You Might Be a Narcissist If … « Surviving Narcissism

You Might Be a Narcissist If …

When Accommodators Cave

“Please! Someone whack my knuckles with a ruler. Now!” That was the plea I sent out to the Twitter Universe a few weeks ago. I was trying desperately to prevent myself from emailing John. Annie, bless her heart, sent back a virtual whacking that sounded something like, “There. You’ve been whacked.”

And the next night I caved.

It had been 16 whole, long, sad, dreary days since I’d sent him an email or received anything from him. Truth be told, he was out of cell range or internet access, and he couldn’t communicate. (Although, I don’t know that he’d actually have written, if I hadn’t written first.) On the 16th night I couldn’t stop my fingers. I sent an email that said I missed him.

He wrote back, within 13 minutes, to say that he missed me.

Here’s a brief list of things that I just don’t understand: Continue reading →

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2
Apr 10

Mexican Salad and ‘The Good Witch’

mexican-salad What is worse – having a narcissistic father that fights for custody and makes the kids’ lives miserable on a daily basis, or having a narcissistic father who wants nothing to do with his children, if they won’t do things his way? I think Will and Jenny have it better. While they will certainly be hurt by the fact that their dad can so easily walk away, they won’t have to deal with the day-to-day dismissals of who they are. They won’t have Mark belittling them or using them as extensions of himself.

In Mark’s lengthy email, he had asked me what I proposed as a solution to this problem – like he’d actually entertain any of my suggestions. He hinted at the possibility of resorting to calling lawyers again, and forcing visitation. I speculated that things would go something like this:

He wouldn’t call the attorney because, after himself, and above all else, money is the most important thing to him. Attorneys cost money.
He would not agree to adapt his behavior in an effort to have a better relationship with these two precious people.
I guessed that he would not address any of the kids’ requests. I was pretty convinced that he’d tell them he was trying his best and that he loved them. Then, as per usual, he would not call a couple days and wait for the dust to settle. Then, on about the fifth day of no contact, he’d call, and with his sing/song voice, he’d invite them to do something, pretending like nothing had ever happened.

I did not guess that he would walk away from his kids. I did not let myself believe that he was as low as he apparently is. I did not see that coming, even though I have written about the fact that, if the accommodator stops being the source, the narcissist will completely dismiss her, and search for a new source. And there lies the trap in all this. As schooled as I may think I am in all this narcissism stuff, there is still something (frickin’ Lizard Brain) that makes it hard to comprehend that another individual – someone I thought I knew, and loved – is capable of such things.

__________ Continue reading →

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1
Apr 10

Pretending

cardboard-ipod This is a picture of the cardboard iPod that Jenny made. She brought it skiing today. Her brother got one for Christmas, and she wants to be a ‘cool kid’, too, so she made her own. At lunch, in the lodge, she was playing with her ‘iPod’, and Will said, “Jen, some people are laughing at your iPod.” Jenny defiantly said, “So what!” I hope she’s able to maintain that attitude. Later, she asked if I wanted a pretend iPod. I wanted to say, “Nah. No thanks, honey. I’ve had a pretend boyfriend for almost 3 years. I’m done pretending for awhile.

__________

Speaking of pretending…

The kids emailed their dad in response to his lengthy email. Will’s email was about the way his feelings are hurt when his dad makes fun of the things he loves; when his dad doesn’t acknowledge Will’s interests; and how Mark’s always too busy with his business to have any time for them. Jenny’s email brought up the fact that Mark says he’s going to try – try to be interested, try to use an adult voice, try to spend time with her – and he doesn’t come through.

I insisted on reading the emails before they hit the ‘send’ button. I wasn’t concerned about grammar and spelling as much as I was concerned about… Continue reading →

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1
Apr 10

More Survivor Humor

Mark and I are getting back together.

April Fools!!

Continue reading →

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27
Mar 10

Due To Lack of Interest

“Due to lack of interest, tomorrow has been canceled.” My mom had a cartoon, with that caption, pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen. I was old enough to read, and I’d look at that and I thought it was real. I really thought that if we weren’t interested in anything, the world would end. My mom was interested in her job, and keeping the house together. I was interested in Barbies and having tea parties. My brother was interested in Hot Wheels and shooting gophers. I guess I figured we were doing our parts. But that damn cartoon kept me up a lot of nights. Could tomorrow really be canceled? How do we keep that from happening? Maybe that’s why I’m interested (some might call me nosey) in other people and their lives. I’m hoping that if I’m interested enough, tomorrow won’t be canceled.

After a fabulous day in the sunshine, skiing with two amazing people who picked me to be their mom, I came to a conclusion. We are beyond absolutely fine. We thrive on not having to deal with Mark. In fact, we flourish.

This is where I am, right at this moment:

“Due to lack of interest*, tomorrow** has been canceled.”

* Mark’s lack of interest in Jenny and Will Continue reading →

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25
Mar 10

Proof That I’m Not a Narcissist

I’ve been trying to find an emoticon that equals “heavy sigh”. Yesterday was a wicked day for Will and Jenny. After some serious triage; administering Cheetos and fudge bars and a large dose of junk TV; I tucked them in their beds. I will be spending the day focusing on repairing the damage to their egos and reminding them that life is also very funny even when it pisses you off.

However, I must tell you that I do have further proof that I AM NOT a narcissist. I just got out of the shower and accidentally caught a full glimpse of my naked back side. Trust me. I would not do that on purpose. And this flash went through my head, “That must be what my grandpa saw when my grandma got out of the shower.” And immediately I was filled with love, sympathy and compassion for my grandpa. That’s real empathy. A narcissist can’t do that.

I am going to tend to my bruised children now. And I’m going to squeeze in 37 walks up the hill at the park, in an effort to erase that vision of my grandma’s back side. Is it too early for a shot?

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24
Mar 10

The YCMTSU File

YCMTSU stands for You Can’t Make This Shit Up.

I just got off the phone with my dad. To be honest, he called yesterday and I didn’t pick up. I hear you gasping. A couple months ago when I did pick up he was having some financial problems, so I was a little gun-shy yesterday. But because I am a bad Catholic daughter, the guilt got the best of me today and I picked up.

He said he’d tried calling yesterday. I said I was skiing. That was a lie. (Told you I was a bad Catholic.) He said, “I didn’t know you were a skier.” I said, “Dad, I’ve skied with you. You know I’m a skier.” He said, “I don’t have any short term memory anymore.” I said, “Dad, I’ve been skiing for 37 years.”

He called to share a story with me. It seems that yesterday he’d decided to “end it all”. He’s sick of the weather, his car broke down, his renters aren’t paying and he’s done with the whole damn thing. (Please understand that I have heard the “end it all” talk my whole life. First, I heard it from my grandma, then my dad. This talk is attention-getting at it’s worst.) I reminded him that the Catholic Chrch wouldn’t really take too kindly to his committing suicide. He said, “Well, yes. I would go straight to hell.” I said, “What’s the point of being a good Catholic all those years only to end it with suicide and go straight to hell?” He said, “Well…….”

I said, “Geez, Dad, at least you could wait until the end of golf season. You’ve got at least one more good season in ya.” He said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been swinging really well. I’ll rethink this thing in October.”

I said, “So did you call to give me the story of “Ending it all”? He said, “Oh yeah, that’s right. So I was walking to meet my buddies for lunch at Burger King. You know, since my car broke down. And as I was walking across the street I saw a big semi and some trucks heading for me and I thought, ‘I could do this right now.’ So I stopped in the middle of the road. And you know what happened? The truck in the front stopped and the semi stopped and everybody else stopped.” I said, “Well, Dad, I guess God put his big hand down to direct traffic, huh?” He said, “Guess who was driving the first truck that stopped.” I said, “I don’t know, Dad, tell me.” Continue reading →

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17
Mar 10

I Am A Liar

st-paddys-day This morning we woke to broken shortbread cookie bites and green sugar sprinkles strewn across the kitchen counter and along the floor. A confused Barbie was standing erect in Will’s leprechaun trap. More cookie bites were laying around Jen’s upturned trap. No luck. They still haven’t managed to catch a real leprechaun.

Since Will was five, our home has been annually visited by Larry the Leprechaun. He leaves apples in Jen’s Crocs, stuffed animals in the fridge, bananas on the T.V., tips the furniture and generally wreaks havoc in a playful, good-spirited nature. A couple years ago, the kids collaborated on a pretty brilliant trap. The bait was a pile of coins. On the morning of the 17th, we could see that the money was gone, and all that was left was a pair of leprechaun shoes. That’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to actually catching Larry.

Will is a very literal fellow. He has a single-mindedness that drives him to excel at skateboarding, skiing and golf. It’s that same single-mindedness that makes it almost impossible for him to see the forest for the trees. Trees, hell, he pretty much focuses on the pine needles or the dust on the pine needles. Jenny has a pretty broad lens. She’s four years younger than her brother. She’s going to figure out that Santa and Larry aren’t real long before her brother does. I keep thinking Will is going to catch on and figure out that I’m really Larry, Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. But last night, we were getting ready for bed, and Will panicked. “Dang. Tomorrow’s the 17th and my trap isn’t done!” He scurried around, grabbed a decorated paint can, a gawdy St. Paddy’s Day necklace, a handful of coins and some duct tape. He definitely works better under pressure. Jenny’s trap was completed a week ago and has been hanging – in the middle of the walkway between kitchen and dining room – from a nail. She loaded it with a – now stale – slice of whole wheat bread and a piece of biscotti. I figure I’ll wait a few years before telling her that the better enticement for a leprechaun would be a mug of beer.

As I’m watching Will race around the house, scrambling to put his trap together, I was asking myself some serious parenting questions. Am I perpetuating a fun myth and prolonging the fantasies of childhood, or am I out-and-out lying? I think I have been assuming that he would figure these myths out on his own. At this point, I picture him looking in the mirror while shaving, and having the sudden realization that his mom is really the guy in the big red suit.

I think it’s safe to say that most parents lay awake at night contemplating their parenting skills. I have a tape running through my mind that asks, “How much money should I be setting aside for the inevitable counseling they will need? Was this a good idea to home school? When do we have the sex talk? Should I tell him about sex before I tell him about Santa?” Continue reading →

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15
Mar 10

Just When You Think There’s a Glimmer of Hope…

“Ah, Dad… I’m actually 11 now. Yeah, I turned 11 on my birthday. In September? I’m not 10, I’m 11.” Mark and Will had gone to the sporting goods store to check out compound bows. Will and I had been in a couple days before, and Will wanted his dad’s opinion on the bows we had talked about. And since I’m completely clueless on the subject, it was a good idea to get another opinion, even if it was Mark’s. So they are talking to the sales guy, asking all the pertinent questions, and Mark says, “What type of bow would you recommend for a 10 year old?” Will later told me that even after he’d corrected his dad, Mark treated him like, “Geez, buddy, I’m your dad. You think I don’t know how old you are? Of course, I know how old my own son is.”

Will was pretty disgusted by the time he got home. So much so, in fact, that he fired off an email to his dad. The email said this:

“Today you were talking to the guy that was helping us with the archery and you said, ‘Do you have any compound bows for a ten yr old?’ By the way I’m eleven and since you are my dad I expect you to remember how old I am, and I especially do right now because I just had my birthday.”

I admit that I thought Will was overreacting a bit. I’m often asking the kids to give me a break. I explain that my ‘filing cabinets’ are jammed. The manila file folders are tattered and dog-eared, and covered with coffee stains. Some of the important papers are missing, some are filed in the wrong place, and some have yet to be filed. This is my way of telling them that I forget stuff. I’m old. Sue me. I do try really hard not to forget things, but it happens. Their dad is 12 years older than I am, so he forgets even more than I do. And, (don’t freak when you read this) I’ve suggested that they give their dad a break, once in awhile, too. It wouldn’t hurt for all of us to be a little more tolerant, right? (Said the accommodator.) Continue reading →

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14
Mar 10

What Did You Mean By That?

If you do not even understand what words say, how can you expect to pass judgment on what words conceal.

Hilda Doolittle

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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 →

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25
Feb 10

Narcissism and Annexation

I was up all night with Jenny. I’ll spare you the gory details, but she was afraid of falling back to sleep for fear she’d get sick again. I held her pretty much all night long while she drifted in and out of sleep. I looked at her long lashes and perfectly arched eyebrows, her long delicate fingers and the wisps of hair around her forehead. She’s not a baby anymore, but when she’s not feeling well, she seems as fragile and vulnerable as when she lived in my arms.

I had a lot of time to think last night, and Jen’s being ill reminded me of the scary time she spent in the hospital with pneumonia. She was four years old. It was the last weekend of ski season. Jenny’s fever started Friday afternoon. Mark worked his usual Saturday shift, and by Saturday morning I was running out of the fever fighting duo – Tylenol and Motrin. I called him at the shop and asked if it would be possible for him to leave to bring us some medicine. He said that he could leave long enough to run and get it, but that I would have to come down to the shop and get it from there. So I got two kids out of bed, buckled them into their cold car seats and made the 20 minute drive to the shop to get the meds.

He did come out to the car to make a show of checking on his daughter, and then we zoomed back home.

That afternoon, he was able to get out of work early enough to head up to the ski hill.

When he got home from skiing, he found me sitting on the couch next to a lethargic Jenny. I was able to manage the fever, so at this point I felt we were just letting the bug run its course. Quite frankly, it was easier to care for an ill child if Mark wasn’t around demanding to be center stage. Continue reading →

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21
Feb 10

A Bad Day Doing Anything Is Better Than A Good Day With A Narcissist

His knees make this strangely hollow sound when he smacks them together. Imagine taking two 2×4’s wrapped in fleece, and hitting them against each other. Will is a thin 11 year old. He doesn’t have a lot of padding, especially around his knees. He’s gone through an interesting series of nervous ticks. I don’t think of the knee-knocking as a nervous tick, but I’ve noticed that he does this when he’s playing a game on the computer, or when he’s talking on the phone with his dad.

We went skiing with grandpa yesterday. It was another great day at the ski hill. As tired as I am of the snow, it has made for some amazing conditions this year. Jenny and I don’t feel the need to ski every single day. Will doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with skiing every single day. As we were driving home from the hill yesterday, we were talking about what to do on Sunday. Will has a standing invitation to ski on Sundays with Mark. (Jenny sort of has a standing invitation. That means that Mark has invited her to ski on Sundays, but has implied that it will really be more fun for her when she can ski the more challenging runs. “Daddy loves to ski with you on the days you go with mommy.” That means he makes an appearance on the green run, exclaims loudly how his little girl is skiing so beautifully, and then ditches her for the black diamond runs. We all know that Mark won’t sacrifice a full day of skiing to spend it with Jenny on the easy stuff. The only reason Will has a standing invite is because he can ski everything on the hill now.) Jenny and I had made plans to go to the library this Sunday. Will was saying that he felt like maybe he should stay home and go to the library with us. Grandpa couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he said, “What? You can’t decide between skiing and the library? Are you feeling okay?” Will knows that sounds ridiculous. You’ve heard the expressions: “A bad day of golf is better than…” “A bad day of fishing is better than…” We always say, “A bad day of skiing is better than a good day of staying at home.” It’s more than a little embarrassing for Will to weigh the prospect of skiing versus a trip to the library.

Will called his dad last night, knees knocking, and he couldn’t decide what to do. “I can go skiing with dad and the snow will be awesome. I can practice those jumps I’ve been working on. The moguls on Muley will have a fresh dusting of powder. I know it will be great. But dad will make fun of me and hurt my feelings. I don’t want to deal with that.”

Here’s where I say all the mumbo jumbo that I’m supposed to say to help my son deal with a narcissistic dad. “Try to develop a tougher skin. Let what he says ping off your coat of armor. You can’t limit the things you do in life because you are afraid that someone will say something that hurts your feelings. Focus on the good/fun part of the day. Let what he says role off your back. Or, better yet, actually come out and tell him that what he says really hurts your feelings. Stick up for yourself. Be tough. Be like Bode Miller. Be strong and ski like crazy and ignore your dad.”

In addition to the knocking knees, I’ve noticed that Will always asks his dad if anyone else will be going with them on Sundays. I don’t know if Mark has noticed that Will only likes to go with him if someone else bums a ride. Will doesn’t like to be alone with Mark. Will and I talked about how dad says his sarcastic, cutting comments when no one else is around. No one else hears those comments. That’s why it is hard from grandpa to believe that Will wouldn’t want to go skiing. That’s why the guys at the ski hill may be thinking that Mark is a pretty good guy. They don’t hear what Mark says to Will on the chair lift when no one else is around. Continue reading →

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20
Feb 10

It’s All Talk

Big hat, no cattle.

Unknown

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19
Feb 10

Narcissists and Rules

Don’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 →