Posts Tagged: narcissism
10
Nov 10
What Should They Be?
If we would amend the world, we should mend ourselves; and teach our children to be, not what we are, but what they should be.
William Penn
5
Nov 10
Canoeing Over Class 5 Rapids
I never got the hang of water skiing. I tried. I only ever managed to cling to the rope while I was drug around the lake, ending up with extra long arms to prove how hard I tried.
I’ve kayaked once, canoed a few times, and rafted more times than I care to mention.
I’m more the lazy canoe or solo kayak type.
Perhaps I am a control freak, or maybe it’s just that I don’t like being spilled over the edge of some rubber flotation device, forced to drink a gallon of river plankton, while scraping the flesh off my shins, all by noon.
I thought of my relationship to water when I took my kids down by the river yesterday to do a little fresh air home schooling. Continue reading →
22
Oct 10
Permission To Move On
The Universe wrapped her arm around me Wednesday evening. I felt her warm breath on my ear.
This is what I heard her say:
“Listen, Honey, you’ve done a fine job. I’m proud of you for doing your best. I know this was hard for you. You got through to him as much as you possibly can. He’s injured, Dear, and you can’t do anything about it. You knew that when you married him, and you know that now.
You can rest easy in the knowledge that you have done as much as you possibly can. I don’t expect any more from you. Now you must focus your energies on caring for yourself and your children. You have avoided the negativity as long as you could. You tried tenderness and compassion.
It’s time for you to move on.”
__________ Continue reading →
20
Oct 10
The Thing Is…
The thing is… he didn’t physically abuse me. He didn’t drink or gamble or spend every weekend golfing or hunting or fishing. He didn’t cheat on me. At least I never had concrete proof that he cheated on me, unless I count his on-going affair with himself.
The thing is… he didn’t particularly like me. But then the world is populated with lots of married couples who don’t like each other.
The thing is… he didn’t embrace the whole having a baby thing. But lots of guys aren’t interested in going to doctor visits, listening to heart beats or shopping for onsies. I suppose, too, that lots of guys don’t want their wives to breast feed. Lots of guys don’t enjoy giving their babies a bath or reading to them every night.
The thing is… he didn’t listen to me when I told him I was frightened that our marriage was failing. But then I assumed that all guys hate the idea of going to counseling. When I cried and told him that I was lonely living in his house, and that I was afraid that he wasn’t connecting with me or the kids, he said I had problems.
He told me I was depressed, and that I needed to see someone. Continue reading →
17
Oct 10
It’s All Perception
“Clean up this mess! How can we expect to have people over if this is what this place looks like? Are we Pigs, here? Can’t we put some order to this place?”
That is not what I said. It is what I have thought. I’m careful to not call it a ‘mess’, or ‘junk’. I know she loves all her stuff.
Yes, it makes me crazy.
I can be heard saying, “Okay, I’ve had enough. We need to find where this stuff lives. It’s my house, too. I love that you feel comfortable enough to explore, create, play and be, but at some point, I want to walk through the living room.”
I am done making excuses to friends. Continue reading →
14
Oct 10
Drip, Drip, Drip
This chronically, unresolved stressful stuff with Mark is like a leaky faucet.
When we’re busy, we don’t hear the constant dripping. When the music is turned up loud, I’d swear the plumber had been here today. When we’re having dinner at mom’s, I might comment that I really ought to call a plumber, but 20 minutes into our visit, I’ve forgotten about the faucet.
I’ve asked several friends to recommend a good plumber. I’ve checked the yellow pages.
When lessons are completed, the skateboard rests, and Barbie is tucked away for the day, the dripping is relentless. We can hear it from every corner of the house. When the three of us are tucked safely into our beds, all we can hear is the incessant DRIPPING. We’ve gotten quite comfortable sleeping with pillows pressed to our ears.
When I’m lying in bed listening to the drip, I am convinced I need to call a plumber. I know that if I attacked that faucet with a wrench, we’d have a geyser on our hands. We’d have a flood instead of an annoying drip, drip, drip. But, damn, plumbers cost a lot of money.
The three of us looked for a new house the other night. We were on the internet, looking at new houses with shiny faucets, in new towns, in far away states. Why does moving to a new state frighten me less than calling a plumber and tackling this drip head on? Continue reading →
8
Oct 10
What Was I Thinking?
After six months of almost daily, intense togetherness, he told me he didn’t like seeing me in skirts and boots.
I thought it was sweet that he felt comfortable enough with me, to feel that it was okay to tell me that he’d like me to change my wardrobe.
After we’d been together eight months, he started saying derogatory things about my family and friends. I’d start to gently defend my peeps, and he’d try to convince me that his view was accurate.
I thought he wanted the best for me. I thought that since he was so amazing, maybe his view of my family and friends was accurate.
He didn’t like to go out to restaurants, go to movies, or spend money on entertainment. He would question my purchase of a book, CD, or magazine. Continue reading →
4
Oct 10
What Would You Do?
The attorney (that I will not be retaining) wondered if I’d considered asking Mark if there might be a way for us to resolve this situation without incurring ridiculous court costs. She wondered if there might be a way for us to agree on a parenting schedule.
I wanted to say, “What color is the sky in your world? Don’t you think we’ve tried that? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I have this kind of money to spend?”
But because I continue to try, and because it certainly wouldn’t make things worse to try one more time, I emailed Mark.
I told him I’d found an attorney. I told him that the attorney strongly suggested that we seek more counseling for the kids. She believes we need to get to the bottom of the allegations before determining a parenting plan. I asked if he thought there was a way we could do this outside of a court room.
Thirty hours later, I received an uncharacteristically short email from Mark that read, “Do what you need to do. I’ll do the same.” Continue reading →
1
Oct 10
I’m Not Crazy
You can’t stand that sound anymore. It’s driving you crazy. The car has been making a noise – a thudda-thudda-ping sound. It’s been making that sound for awhile. The kids hear it over their arguments about which radio station to tune in. Your mom has heard it when you take her to lunch. The guy at the gas station has heard it. The neighbors heard it.
So you take it to a mechanic. He drives it around the block and says, “Ma’am, cars make noises. You can’t drive a car and not expect it to make a noise. I’m the expert, I know how cars sound. Your car is fine. This is what you should expect. Here are your keys.”
You start to say, “But, no, really. I can hear it. It sounds like this. It’s making that sound all the time. You really don’t know. You have to hear it.”
He loses patience and says, “Ma’am, cars are noisy. Have a good day.”
You get back in the car, and it makes the thudda-thudda-ping sound again, as you drove away in search of a new mechanic. Continue reading →
25
Sep 10
On Tailspins and Rug-Pulling
It usually takes about 36 hours.
If you call me somewhere in that 36 hours, I’ll have forgotten to smile before answering the phone. My voice will immediately tell you that I’m in the depths of the funk. I’m down in the dark of a deep well. I don’t have any reserves for pretending to be cheerful – for using my ‘Hey-I’m-Glad-You-Called’ voice, when I pick up the phone.
I’ll be hoping there are decent leftovers in the fridge, so I won’t have to come up with an idea for dinner.
Better yet, I’ll send mom a mental telepathy message that says, “Please invite us for dinner tonight.”
She usually responds. Continue reading →
22
Sep 10
If Only…
he’d quit insisting that it’s about wanting to see the kids more, and just admit that he wants to funnel less of his money in our direction.- he’d be honest and admit that he wants to modify our decree to better suit his schedule and financial picture.
- he’d realize that if he had a significant other, he wouldn’t have to harass us.
- he would get a significant other.
- he’d fall off a tall bridge into a shallow creek.
- I could quit letting the uncertainty of the outcome of this latest wrinkle put me in a crappy mood.
- I’d remember the blessings and bright spots instead of letting the fear cloud everything.
- we could move far away without the threat of someone trying to track us down.
- everyone in my family believed I was a genius for making the choice to home school Will and Jen.
- we’d actually had a summer and we weren’t already heading into winter.
- I could persuade Will to spend more time golfing and less time skateboarding.
- I hadn’t wasted so much time encouraging my kids to call or see their dad.
- I could get the book done, sell a kgillion copies and tell Mark where to put his child support.
- I didn’t have to spend my money to get us out of another mess with Mark.
- all the people I love would never be dealt any more than they can gracefully handle.
- the highly recommended attorney would return my call.
- I could wake up and not have to think about Mark.
- I could get Jenny to eat whatever I cooked.
- the three of us were invisible.
*Jenny was planning her Halloween costume. She gathered the pieces and then deliberately placed them on the living room floor. I had to take a picture. I kept looking at the outfit resting there, waiting for someone to put it on. Suddenly I thought, “That’s it! If we were invisible, he’d never be able to bug us again.”
What are your if onlys? Humor me, please. I could use it. ;)
21
Sep 10
Trying Not To Get Burned
Will’s genetic coding includes a large dose of pyrotechnics. He was interested in matches at an early age. Because I liked living with a roof over my head, I opted to teach him about matches when he first asked. I figure the more kids have their curious natures addressed, the more they’ll learn, and the less potential problems we’ll have. Better he learn about matches while I’m with him, than while he’s sneaking around by himself in the garage, surrounded by gas cans and lighter fluid.
I’ll go out on a limb and suggest that most boys are fascinated by fire.
To this day, Jenny has not lit a match. I’ve asked if she might be interested. I have suggested that she even light her birthday candles.
She and I are a lot alike, we like a cozy fire, we don’t feel the need to light it.
I will admit that I have added fuel to fires – literally and figuratively. When it comes to Mark, I don’t try to light anything on purpose. I don’t call to rag on him. I don’t send him nasty emails. I don’t stop by his business to make a scene in front of his employees. I want to avoid the chaos and the fire. Continue reading →
16
Sep 10
At Least He Doesn’t Live With Us
I play mental tricks on myself. When we wake to nine inches of new snow and a temperature of 15 degrees, I tell myself, “Hey, we have lots of firewood, the furnace is working and the skiing will be great.” When our typically bright blue sky is overcast and gray for the second day in a row, I grouse a little and remind myself that I’m getting lots of chores done. When my kids complain about having to do lessons in the morning instead of riding their bikes or skateboarding, I remind them, “You know, you guys could be sitting in a desk at public school for seven hours.”
I try to find the positive in a less than rosy scenario. It’s a coping mechanism – a self-protective measure to ward off the funk.
Sometimes the scenario requires that I be more creative than usual.
Last night when Jenny was crying at the dinner table because her dad wouldn’t let her bring her favorite fuzzy yellow blanket home to our house from his house, I struggled to find a silver lining on her cloud. I scraped the bottom of the barrel looking for a positive comment, when Will remarked that he, “almost threw up at Dad’s house,” because his dad made him read a four-page letter attesting to his own greatness before he’d let his son open his birthday present. When the kids told me that they had to ask their dad to feed them lunch, I reminded myself that at least they’d arrived home safely.
Even a wise, older-than-her-years eight year old can’t see the logic in not letting a little girl have a cherished blankie. All she could think was that she must not be a very good kid if her dad wouldn’t let her have her blanket. What twelve year old boy needs a lecture on the greatness of his father, before he can open his birthday present? “Mom, he’s trying to show me he’s wonderful by making me read this letter, then he hands me a cool pocket knife, and that’s supposed to make everything fine?” Continue reading →
2
Sep 10
The Great Escape
I’m looking out on the pond. The tall grasses framing the pond barely sway. The butterflies dance from the tips of the grasses and occasionally dip to skim the surface of the water. The pond is so calm it is difficult to discern where the grass meets its reflection. The quiet is heavy in a comforting, secure way. I feel safe and serene and untouchable.
The kids are content. There are frogs to catch and fish to fry. The dog begs to play. The forest beckons to be explored.
All of this won’t last. We will have to go home.
I foolishly believed that by divorcing Mark, I’d be able to escape his bizarre treatment. I thought the kids would be spared his picking and annexing.
The truth is that while we don’t deal with Mark on a daily basis, we can’t completely escape from any kind of relationship with him. We can’t avoid the fact that Mark is Jenny and Will’s dad. We can’t stop the visits altogether. We endure the visits by comforting ourselves with the knowledge that each visit comes to an end. He will not be tucking the kids in bed at night. Continue reading →
