. What have you got to lose? You gotta keep the door open.” Yuk. I’m just fine with the door closed for now. And I’m not missing the emotional roller coaster one bit. (Guess she didn’t read the post about how much I don’t like shopping.) Even if I do drive a car with a stick, I’ve no desire to shift gears that quickly.

Jenny set up this cute little rock selling stand a couple days ago and it got me thinking. We are going to make lemonade from the lemons, sell the rocks from our shoes, and I’m going to seriously work on the book. And for the day-to-day survival, we are going to schedule a whole bunch of things to look forward to, otherwise known as distractions. Here’s my plan.

Yesterday I booked the cruise for the second week of May. I’m lousy at keeping secrets, so I told the kids even before I booked it. Hell, by now I’ve figured out that the best part of any vacation is the anticipation of it, so now we can have fun anticipating together.
Next week we will plant Sweet Pea seeds, prepare for the arrival of Larry the Leprechaun, and attend the Best Little Western Art Show in the World.
Ski season is winding down, so we’ll hit the slopes a few more times.
The kids and I will finish “The Great Tree of Avalon – Shadows On the Stars”. This fun book includes wonderful lessons about karma, tenacity, the struggle for good over evil, and a lot of humor, even if it’s a bit violent at times.
I’m going to enjoy reading “The Girls from Ames”, “Do One Thing Different”, and “Marriage and Other Acts of Charity”. Never have been able to just read one book all the way through (unless it’s an Elizabeth Berg) because my mood changes from the time I wake until the time I hit the pillow again.
We are still deciding on a dog. At this point, we’ll fall in love after the cruise.
Kids are signed up for some art lessons.
I am working on the book.
Golf season overlaps with ski season. I have new divots in the front yard before the grass has had a chance to green up.
And just yesterday, Jenny learned to ride a two-wheeler, so that opens up a whole summer of riding bikes along the river.

Continue reading →

Moving On / Quotes — Comments Off
10
Mar 10

Understanding Ourselves

Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.

Carl Jung

Moving On — Comments Off
10
Mar 10

Karma and Irony

My recipe for moving on includes a healthy dose of humor. It has to. Humor got me through, and out of, my relationship with Mark. Humor will do the same for me now. I have to share a funny observation with you.

During this time period, where I had all my hopes pinned on John, there have been a few other fellows who have tried to throw their hat in the ring. They are nice guys. One keeps calling and wants to take me out to dinner and has enthusiastically invited my kids. I saw him recently, when Jen and Will were in tow, and he said, “Hey, kids! How are you? What’s new?” He tries. He might want to try to remember their names next time. He’s funny, creative and outdoorsy.

Another has started writing letters. He is another long distance fellow. The red flags are obvious. I’m not cut out for the long distance stuff. This fellow is sensitive, thoughtful, smart, introspective, interesting and asks me about myself and my life. He doesn’t shy away from talking about kids and shares his own experiences with raising kids. We write back and forth without the pressure of worrying about whether we are liked by the other, or not. That really frees a person up to write whatever they feel or think.

I met another fellow through work. We have similar creative interests, speak the same language about work related stuff and communicate very easily. I remember in one of those conversations, he got sidetracked and asked me about how or when I decided to leave Mark. I felt the strangest sensation when he asked the question. I got the impression that when he asked, he really wanted to hear my answer. He wasn’t just making conversation. I think that must be what it feels like when someone really listens to you.

And the other fellow is someone I’ve known for awhile. We swap stories about kids, skiing, work and life. He’s a pleasant fellow – sensitive, thoughtful, considerate, funny, smart. We have a lot of things in common. Continue reading →

Moving On / Quotes — Comments Off
9
Mar 10