Moving On

Control / Moving On — 1 Comment
13
Nov 09

When A 15 Minute Trick Doesn’t Cut It

I’ve been around the block a few times — sometimes even stomping my feet while I make the pass.  I know that, in some cases, a few deep breaths, or a glass of water, or a handful of nuts, or a self-imposed time-out just won’t do the trick.  Hell, I’ve even chugged the glass of water, grabbed the handful of nuts, marched outside, and come storming back in to start scrubbing the floor.  By then, I’ve gone way beyond the 15 minutes, and it’s still not working.

This is when I get serious.  This will sound like a contradiction to the 15 Minute Tricks, but it’s necessary to get inside my head for this approach.  I force myself to sort through all the tangled thoughts that are swimming around in my brain.

An aside …  One day I’m getting my haircut by this gal that I love who runs a beauty shop with her sister.  They are chatting about this book that one of them is reading.  It has something to do with “Women are Spaghetti and Men are Waffles.”  How can you not enjoy an analogy like that?  Besides, I absolutely adore spaghetti.  I guess the premise is that women have every thought they’ve ever had wrapped around every other thought they’ve ever had.  And all those thoughts are standing at the ready to wrap around any new or potential thoughts.  Men compartmentalize their thoughts into neat little boxes, like the sections of a waffle.  I’ve got to get that book.  Anyway, I find that I’ve been enjoying thinking of female brains as plates of spaghetti, and male brains as a bunch of boxes with lids.  (I don’t really like waffles.  And I admire a guy’s ability to put a topic or thought into a box, put a lid on it, and return to it later.  Sometimes they decide they don’t like, never have liked, that thought, and they never go back.  I wish I could do that.)

So I’m going with the plate-of-spaghetti analogy.  In that plate of spaghetti, or pile of thoughts, there are usually a couple thoughts that seem to be festering among the other relatively innocuous thoughts.  The plan is to ferret out the one or two thoughts that seem to be poisoning all the others.  The poisonous thoughts are the ones that do me in.  I can deal with all the mundane issues.  I begin to sort out the thoughts.  I’ll see if there’s anything I can do about them, and take some kind of action.

Maybe your laptop is away for repairs.  Maybe your laundry is multiplying and making its way down the hall.  Maybe toys are littering every corner of the house.  Maybe your mom can’t seem to find a way to say anything without hurting your feelings.  Maybe the leaves are piling up and waiting for you to go at them with a rake.  Maybe the furnace only comes on when you fiddle with the switch on the thermostat.  Maybe the person you want to spend the rest of your life with lives 2000 miles away.  Maybe you haven’t the slightest  clue what to fix for dinner. Continue reading →

Moving On / Tools — Comments Off on In Under 15 Minutes
12
Nov 09

In Under 15 Minutes

I was irritated this afternoon.  I was pissy, bitchy, frustrated and crabby.  I felt like I was on the verge of a full-fledged funk.  No, it wasn’t my period.  No, Mark hadn’t done anything.  I was out-of-sorts.

History has taught me that if I don’t get a handle on this crabbiness, it can go deep.  I didn’t have the time or patience to walk the hill.  I’m trying to be disciplined and not reach for a glass of wine.  I needed to do something quick, between helping with homework and cooking dinner.

When I was married to Mark, we had a neighbor who was a lovely lady.  I’d see her occasionally and she was always pleasant and encouraging.  I always looked harried and tired.  She didn’t have a clue about my marriage to a narcissist.  She probably assumed that I looked the way I did because I was home all day with two little kids.

She’d often look at me with kind eyes and say, “This, too, shall pass.”  Initially, I would find comfort in her words, but later I became annoyed with that expression.  I kept wondering, “Just when will this pass?  How long do I have to wait?  Can’t I speed this up a bit?”

I needed to play a more active role in getting through those episodes. Continue reading →

Moving On — 1 Comment
6
Nov 09

Narcissists Can’t Dance

I got rid of my piano. I gave away the dining room table. We have a tiny house. But now we have some open floor space on the hardwoods in the dining room.  It’s going to stay that way.  Every morning we listen to music before we head out the door.  Will gets to pick on Mondays and Wednesdays.  Jenny picks on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I get Fridays.  Most of the time, we are brushing our teeth while dancing in the middle of the dining room.  It sets a happier tone and helps us choose a better attitude before we really get the day going.

In addition to saying your kind words to yourself each day, you ought to be making music a big part of your life.  There are times when it’s comforting to listen to sad stuff.  Sad music allows you to wallow in your mess a bit.  You shouldn’t do that for long.  But sometimes it’s necessary to feel crappy about your situation.  It serves the same purpose as venting to a friend who will listen.  Music shares your pain.  After a couple or three moody songs, then it’s time to pick something fast, fun and in-your-face.  Our current favorites are “Rocks in Your Shoes” by Emily West, and “Heaven” by Los Lonely Boys.  Will and Jen know all the words by heart.  I’m pretty sure they haven’t listened enough to get the meaning.  But they love the beat.

When I was a kid we had a Hammond Organ.  Wow.  It’s great fun when you are a sixth grader comparing notes on what instrument you play.  One kid plays the flute.  One kid plays the trumpet.  The cool kid plays the drums.  The even cooler kid plays the guitar.  And the nerdy girl plays the organ.  I got to take organ lessons.  That’s probably when I first learned to be self-deprecating.  If you can’t laugh at yourself for taking organ lessons, then you better develop a thicker skin.

My mom had a thing for playing the piano and then the organ.  She tells how when she and my dad first divorced, she would tuck my brother in his bed, and me in my bed, fix a stiff drink, put on the headphones, and play the organ — really loud.  It was her way of shouting at the world.  Her way of expressing all that anger and resentment.

I hate the organ.  I have an iPod.  Lucky me.  The three of us enjoy it in the morning.  I enjoy it all by myself at night.  I’ve noticed that I’ve gravitated toward the fast, take-on-the world kind of songs; and away from the sad, what-about-me songs.  And the dancing is a big part of the music.  We all dance like maniacs around here.  It’s a great way to have fun with each other.  And for me, it’s a great way to relieve stress.  Who cares what you look like?  It’s about the fun of expressing the music. Continue reading →

Moving On — Comments Off on Housekeeping
4
Nov 09

Housekeeping

My bathroom is dirty.  The kitchen floor needs to be mopped.  I probably haven’t vacuumed in …   I’m not going to tell you how long it has been. I was just  brushing  my  teeth, noticed the  spots on the bathroom mirror, the dusty  bathroom  floor and  thought, “Hm, I   really ought  to get to that.”  I finished  my teeth, turned off the  bathroom light and   walked away.  I can walk away from things   like that  now.  I get to determine when I handle those chores.

I get to decide what time we eat dinner.  If dinner is lousy, I don’t get any dirty looks or snide comments.   I choose what I want to watch on T.V. – when we’re done watching the Disney Channel.  I hang pictures where I want.  I rake the leaves if I want, or not.  I don’t make the beds every day. ( I never have understood that custom.  You get out of bed, you eat breakfast, get dressed, go to work or school, come home, do homework, eat dinner and go to bed.  No one is there all day to notice that the bed is made.  What is the point?)

By now you are thinking I am a slob.  I’m actually organized and kind of tidy.  But my priorities are different now.  After work and school, we work on homework, throw the football, make some birthday cards, eat dinner together, play cribbage or CandyLand.  We talk about our day.  We commiserate and plan and laugh and drive each other crazy.  We enjoy each other and appreciate being together.

And, yes, we do clean the house together.  The kids are wonderful about helping because there isn’t the pressure to make everything perfect.  Usually we tackle things when I know someone is about to stop by.  Then I say, “Okay you guys, go into the livingroom, and if there’s any of your stuff in there, find where it lives.”  Then Jenny will usually say, “Are we doing that thing where we pretend like we aren’t messy?”

If I had to suggest a housekeeping tip, it would be this:  Make the decision to keep a different  house, not the narcissist’s house.

Child of Narcissist / Moving On / Random Observations / Seeing My Path / Tools — Comments Off on Filling The Hole
28
Oct 09

Filling The Hole

I can’t sleep — again.  Jenny woke at 2:30 a.m. and came in my bed.

In the old days when I couldn’t get back to sleep, I’d lay there thinking about what I was doing wrong, what I needed to change, or how I could do better.  Now when I can’t sleep, I think about how far I’ve come, how I really am doing well, and how I can’t wait to write on this blog.

If you have never tried journaling, you need to.  I’ve written in diaries or journals – and now this blog – my whole life.  A journal provides a guarantee that you will always be listened to and heard.

Anyway, now it’s 4:00 a.m., so I might as well get up, fix some decaf tea, grab some graham crackers and start writing.  It’s funny how as my fingers fly across the keyboard, my head seems to empty of all the thoughts keeping me awake, and my body loses its tenseness.

Tonight I was thinking about my theory –  it’s not an original theory.  It’s an amalgamation of a bunch of different theories that I’ve read about in all the self-help books that I’ve devoured over the years.

I believe we all have a hole in our soul.  Some call the hole a void or an injury.  I don’t like “injury”.  It’s too dramatic.  “Injury” leads to the word “victim”.  I don’t like walking around thinking that I’m a victim.  It sounds helpless and hopeless. Continue reading →

Moving On / Tools — Comments Off on One Day At A Time
24
Oct 09

One Day At A Time

If you’ve read this far, you have most likely suffered from a relationship with a narcissist.  Sometimes I find myself thinking that every time I turn around, I find a new person who has been in a relationship with a narcissist, or has discovered, finally, that they were raised by narcissists.  Narcissism is very pervasive in our culture, and it seems to be getting more prevalent.

At this point, if you haven’t checked out my disclaimer page, you might want to do that.

I will remind you that I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL on the survival of narcissism.  I’m not there yet.  I do believe that I’m headed in the direction of becoming a professional narcissism survivor.

Surviving with narcissism is a work-in-progress.  I am having way more good days than bad days.  I guess that means it’s working.

These aren’t magical steps that will cure you overnight.   These suggestions will not have you waking tomorrow morning with a plan for how your life will dramatically change.  This is a slow and steady process.  But because it is slow and steady, it takes.  It will last.  You will eventually see that you’ve modified your behavior.  You will become pro-active instead of re-active.  Your kids will see that you possess a power they didn’t know you had.  You will respect yourself and know that you are worthy of a healthy life. Continue reading →

Moving On — Comments Off on It’s Broken, Already
20
Oct 09

It’s Broken, Already

Women are fixers.  It’s part of our very nature to see if we can fix whatever may be broken.  Accommodating women are serious fixers.   It’s not that men aren’t capable or interested in fixing, too, but sometimes I think women have a tendency to try to fix when it can’t be fixed. 

A couple nights ago I was reading a review of a new book about children of narcissists.  The reviews were mostly positive, with a couple exceptions. One reviewer cited that the author gave lots of examples and case studies of the damage caused by growing up with a narcissistic parent.  But this reviewer was quite perturbed that the author did not suggest any fixes.  Maybe the reviewer still has a lot to learn about narcissism.  Maybe the reviewer is overly-optimistic.  Just about everything I’ve read says that the possibility of changing a narcissist pretty much doesn’t exist.

Every family has phrases or expressions that get handed down through the generations.  One of my favorites is, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”   The other, which I seem to repeat a lot is, “It takes a good leavin’ alone.”   A broken relationship with a narcissist is an example of something that cannot be fixed.  Remember how you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?  Narcissists don’t believe they need any help.  You are wasting your time with this one.  You bet it’s broke.  But this cannot be fixed.  There, I’ve said it again.  The individual accommodating a narcissist can get in a vicious cycle trying to make right all the damage done to their relationship.  It cannot be made right.  It takes a good leavin’ alone.

Moving On — 2 Comments
11
Oct 09

A Boy Needs a Dad

A couple mornings ago we were on our way to school.  We got held up in traffic by a school bus coming our direction.  The bus driver had his Stop sign out, so we waited for the young passenger to get on board.  We were treated to a sweet scene when a dad walked his little girl to the bus.  He checked that her coat was zipped up all the way, tugged her hood down to protect her from the chill, adjusted her backpack and planted a kiss on her tiny pink cheek.  After she got on the bus, he continued to wait until the bus took off, so he could wave.  The bus folded in it’s sign, and we were on our way.  Neither one of us mentioned anything about the dad and his daughter.

That night, while I was fixing dinner, Will came into the kitchen and asked me if I’d noticed the dad who walked his daughter to the bus that morning.  Of course I’d seen the whole thing, but I asked, “What made you think of that?”  “Oh, nothing.  I was thinking that guy is a really good dad.”  I found it interesting, and a little sad, that he remembered the scene from this morning.   I had to admit that I’d been thinking of that all day, too.

Will often comments when he sees a father that he admires.  He’ll say how neat it is that the dad appears to actually enjoy his son’s company.  Or he’ll say how cool it must be to have your dad want to throw a football with you.  It’s as if he’s on the lookout for the right qualities that make a great dad.  We’ll  be at the park, see a guy playing catch with his son, or another father pushing his daughter on a swing, and Will says, “I wish I had that.”   I can tell his heart aches to have that kind of relationship. 

 The fact that he’s looking for those qualities in someone else indicates that he’s pretty much given up on his dad ever stepping up to the plate.

Moving On — Comments Off on Drama Is Over-Rated
9
Oct 09

Drama Is Over-Rated

Mark is here right now.  He came by for another visit with the kids.  They are playing Twister in the middle of our dining room.  He is talking in his sing-song voice.  He is talking very loudly.  Maybe he talks loud because of his hearing issues.  Maybe he talks loud to maintain the stage.  I would rather scrape my fingernails across a chalkboard.  I would just as soon slit my wrists.  Instead, I am pretending to be pleasant.  I am being nice so that my children can spend some time with their dad.

After these visits, I used to immediately call a girlfriend or my mom.    I would need to tell someone about his weird behavior.  I would need to say, “How can he be like this?  How is it that he doesn’t know how to enjoy his kids?  You should hear the way he talks to them.  You should feel how strained the energy is in the room.”  I needed to vent.  I needed to hear someone say, “I don’t know how you put up with that for so long.”  Basically, I needed to have my decision, to leave, validated.  I needed to provide more examples and explanations to confirm that I had made the right choice.

Each time we would have one of these visits, and I would make a call to vent, I would feel my blood pressure spike.  You know how that is when you get all worked up about something.  Someone cuts you off in traffic, someone slights you at work, a clerk is rude to you at the grocery store and you feel your pulse begin to race.  You get agitated and defensive and your blood pressure goes up.  I would inevitably get myself worked up and I’d have to deal with the fallout of what that stress would do to my body.  I wouldn’t sleep well.  The next day I would feel a case of heartburn coming on.  It wasn’t really heartburn.  A doctor once told me that stress creates an excess of acid in your stomach.  It sits there until it dissipates and it feels a lot like heartburn.

It got to the point where I realized that I was boring my friends with the same stories.  Over and over again, the same things were happening.  Nothing was any different.  By now, it’s pretty obvious that I left for all the right reasons. No one needs any more convincing.   I made the choice.  No one else was questioning my decision.  It turns out that I was the one still questioning my decision.  When I came to terms with that, I could be done with the calls, the venting, the ranting and the drama.  I don’t need any more convincing.

When I was done with the drama, I was done with the Pepcid.  I was sleeping better.  I was less volatile.  I felt better.  I was at peace.  I was happier.  I drank less red wine.  I drank less coffee.  Things seemed to settle down.  That’s not to say that Mark was better during these visits.  I am saying that I handled them better.  Continue reading →

Moving On — 21 Comments
7
Oct 09

No One Believes You

A couple weeks ago the kids and I went to Starbucks for a rare treat.   I saw an acquaintance that I’d not seen since I had left Mark.  The fellow commented on how he hadn’t seen me in awhile, and he guessed that I was focusing on raising kids.

I explained that I was divorced, and that my circle and routine had changed.

I enjoy seeing the looks on the faces of those who are just discovering that I am divorced.

This fellow said, “On the list of unexpected news, your divorce is tops.  I would have never guessed that would happen to you.  You always made marriage look easy.”  With coffee in hand, he walked out shaking his head.

__________ Continue reading →

Moving On — Comments Off on The Glass is Half Full or How To Be Grateful When It Doesn’t Seem Like There’s Anything To Be Grateful For
5
Oct 09

The Glass is Half Full or How To Be Grateful When It Doesn’t Seem Like There’s Anything To Be Grateful For

Jenny has this cute little bead craft that she spends a lot of time with.  Jenny is a typically energetic 7 year old.  She loves to sing and dance to Taylor Swift, she loves to chase her brother around the house and she loves to jump on the couch.  But this bead thing is her thing.  Sometimes she’ll quietly spend the better part of an hour painstakingly lining up beads in colorful patterns to make butterflies, dolphins or teddy bears.  I think it’s her therapy. 

Mark was over yesterday.  Even though he could not care less about Jenny’s bead project, he fakes interest pretty well.  He puts on his sing-song voice and tries to suggest which color Jen should place next.  I’m standing in the kitchen and I feel myself wince when I hear him say, “Oh Honey, it would be so much nicer if you used green there instead of blue.  And if you used black there, it would make all the other colors show up better.”  With each one of his well-meaning comments I can feel Jenny shrink away from him.  She’s already a petite little thing, and each of his suggestions seems to make her tinier and tinier. 

After Mark left, I looked over to see Jenny in a collapsed pink puddle on the couch.  I walked over to the opposite chair and sat so she knew I was there and aware of how she was feeling.  I didn’t say anything right away.  I knew she needed to feel bad for a bit.  Finally I said, “How ya doin’, Jen?”  She unleashed with, “How come he never asks about me?  How come he’s never interested in what I’m interested in?  How come he doesn’t like the colors I pick?  Why is it all about what he wants to do?”  There was no point in telling her that I knew exactly how she felt.  She doesn’t want to hear that.  She doesn’t want me to tell her that it feels like she is invisible, or that the wind could blow right through her insides because it feels like there is nothing inside her.  She doesn’t care that I let her pick the colors, that I care about her day or that I like to know the details about school and her teacher.  She needs that from her dad.  I can’t do that for her.

The best I can come up with is to say, “You know, Jenny, I happen to know someone who has a pretty great life even tho’ she doesn’t have a very great relationship with her dad.”  “Yeah?”  She’s pouting and ready to kick something by this  point.  “Yeah?  Who’s that?”   I wait for her to look at me and I say, “Me … Silly.”  I give her a second to let it sink in.  She looks at me and says, “Yeah?  Well you’re lucky!”  We both think on that for a moment and then suddenly we both burst out laughing.  Even my little 7 year old could see the absurdity in that comment.

Moving On — 2 Comments
3
Oct 09

My Declaration

My mom is trying to help.  She loves me and her heart is in the right place.  She recommended that I pick up the book by Steve Harvey called, ‘Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man’.  Am I the only woman offended by this title?  I’ve admitted that my goal was to be a wife and mother, but I did not agree to erase my personality.  And I wouldn’t want a guy who can’t appreciate my femaleness as much as I appreciate his maleness.  Why does it seem that every popular relationship book has women adapting themselves to suit a man?  I just read this article about improving your relationship by not talking about it.  There’s a ton of research out there about how guys don’t like to talk about feelings and relationships, so if women want a relationship, they better talk to their girlfriends about it, not their guy.  How about all the research that says women need to talk about feelings and relationships?  Where are the books that say that if a guy wants a relationship, he better at least try to utter something about how he feels?  Forget it.  Once again, we are to adapt ourselves to them.  They don’t have to, shouldn’t have to and will not adapt to us.  Wouldn’t it work if there was a compromise somewhere?  What if I agreed to not always have to talk feelings, and he worked on once in awhile listening and not running away from anything to do with feelings?

Here’s my declaration:

1.  I will not stifle who I am to get a man.  I will be emotional and enjoy all the feelings that I have.  I will be wholly female and revel in it.

2.  I will not change what I look like to get a man.  I will like the way I look (at least most days) and know that I am looking my best.  Looks never last anyway.

3.  I will watch football if I want to.  I will golf when I want to.  I will ski as fast or as slow as I want to.  I will read when I want and talk on the phone when I want and watch tv when I want and cry when I want. Continue reading →

Moving On — Comments Off on Anything’s Possible
29
Sep 09

Anything’s Possible

I had a dream last night.  Don’t panic.  I’m not going to bore you with the details.  But this morning, I felt a sense of hope that there might really be someone out there for me.

Accommodators are a special breed.  Of course I say that, because I’m an accommodator.  I think we get that way from our upbringing.  We don’t think people like us or love us unless we do things for them.   As long as we take care of everything, then we guarantee that we will be loved.  It’s easy to see how narcissists prey on accommodators.  It’s a match made in heaven.  Accommodators need to please/serve/give and narcissists need to receive and be served.  If the accommodator manages to serve, all the while admiring and complimenting the narcissist, well that’s even better.  That’s why those relationships appear to work well.  From an outsider’s perspective, it seems that both partners are getting what they want.  That is until the narcissist determines that the accommodator isn’t performing up to standard,  isn’t giving enough, or isn’t serving quickly enough. 

I have to learn that I am just as worthy of receiving as anyone else.  I will still be liked even if I am not constantly doing for others.  I will be liked for who I am, not just what I can do.  My mom once told me that I was so accommodating that I was annoying.  I always thought the world would be a nicer place if everybody was a little more accommodating.  Maybe she’s right.  I’m going to work on not feeling guilty about receiving.  I’m going to work on graciously letting someone do for me. 

So in the dream, I’d met a man who was patient with me.  He didn’t treat me like an inconvenience because of my sometimes messy life with kids.  He enjoyed my company.  He liked me even when he was doing things for me.  And in the dream, I felt appreciated, accepted and loved.  In the dream, I kept looking at this man as if he might disappear.  I was stunned that he would want to be with me. 

He’s out there.  Somewhere.  I think.

Child of Narcissist / Moving On / Tools — Comments Off on Survival Tools
23
Sep 09

Survival Tools

When I was looking for a divorce lawyer, I met with a female attorney first.  I could tell from the first meeting that she didn’t like me.  We just didn’t click.  I didn’t hire her and went on to hire a different attorney.   The first attorney did give me some valuable advice.  She wisely told me that I needed to give Will and Jenny the tools they needed to learn to deal with their dad and his disorder.  She made a point of making sure that I understood that I could not prevent them from seeing their dad, so I might as well arm them with the necessary coping skills.

Her statement has really stuck with me.  And it applies to life in general.  As much as we may want to run from situations, we only grow by learning to deal with them.  Go ahead and run, but chances are, the new path you take could lead you headlong into the same mess.  I have not specifically told Will and Jenny about their dad and NPD.* They are too young for that.  But when they ask questions about their dad’s behavior, I take the time to explain his actions.  My goal is for the kids to understand that their dad is just the way he is, and it has absolutely nothing to do with who they are, how they dress, what their interests are or anything they are doing.  I do not want them laying awake at night, thinking that their dad behaves the way he does because of something they did or because of who they are.

They have managed to come up with a pretty good set of tools for heading off any disappointments or confrontations.  They have learned which buttons to avoid pushing.  It has all been trial and error.  Act this way, and this is what you get.  Act a different way and you can expect this.  Kids are intelligent.  They understand cause and effect.  If something is painful, they’ll do their best to avoid it.

Mark stopped by for a visit yesterday.  Just before he had gotten here, Jenny had been rubbing her eye.  Her eye was irritated and red.  When I asked her if she was going to go out and say hi to her dad, she said, “Mom, if he sees that my eye is red, he’s going to treat me like a baby.  I’m not going out there.”   (Mark still believes that Jenny is the last holdout for any sourcing of his narcissism.  He treats her like a baby with the hope that she will always be his admiring little girl.  He does not empathize with the fact that seven year old girls cannot stand to be treated like babies.)  I laughingly suggested that she wear my sunglasses, and expected that she wouldn’t take me up on the offer.  Surely, wearing big sunglasses would get more adverse attention than a red eye.  She took me up on the offer.  She pranced around the front yard in huge sunglasses, and she never took them off.  Being the true narcissist that he is, he didn’t even notice the sunglasses or the red eye.  It ended up being fun for Jenny, and she avoided being treated like the baby.

Will and Jenny have gotten pretty clever at coming up with different tools.  I help them to be confident with who they are.  They come up with the tools and coping mechanisms on their own.  And just like with everything else in life, the lessons we learn on our own are the ones that stick.  They will both come out of this with some pretty extensive tool chests.  Those tools should serve them both well in all their different relationships. Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Lack of Empathy / Moving On / Seeing My Path / The World Revolves Around Me / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 6 Comments
21
Sep 09

Forgiveness

I have one of those screensavers on my laptop that displays all the photos in My Pictures.  I still have all the photos from when we lived with Mark.  Others have commented that it’s a little odd that I haven’t removed them.  That screensaver provides a lot of entertainment for Will and Jenny.  It’s like having a whole bunch of photo albums at their fingertips. Their dad is still a huge part of their lives and they get a great deal of enjoyment out of the photos. 

If it pains me to see pictures of Mark, then I haven’t moved on. 

The other day I walked by the laptop and saw a nice photo of Mark with one of the kids.  I thought how sad it is that he misses out on the day-to-day stuff with Will and Jen.  As an accommodator, it is easy to lose sleep over stuff like that.  That’s why it took me so long to leave. 

I felt sorry for Mark over many issues.  I felt sorry for him because of his upbringing.  I felt sorry for him because of the distance between himself and the rest of his family.  Was I going to feel sorry for him for the rest of my life?  Naturally, there was a point when I was too mad to feel sorry.  But mostly, it is sad that NPD prevents him from really knowing his kids.  NPD prevents him from having any healthy relationships.

There is so much written about forgiveness.  We’ve heard it all about how the only one who is hurt when you hold a grudge is yourself.  Continue reading →

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