humor « Surviving Narcissism

Posts Tagged: humor

You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — Comments Off
12
Oct 09

The World’s Best Boss

This story dates back to when I was still married and working for Mark. That means it pre-dates my education in narcissism. That also means that I had no explanation for why he would undertake such a ruse.

At the time, our little town’s local paper was running a contest. The contest would determine who, in our town, was the Best Boss. Employees were to write in and nominate their boss. The contest had been running for awhile. I had been wondering if any of Mark’s employees might nominate him. After all, he was a very charming boss. He seemed to be well-liked. He had a handful of employees who had been with him for several years.

A few weeks into the contest, I was in Mark’s office taking care of a few duties. He’d been working furiously on a project for a couple days, and hadn’t said much about it. I asked him what was requiring so much of his attention. He explained that he was entering the paper’s contest for Best Boss. I said, “I guess I misunderstood. I thought you were supposed to be nominated by one of your employees.” He explained that he wasn’t going to wait for an employee to nominate him. And besides, “None of my employees would give enough details or information to adequately explain why I am such a great boss.” He was serious when he said this. He went on to say that he didn’t think any of them were articulate enough to write up a letter that would be good enough to win the competition. I vividly remember standing in his office during this conversation. I must have looked stunned. I was stunned. I was thinking that, in the best of cases, you might ask your wife to pen such a letter. In the worst of cases, you might stoop to asking an employee to write the letter. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he would write the letter himself. Above all, that was cheating. And maybe more importantly, that was incredibly vain, conceited, self-centered, and egotistical. More than anything, I was embarrassed.

I knew people that worked at the paper. What was I going to say if someone ever commented on the letter that my husband wrote for the competition, about himself. Surely he couldn’t win, based on the fact that he was writing for himself. Why wasn’t he embarrassed by this? How could he be so full of himself, that he wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to brag about himself? I wondered if there was something wrong with me. How many other bosses would write a letter bragging about how great they were to work for?

He actually won the competition. I still can’t believe that. Perhaps he wrote an articulate letter. I read the letter. I have blocked most of what that letter said from my memory. I felt dirty reading it. Maybe there weren’t any other entries. Maybe his charming reputation glossed over the fact that he’d written the letter himself. There are still so many out there that are bamboozled by his charm. Continue reading →

Quotes — 1 Comment
5
Oct 09

Attitude

Choose your attitude.

A. Rausch

Moving On — Comments Off
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.

Opportunistic / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 2 Comments
4
Oct 09

You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

boots were made for walkin' The day the three of us packed our boxes and moved out of Mark’s house was also my Grandma’s 90th birthday. There was a gathering at the nursing home, and the kids and I loaded the boxes in the car, and headed to the birthday party. That sounds bizarre. The fact that we put the boxes in the car, and went on with the plans of our day was a real indication that my mind was made up. I couldn’t put the decision off because of a 90th birthday party, so we packed and went to the party.

My dad was there. He’s a real piece of work. There’s a whole blog’s worth of stuff to say about my dad. And because there are divorces and re-marriages in my family, there were current spouses, ex-spouses, and ex-ex-spouses at this affair. I am not close with my dad, and I don’t see him often even though we live in the same town. A relative once told me that my dad had mentioned to her that he had seen me crossing the street downtown and there were two little kids with me. My dad actually asked the relative who those kids were. He had met them, of course, but he has so little to do with us that I think he sometimes forgets that I have kids. Anyway, I didn’t want him to be the last family member to know that I had decided to leave Mark, and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again, any time soon, so I figured I’d find a moment at the party to quickly explain my plans. The kids and I were getting ready to leave the party, so I asked my dad if I could talk with him out in the hallway for a second.

We go out into the hallway and I tell him that I’ve decided to leave Mark and that the kids and I would be staying at mom’s for awhile. He looks at me, his eyes well up with tears and he says, “You go back in there and you tell Mary that she should have never left me.” I couldn’t help it, but I heard myself say, “Huh? Mary? Mary who left you six years ago?” And he sobs, “Yeah, Mary has no idea how she hurt me. You go tell her to come out here and talk to me.”

I just walked away and let him stand there feeling sorry for himself. I wanted to say, “I’ll be fine, dad. Don’t worry about me, dad. Don’t worry about Will and Jenny, Dad. We’ll be just fine. We don’t need anything.” But all I could do was walk away. You have got to admire the kind of talent, skill, cunning, whatever you want to call it, that someone has to have to turn another person’s hardship into something that is all about them.

Quotes — Comments Off
3
Oct 09

As I Am

Take me as I am… For the woman that I am

Carly Simon

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 →

Lack of Empathy — Comments Off
1
Oct 09

Narcissists Never Change

Ever have those days when you walk through your bedroom to get something, pass by your bed, and gaze at it longingly? You would just give anything to jump in, have the covers surround you, and not have to deal with anymore that life has to dish out. Today was one of those days.

The previous two nights, Mark has been over to have some “family” discussions. We have been re-evaluating our choice of school for Will and Jenny. Mark has been out of the loop, so I figured we better bring him into the dilemma. He swooped in, took his role as patriarch, and began to attempt to solve the problem. And that’s a good thing. The kids need to see him take an interest in their lives. However, I could feel myself getting progressively more tense as these talks got longer. By the second night, he had gathered more info from other sources, and he was ready to enlighten us. He was ready to take action. We needed to set up a time to check out a different school. He asked if I was going to make the call. I suggested that since he had already established a contact, and since his work schedule was more demanding, he ought to make the call and I would work around his schedule. He explained that he doesn’t hear well on the phone, and if I had questions, he wouldn’t hear the answers. (He has had issues with his hearing since I’ve known him, but his vanity prevents him from doing anything about it.) I told him that I’d just ask the questions at the school. This was on a Wednesday night. He was all jazzed about getting this handled. When I suggested that he make the call the following morning, and schedule something for the next day’s afternoon, he balked. “Oh, I can’t possibly be available until Monday. I’ve way too much going on at work right now.” Once again, the kids couldn’t possibly trump his agenda.

Tonight when he called, he was loudly munching on carrots, and distractedly asked about our day. When I said that we were all a little blue because of this school dilemma he said, “Why? What happened? Aren’t they happy there?” What? Wasn’t he here the last two nights, telling us what to do and how to fix this? I guess he figured he’d milked this situation for all he could get. He was bored with our little crisis and had already moved on to something more interesting.

I’m headed for the comfort of my bed-a little earlier tonight than usual. Just when I think maybe he’s turned the corner and he’s starting to have a little empathy for his kids, I get jerked back to reality with another slap in the face. On the bright side, I’ll never run out of material for this blog. (Note to self: See the post on Forgiveness.)

Moving On — Comments Off
9
Sep 09

Survival Through Humor

I had a minor meltdown this morning. I locked myself in the bathroom, turned on the ceiling fan, and cried. We had been scurrying to get ready for school and work – the usual weekday morning mayhem. There wasn’t anything unusual about this morning. You never know when you’ve approached the end of your rope. At least I never know. I was brushing my teeth and the bathroom sink wouldn’t drain, and I lost it.

It’s not a big deal, I’ve fixed the drain before. Some days I just cannot handle one more thing.

This was not the plan. I was supposed to be happily married, raising two beautiful kids. I didn’t sign up to be both mom and dad.

Most days I wouldn’t trade this new life for anything. Most days I can take it all in stride. But, some days I am tired and feel like I can’t handle one more chore or one more demand. As difficult as it can be, it is worlds away from my old life.

Now when I flop on the bed at the end of the day, my exhaustion comes from attempting to cross things off of my list. When I decide to be done for the day, I don’t have someone expecting more from me. The hamster in the spinning wheel is pretty content when she’s in control of her own wheel. How happy is that hamster when someone else is doing the spinning? Continue reading →

Lack of Empathy / The World Revolves Around Me / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 26 Comments
30
Aug 09

Narcissists And Gift-Giving

Somewhere in the last week of January, 2006, Mark came home from work and emptied three plastic grocery bags on the kitchen counter. I could tell by the look on his face that he was quite proud of himself. With shoulders back and head held high he said, “Well, I’m not going to get in trouble on Valentine’s Day this year. I had to pick up some stuff for work, so I thought I’d get you crossed off the list.”

I said, “Wow, Valentine’s Day is three weeks away and you already got your shopping done.” All the while I was thinking to myself, geez you might wanna wrap something, or keep it hidden for a couple weeks.

No, he needed to bask in the glow of his accomplishment. And, he needed to get Valentine’s Day crossed off the list, so we could all get back to the important things, like making sure he was our top priority.

“Here,” he says, “your favorite chocolates. A nice big box of ’em. And there’s a card in there somewhere, too. Go ahead and find it and I’ll sign it when I get a chance.”

Will took one look at the box of chocolates and said, “Hey Dad, those caramel chocolates are your favorites. Mom likes that yucky dark chocolate stuff.” Continue reading →

Moving On — 7 Comments
26
Aug 09

Crabbiness

solitude I know. I know. My last post was about Enlightenment.

You may be thinking I must not be enlightened if I still get crabby.

Enlightenment is a process. Crabbiness is a part of that process.

The good news is that I’m not nearly as crabby as I used to be. (My kids might take issue with that last statement.)

I remember Mark telling me, “Maybe you should look into taking St. John’s Wort. How come you sleep all the time? You seemed more energetic when we were first going together.” Continue reading →

Child of Narcissist / Moving On — 3 Comments
25
Aug 09

Enlightenment

It had been about six weeks since the kids and I had moved out. Mark and I were still going to counseling. At one point, he told me that he was convinced that my leaving was a temporary thing. He figured I’d get a little space, have a chance to miss him, and come running back with the realization that he was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

He believed I would come to my senses and see what was best for all of us, especially Will and Jenny.

I hadn’t completely given up, but I knew things would have to change dramatically before I would give any thought to the possibility of moving back.

Somewhere during this time I had picked up a copy of Real Simple Magazine and read an article about narcissism. I vividly remember handing my mom the magazine and telling her to read the article. “Mom! She’s talking about your parents.”

Moments later, mom hands back the magazine and says, “Honey, this is your husband.” Continue reading →

Quotes — Comments Off
23
Aug 09

All The Messes

It’s not the tragedies that kill us, it’s the messes.

Dorothy Parker

Lack of Empathy / Moving On / Random Observations / Seeing My Path / You Might Be a Narcissist If ... — 3 Comments
23
Aug 09

The Narcissist As Protector

Last night I was reading in bed. Reading in bed was frowned upon when I was married. Bedtime was meant for one thing and one thing only – service. We didn’t have a T.V. in our bedroom for the same reason.

Now, in my happy little sanctuary, I often read and watch T.V. in bed at the same time – a sweet, simple pleasure. I was reading a wonderful novel by Elizabeth Berg.

Recently, my 90 year old grandmother was visiting. We were sitting around the table talking about books. She asked what I’d been reading. When I told her mostly self-help books, she rolled her eyes and said, “You ought to read something by Elizabeth Berg.” Guess there’s not much point in self-help books when you’re 90.

Elizabeth Berg is the kind of author that makes you feel like you are sitting down for coffee and stories with an old friend.

Back to last night – I was engrossed in the reading and I saw something scurry across my bedroom carpet and head under my bed. It was a ridiculously large spider – so big, in fact, that it had to duck it’s head to get under the bed. I threw my book at it. That didn’t work. I grabbed the broom to try and get at it. Nothing. Continue reading →

Quotes — Comments Off
22
Aug 09

Sit Back And Wait

Just let others do what they’re going to do. Your best strategy is to go for the old “give them enough rope and see what happens” rather than bailing them out.

Author unknown

Control — 2 Comments
17
Aug 09

Sweeping the Floor

sweeping I would not win any awards for my housekeeping skills. Quite frankly, it would sadden me if I learned that awards were actually given out for such a thing. I am not a slob, but I value hanging with my kids, reading, gardening, and fresh air over a clean floor. I don’t think my less-than-perfect domestic skills are a character flaw. We live in our house for a few days at a stretch, and then I hit a wall and we straighten things up and “pretend that we aren’t messy,” as my daughter likes to say. No one would eat off of our floor, but that’s why we have tables.

So while I may not get the award for cleanest floors, I did set a record for numbers of failed attempts at getting the floor perfectly clean. My ex was incredibly patient with me when it came to training me how to properly clean hardwood floors. We would have lengthy discussions (lectures) on technique, cleansers and tools. I’m sure he was thinking that even a trained monkey could do a better job than I; and if he could create a tool that even a monkey could operate, surely I would be able to get the job done.

That was our routine. I would get out of bed in the morning, he would head off to work, and I would begin the task of implementing both the instructions and the proper tools for making his hardwoods beautiful. I say “his” because in all the time I lived there, it always felt like it was his house. It got to the point where I would get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach about 15 minutes before he was due home. I knew that I had failed, once again, and that I would have to endure another lecture.

He never raised his voice. He didn’t even look at me crossly or give me some sort of resigned sigh that would indicate the hopelessness of my attempts. He would talk to me like your second grade teacher talked to you when you just couldn’t get your a’s to look like an a with the proper curve of the ending tail.

Remember how she would patiently explain that you must make the a have that tail so that it is properly distinguished from the o? In second grade that tone of voice is warm and comforting. Coming from your husband, that tone of voice is grating and irritating, mostly because you realize that your husband doesn’t think you are any more intelligent than a second grader. Continue reading →