The World Revolves Around Me


19
Feb 10

Narcissists and Rules

  • cowboy-hatDon’t touch a cowboy’s hat or a lady’s hair-do.
  • Don’t ask anyone how many acres they have, how many head of cattle they own, or how much money they have in the bank.
  • Do not ask a lady how much she weighs or how old she is.
  • Never ask a big lady when her baby is due.
  • Don’t tell anyone your social security number, your pin number or your locker combination.
  • If you eat the whole bag of Fritos, keep it a secret.

These are social norms or rules.  They aren’t laws, but they are so ingrained that they might as well be laws.  Some are as old as dirt, and some are relatively new.  The Frito rule might be specific to my little family.  There are a lot of rules that kids need to learn, and a lot of them can sound kind of silly.  Now that Will is older, he understands the one about a cowboy’s hat.  He still doesn’t get the one about a lady’s hair-do.  Maybe that’s because I don’t really have any sort of hair-do, and I don’t personally adhere to that rule about my own hair.  Will is a literal fellow, and I can remember that it took a lot of explainin’ to get across the point about not asking how many cows someone has, or how much money they have.  If he was quick to tell someone how many pennies he had in his piggy bank, why wouldn’t they say how many dollars they had?

Last night Mark was over.  The visit included the usual high-pitched, sing-song voice, the faked appreciation of the kids’ artwork, and tediously exaggerated tales of his grandeur.  When Mark left, Will told me, “Dad gave Bob our locker combination so Bob could wax my skis.”   I have met Bob only one time.

The kids and I have been invited to share a locker with some other family members.  (These family members are extended family, and they are not part of Mark’s extended family.)  The locker is not ours.  The locker combination is not ours.  Perhaps you may even be able to hear my fingers slamming the keys of my keyboard at this point?  At the beginning of the season, Will had gone skiing with Mark.  When Will couldn’t get the locker open, he shared the combination with his dad, hoping his dad would be able to get the lock to cooperate.  That was an innocent move that any child would make — even a child who is beginning to grasp the rule about not sharing your locker combination, pin number, or social security number.

Over the course of my ‘relationship’ with Mark, I have seen many instances where Mark has not followed rules.  It wasn’t so much that he fudged a little, or that he was in a hurry, or that he figured he could bend a rule just this one time, he firmly believes that rules don’t apply to him.  Just because a sign says “No Parking”, that doesn’t mean he can’t park there.  You would think there would even be some fine print on the bottom of the sign that read, “But it’s okay for you, Mark.” Continue reading →


17
Feb 10

Love Notes and the Narcissist

love noteI stepped out of the shower this morning, head full of what to make for dinner; are they on track for home schooling; did I figure the taxes correctly; gotta order some firewood ….    And I found this on the bathroom floor — a love note from Jenny.  Sweet words sung to the tune of  ‘Clementine’.  It doesn’t get much better than that.

Mark used to write me notes.  He wrote a lot of letters to me.   For obvious reasons, I can’t bring myself to look at them now.  But I remember they were quite wordy, windy, and showy.  I hadn’t ever received love letters before.  What did I know?  There’s the classic examples of love letters that you can find in literature.  To me, that’s a lot like the Latin Lover with the rose clenched between his teeth.  No thanks.  When I think back on Mark’s letters, I remember thinking that there was a lot of stuff about Mark in them.  It wasn’t so much about how fabulous I was, it was about how fabulous he was.  Maybe he saw the necessity, even then, in trying to convince me.

And he kept track of my responses to his letters.  He wouldn’t write to me, until he’d received a response to his most recent letter.  He was definitely keeping score.  At the time, I thought that there must be some sort of protocol for love-letter writing.  I know, now, that love isn’t about keeping score, it’s about giving freely with heartfelt intentions.  A genuine expression of love ought to be as innocent as a note from a child.  When Jenny penned that little note this morning, I’m positive she wasn’t thinking, “Okay, I’ll write this to mommy, but I sure hope she writes one back to me.”  That was not her motivation for writing the note.  She loves me, and wanted to tell me.  There’s no agenda.

But love is also about some measure of reciprocity.  It’s also about loving yourself, and realizing that you deserve love.  It’s not stomping your foot, demanding acknowledgment or recognition.  It is giving freely without expectation of return.  And love is also about respecting yourself enough to move on to something healthier when you keep giving, and getting nothing back.

When was the last time you wrote someone a love note?  Write a note to someone — maybe even to yourself.  It’s not as silly as it sounds.  It’s sending good words out there, that you deserve.  You can make it flowery, if you like that sorta thing.  Or make it straightforward and to-the-point.  Just don’t sit around waiting for a response.  That ruins the genuine intent of the whole thing.  And if your choice comes down to writing to yourself, or the narcissist in your life, please write to yourself.


14
Feb 10

Be Your Own Valentine

tinkI was going to work on my taxes today.  I was going to try to unclog my bathroom sink.  I played all day yesterday, so I’m feeling like I’m supposed to be productive and accomplish something today.  (As if spending a  wonderful day enjoying the company of my kids isn’t productive.)

Then I remembered, “It’s Valentine’s Day!!”

*sigh*

I don’t have anything insightful to say about Valentine’s Day.  If you’d like a chuckle to go with your obligatory box of chocolates, then check out a previous post on narcissism and gift-giving.

Enjoy this quote on love, or this one, too. Continue reading →


11
Feb 10

Come And Tell Me Why Yer Leavin’ Me

The first time I set foot in our little house, I got teary.  Granted, I wasn’t very emotionally stable at the time.  I had decided to leave my husband.   I had been living at my mom’s for a couple months.  I had to get my kids settled, and the weight of the transition was heavy on me.  The realtor unlocked the maroon door and we stepped into the open living room/dining room area.  I took one look at the wood stove, glanced at the dark red walls in the kitchen, and I knew it would be our home.

I always wanted a wood stove at Mark’s house.  I’m always cold, and I wear layers, even in summer.  We deal with a lot of winter, and a wood stove provides a comfort that you don’t get from an electric blanket or forced air heat, or a narcissistic husband.  Besides, I love the ritualistic aspects of burning wood.  There’s the physical labor of finding and cutting and hauling and stacking the wood.  And there’s the continual feeding of the fire.  Will and I even cleaned our chimney this year.  I don’t care that it’s messy.  I love the smell as much as the warmth.  It’s basic to survival.  It connects me to the process of life.

Mark doesn’t like burning with wood because it’s messy, smelly, and hard to control.

__________

It was our first winter here, and I jumped up to put another log in the wood stove.  Without realizing I was doing it, I started singing a song from my college days. Continue reading →


10
Feb 10

Narcissism and Lack of Awareness

lampI am writing at the purple table.  I reach for a sip of coffee and kick the cat.

I did not kick her on purpose.

I’ve already mentioned that we live with the world’s most patient cat.  She is affectionate and loving, and she likes my ankles.

I sit at the table, right leg crossed over left, writing, answering questions, breaking up fights, sipping coffee, and writing some more.  Invariably, I have to get up to fix or get or find something, and when I do, I pick up my right leg.  When I lift my leg to get off the chair, my foot comes up and kicks Nina.

I usually catch her in the ribs. Continue reading →


9
Feb 10

Nighttime and the Narcissist

Who thinks of you at night?  Who thinks of you as they turn out the light?  Who sends up a little prayer for you, or gives thanks that you are in their life?

Last night, on my way to bed, I checked on Will and Jenny.  I do every night.  Seems I can’t go to sleep unless I check on them first.  It probably isn’t necessary.  I tuck them in every night.  But I have to see them before I go off to bed.  I remember one night several years ago, I was preoccupied, went to bed, read a bit, turned out the light, and settled in.  I was just hitting that sweet spot between wakefulness and snooze, when I bolted upright and realized I hadn’t checked on them.  I jumped out of bed to make sure that they were snuggled safely in their beds.  Every now and then, Will asks me if I still check on them before I go to bed.  I’m not sure I could go to sleep without first checking on them.

I don’t think it is too much to expect that a spouse or partner might think of you before he closes his day.  Of course, we are busy and exhausted.  There are so many distractions.  There is the need to just unwind and not have to fulfill anymore obligations.  But at the end of the day, can’t we make time for this person who shares a life with us — struggles and all?  Can we share a warm glance that says, “I’m glad you’re here, even if I’m too damn tired to do anything about it?”

I can guess what ran through Mark’s head when I was still living in his house.  It was probably a lot like this:

“Damn, when is that woman going to figure out how to fix pork chops the way I like ’em?  I wish she’d leave me alone with the remote.  God, I hope she tucks the kids in, it’s her job anyway.  I wonder if she remembered to take the garbage out?  Shouldn’t those toys be picked up by now?  I wonder if I have clean socks for tomorrow?  Do I have to sit through one more story about the kids?  Wonder if I’ll get any tonight?” Continue reading →


7
Feb 10

The Proper Care and Feeding of Your Narcissist

Eight years ago on Super Bowl Sunday, I was two months pregnant with Jenny.  I had round-the-clock morning sickness.  To this day, I tell Jenny that she was worth every trip to the bathroom.

One of my favorite pictures is a shot of me, looking awful from the morning all-day sickness, holding a gallon-sized container of Atomic Fireballs.  There’s something about the hot spicy jawbreakers that kept the sickness at bay.  They were an absolute lifesaver.  I had an Atomic Fireball in my mouth for 7 months.

Poor Will was going on four years old.  He got used to me hanging out in the bathroom.  In fact, after Jenny was born, I was doing something, let out a cough, and I heard Will say, “Mommy, are you throwing up again?”

Anyway, we had been invited to a Super Bowl Party.  I was sitting in a chair, trying to summon up the strength to put on my shoes.  I did not want to go to the party, but I didn’t want to disappoint Mark and Will.  I looked at Mark and said, “I’m so sorry, but I just can’t go.  I feel like all I’ve been doing is trying to simply exist.”  He looked at me, let out a sigh of frustration and said, “Well, that is all you’ve been doing.”

__________ Continue reading →


1
Feb 10

When Narcissists Win Grammys

We watched the Grammys last night.  The Grammys might also be called, “The Music World’s Parade of Narcissists“.  We watched to see the artists we like, but as the spectacle continued, we became annoyed by the display of glitz and the embarrassing acceptance speeches.  The extravaganza took on all the fascination of a train wreck.  We felt compelled to watch to see which Narcissist would attempt to out-do the other Narcissists.

It was painful, hilarious, disgusting, and not in the least entertaining.  Just what do the Grammys have to do with music?

At the risk of sounding like I’m channeling my grandma when she watched the debut of the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, I have to wonder, what do baggy pants have to do with entertainment?  The station had to block the sound on half of the lyrics “sung” by Eminem and his bad-ass buddies.  Is this music worthy of any awards?

At one point Jenny said, “Why don’t they wear regular clothes, stop acting so weird, and just sing?”  Will noticed that the audience wasn’t clapping very enthusiastically, and said, “I think they’re only clapping to be polite.”  What part of the Elton John/ Lady Gaga spectacle was entertaining?  Maybe it was a fine display of marketing and packaging in an attempt to sell more CDs, but I’m not rushing out to buy anything based on what I saw, and I like Elton John.

Check out the lyrics for the Black Eyed Peas’, ‘Imma Be’.  The only line missing is, “Imma Be a Narcissist.” Continue reading →


31
Jan 10

Narcissism and ROI

piggy-bankI had the “Finals Week Dream” last night.  I used to have that one a lot.  In the dream, it’s finals week and I’m looking at the printout that shows the schedule for my finals.  I’m going over the schedule, thinking about how much time I’ll be able to cram for each test, and I see a final on there that makes me absolutely panic.  I keep staring at the class number.  My brain starts spiraling.

Crap.

I forgot to go to that class last quarter!  How can I pass a final for a class I forgot to attend?

I guess it has something to do with failing to be prepared?  I’ve heard of people having the “Forgot The Baby On Top of the Car Dream”.  Mine is always about having to take a final for a class I never attended.

After waking to that sense of relief that comes with realizing that it’s just a dream, my mind had all these accounting acronyms swimming around in it.  Things like ROI (Return On Investment), LIFO (Last In First Out), and FIFO (First In First Out), that I haven’t thought about since college. Continue reading →


28
Jan 10

The Blogger as Narcissist

Maybe I’m the Narcissist?

I’m the one writing this blog.

Could be I’m every bit as narcissistic as my wasband.

That thought used to keep me awake at night.

I’ve taken the tests.  I’ve read the books.  It’s not lost on me that with as much time as I spend writing and thinking about my life, I could be every bit as narcissistic as he is.  Add to that the fact that I’m putting this all out there for the world to see.  But I have enough experience in, and knowledge about, NPD to know that I’m not the narcissist.

I sleep well.

Writing this blog has been the best thing to happen to me in a long time.   I started out venting, spewing, rationalizing and explaining.  Now I see that writing this blog has been instrumental in helping me move on.  There are fewer days when I wallow in the “poor me”; and a lot more days when I marvel at how far the three of us have come. Continue reading →


25
Jan 10

Why Did the Narcissist Cross the Road?

The other night I really yelled at Jenny.  Yes, it is only January, and I have  already managed to remove myself from contention for Mother of the Year – 2010.  That didn’t take long.  Truth be told, I probably committed my first infraction on January 1st.

Jenny is a selective eater.  In Jenny’s case, ‘experimental eating’ means anything other than PBJ, chocolate milk, mandarin oranges and finely grated cheddar cheese.  I had put a bowl of homemade soup in front of her.  I will say that at least she tries what I present.  She doesn’t whine.  She has a couple bites and then politely asks for something that she will actually eat.  This particular night, I blew a grommet.  I lost my temper.   I know all the psychological damage that can be caused by making an issue out of food.  I have my own fond memories of sitting at the table trying to gag down ice-cold canned spinach – like it’s any better when it’s warm.

I’m not proud to tell you that she ended up in tears.  I was a jerk.  After I made her a peanut butter and jelly, I apologized.  I really apologized.  I said, “Jenny, I am sorry.”  I thought of saying any one of the following:

  • “I’m sorry.  I’m getting my period.  I wish you would eat the damn soup.”
  • “I’m sorry, but you frustrate the hell out of me and I just wish you would eat what I put in front of you.”
  • “I’m sorry that you are so selective about what you eat.”
  • “I’m sorry I spent all day making homemade soup, only to have you turn your nose up at it.”

Instead, I admitted that I made a mistake, and I simply said, “I am sorry,”  without  justifications, rationalizations or explanations. Continue reading →


11
Jan 10

Noxious Narcissism

bind-weedThe other day Will and I were riding home from the ski hill with grandpa.  The subject of  “Blooming where you’re planted” came up.  I don’t think I’d find many people to disagree with the premise — be happy where you are planted.  I asked grandpa what he thought about the fact that there might be a lot of weeds where we are planted.  He responded by saying, “The best way to deal with weeds is to make sure the plant is healthy.”  He is right, of course.  The healthier the plant, the less chance the weeds have to take over.

I pretend to be a gardener.  I love gardening and flowers and vegies and being outside playing in the dirt with the kids and the worms.  I never use any kind of chemicals.  That stuff scares me.  In fact, for me it is therapeutic to pull weeds.

We have a lot of bind weed where we live.  Circling our little garden is a four foot fence made of chicken coop wire.  It is just about impossible to uncoil bind weed from that fencing, once it has a chance to get started.  And actually, bind weed is kind of pretty when it blooms.   Bind weed is part of the Morning Glory family. I usually ignore the bind weed that crawls up the fencing.  It looks nice when it blooms, and it’s difficult to get rid of once it takes over.  But bind weed needs to be pulled before it wraps its tendrils around young seedlings.  I try to get Sweet Peas to climb that same chicken coop fencing.  It does well if I can keep the bind weed away from it.

So back to the ride home from the ski hill.

I was enjoying that exquisite relaxation that comes from a day of exercising outside.  I didn’t have to focus on driving.  My mind was thinking about blooming and weeds and toxicity and narcissism.  Suddenly I envisioned Mark wrapping his arms around Will and pulling him onto his lap — the way he has done since Will was a toddler.  He always seemed to be restraining Will.  He’d refuse to let him run around and play.  He seemed to want to pin him down in an effort to control him.  And then I envisioned the way bind weed wraps around a vulnerable little Sweet Pea seedling — choking it.  The Sweet Pea seedling bends under the weight of the bind weed.  It is helpless until someone comes along and pulls the bind weed.  I could see my own little Sweet Peas struggling to stand tall, to catch a breath, to reach the sun, to grow and bloom. Continue reading →


5
Jan 10

People As Holidays

People are  like holidays.  Do  others see  you as  Christmas, or more  like Tax Day?
Ward Elliot Hour

4
Jan 10

When Narcissists Cave

Peanut is home.  Peanut is a Shetland Pony-sized mechanical horse that Santa brought for Jenny two Christmases ago.  Santa should have known better than to deliver Peanut  to Mark’s house.

You see, Mark has held Peanut hostage for two years.  That’s one third of Jenny’s life.  Mark actually told Jenny that he was not going to let her take the pony home to our house so as to guarantee regular visits at his house.

One of the greatest joys of parenting is watching your child get so excited over receiving a gift that they have been wanting so badly.   That’s one of the few ways you can actually get close to re-living that excitement you felt as a child.  It’s your chance to revisit that total elation over getting the gift that you hoped and dreamed for.  Imagine watching that joy and elation on your beautiful little girl’s face.

Then imagine telling her that she can’t take her precious pony home.

It’s pretty difficult to remain self-centered once you have kids.  You don’t even miss those self-absorbed days.  Your focus is first on making sure they survive.  Then you are wrapped up in the fun, the adventure, the craziness, the chaos and the bliss of watching these blessings turn into people. Continue reading →


27
Dec 09

The Height of Narcissism

A few days before Christmas, my kids received a letter from Santa Claus.  I told you they were special.  Actually, for about the last three years, Mark has been penning a letter, printing it in a flowery script, placing it in a manila envelope with a return address of “Office of Santa Claus, North Pole”, and leaving it at our door.  The letters always talk about what is currently going on in their lives, like the fact that Will is into golf and Jenny is growing her bangs out.  I think Mark is capitalizing on the “Santa watches everything” line, and he’s letting the kids know just what it is that Santa sees.  Mark does not keep in mind the fact that kids are very perceptive.   And he hasn’t factored in the inevitable conversations and reactions at school, when our kids ask other kids about their letters from Santa.  Oops.

The night of the letter delivery, when Mark made his “goodnight” call, he asked to talk to me.  When I got on the phone he said, “Hey, did the kids get a letter from Santa?”  I said that they had gotten it.  And there was a long pause.  Mark said, “Well, they didn’t mention anything.”  Another pause …     Finally I said, “Ah, Mark…  If I ask them about the letter right now, they will know that you had something to do with it.”  “Oh, yes.  Well, I just wanted to know if they got it and if they liked it.”

Will is 11 and he still believes.  At least it sure seems like it.  Could be that he’s faking it because he’s already discovered that fantasy is better than reality.  He did ask a bunch of questions about this year’s letter.  “Do all kids get letters?  How does Santa have time to write all those letters?  If all kids don’t get letters, why do we get ’em?”

The three of us were excited this year because Mark had made plans to be out of town for Christmas.  Then, on the night of Christmas Eve, he asked when he could see the kids on Christmas Day.  That sent us into a tailspin.  Of course, in typical Narcissist fashion, he denied ever having made plans to be out of town.  He said that he’d been asking the kids (all along) when they could come over.  When I got off the phone, I asked them if their dad had attempted to make plans for Christmas Day.  They denied ever having been asked.  Then they asked if I was mad at them.  Then we tried to re-create phone conversations with Mark.  And once again, the three of us realized that we were caught up in his lies and contradictions.  We got our bearings, set up a time for the kids to see him, and proceeded to grin and bear it.

On Christmas Day, after opening the gifts that Santa left at Mark’s house, Will gave me a call.  He had an urgent question.  “Mom?  Did you talk to Santa on the phone this year?”  I emphatically said, “No!  Pal, he’s way too busy to be talking to every body’s parents this time of year.”  Then Will says, “Well I was just checking.” Continue reading →