Posts Tagged: narcissistic behavior
9
Oct 09
Happiness
Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.
Thomas Merton
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 →
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.
4
Oct 09
You Can’t Make This Stuff Up
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.
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 →
1
Oct 09
Having Time
Time is a created thing. To say, ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.’
Lao-Tzu
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.)
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 →
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 →
19
Sep 09
It’s Just Stuff
I broke my favorite tea cup last night. It wasn’t an heirloom. I bought it at Ikea for $6. Tea tasted really good in that cup.
Coffee should be slurped from mugs. Tea should be sipped from thin cups.
Even my kids knew that I always made tea in that white cup. When it hit the floor and broke into pieces, Jenny immediately offered to glue it back together for me. I explained that it wasn’t a big deal. I have other cups. Will said, “Mom, I’ll buy you a new one.” They both got worked up about my tea cup.
Strangely, if their own stuff breaks or gets misplaced, they are both pretty non-chalant.
We have a favorite saying around here. When we have turned the house upside down looking for something, one of us will chime in with, “It’ll turn up.” I’m not sure why they were upset about my cup. As I write this, I wonder if they are thinking that I am as fragile as that tea cup. Continue reading →
18
Sep 09
Sunny-Side Up
I love cooking and eating. I’m no slouch in the kitchen. I’ve had several restaurant jobs that I enjoyed. My experience in professional kitchens would indicate that at least I know the technical aspects of cooking.
When I was a kid, if someone asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I didn’t have a clue. When I was older, I started to like the sound of having my own restaurant, but more than that, I wanted to be a wife and mom.
I spent a lot of years apologizing for not choosing an impressive profession. I went to college and graduated with a degree. Still, when I looked deep inside, it always felt like my calling was in making a fine home, being a loving wife, and being the best mom I could.
Cooking is an essential part of making a fine home. To this day, we eat (some of us enjoy) a home-cooked meal every night. Gathering around the dinner table is the glue that will keep us together when Will and Jenny become teenagers and discover how stupid I am, and how much they hate my guts.
I was not Martha Stewart when it came to meals. I was more of a Rachel Ray. I quickly learned that when you have a picky husband, and even pickier kids, there’s no point in killing yourself to make a seven-course meal. My goal was to put something yummy on the table, that was healthy, and satisfied the tastes of each of us. Scaling Mt. Everest would be easier, but I enjoyed the challenge. Continue reading →
13
Sep 09
You Can See ‘Em Comin’ From A Mile Away
I met a narcissist this weekend. I’ve been single, now, for three years. My family and friends keep asking me when I’m going to ‘get back out there’. I have to admit that I haven’t trusted my judgment. I’m an accommodator, by nature. What’s going to prevent me from getting back into another relationship with a narcissist? I’ve done my homework, but I’m still leery of repeating history. Up at my parents’ cabin, we’re all having fun playing cards with another friend. The kitchen door opens, and voila, there he is in all his glory. He was so self-assured that he didn’t even feel that it was necessary to knock first. He’s a long time friend of a family member. I’d only met him one other time, a long time ago.
He provided me with a whole bunch of clues, that in my old, uninitiated days, I would have totally ignored. He was impeccably dressed and coiffed for a guy who was by himself, out in the woods, on a weekend night. He’s going through a bitter divorce, and his ex is literally walking away from the gorgeous house, almost all the furnishings and the family cabin. (She’s desperate to leave.) He is completely clueless as to why she “just snapped.” He still loves her, and can’t see that he’s done anything wrong. He talked candidly, almost embarrassingly, about the details of their separation with a group of people that barely know him. Every one of his sentences was prefaced with, “I did …,” I am …,” I felt …,” “I have …,” and “I am going to …” He referenced his religion several times. (Typically, narcissists are very religious.) When someone attempted to get a word into the conversation, his response had nothing to do with what that person said. He had the stage, and didn’t plan on relinquishing that stage until he was done. He didn’t once take a breath or pause during his monologue to ask how anyone else had been or what anyone had been up to. He was handsome, charming, and completely thrilled with delighting us with his presence.
While he was going on about his life, a friend was standing behind him, facing me, motioning and pointing at the narcissist. Her eyebrows were raised, and she had a look on her face that clearly said, “Hubba Hubba.” I deliberately looked back at her and politely, but firmly shook my head, with a look that must have said, “NO WAY! NOT EVER!” Clearly, the friend was sucked in by his charm. I was almost repulsed by his presence. His behavior was all too familiar. When he left, the friend was stunned that I wouldn’t want to scoop him up and take him home. Been there.
By the next morning, I still hadn’t expressed any of my judgments about the previous night’s visitor. I didn’t allude to the fact that dating him would be history repeating itself. Mostly, I didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the family member that had known this fella for so long. I didn’t even bring up the subject. As we were standing at the wood stove cooking breakfast, my mom says, “So ….. another narcissist, huh?” I have to say that when she said that, I was able to erase all doubts about my ability to avoid another relationship with a narcissist. We have been through enough, and learned enough, by now, that we can see ’em comin’.
10
Sep 09
The Super Star
It was Jenny’s turn to be the Super Star of the week in first grade. That is a really big deal for a first grader. Her teacher set up a little revolving shrine for the Super Stars. The shrine would include some of the students’ favorite things, pictures, buddies, artwork, and notes from home. It gives the classmates a little glimpse into the home life of each kid, why they like certain things, and what their families looked like.
Jenny eagerly awaited her turn. She had already lined out the favorites that she wanted to bring to class. The teacher asked that she also include a couple photos of her family. Mark doesn’t get to the classroom often. He always said that anything to do with the kids and school was my job. I thought it was the right thing to do by letting Mark know that he may want to send a photo of himself to class with Jenny. We managed to get all the goodies to the teacher the week before Jenny would be the Super Star.
Jenny’s week arrived, and after the first day, she came home with some interesting stories about her dad. All her classmates wanted to meet him and see him in person. Jenny said he was the most popular dad in her class. I couldn’t imagine what could elicit such a reaction.
On the last day of Jenny’s week as Super Star, I found out why her father had become so popular. I picked Jenny up, prepared to bring home the items from her shrine. There, in the center of the display, was a 5×7 glossy photograph of bare-chested, grinning Mark, standing waist-deep in a raging river, wrestling a big fish.
What first grader wouldn’t be enthralled with a guy like that? Continue reading →
4
Sep 09
Individual Moments of Peace
This evening I sat for a spell on my front porch. We are enjoying the last few days of our summer, and today was particularly gorgeous. I see an image of me hanging from the letter r in the word summer, by my fingernails. I can’t let go of summer quite yet, there’s still a bit of juice left.
I was perched on the porch, feeling like I was suspended above myself.
Not a religious or zen thing, but a brief moment of stillness.
Those still moments can feel familiar, and foreign, all at the same time.
The temperature was perfect. Continue reading →
1
Sep 09
Narcissism and Secrecy
It’s an interesting contradiction that narcissists are very secretive. They shout from the rooftops about their accomplishments, their beauty and their talents. They’ll have you believe that they are fabulous, but they never let you get close enough to see for yourself. Maybe it’s because they know that if you get close, you’ll see that they aren’t any better than anyone else. They can’t risk the possibility of anyone discovering that their house is normal, their yard isn’t spectacular, their furnishings are ordinary. Perhaps they can’t control how much you’ll learn about them if you go to their home. You’ll see that their home isn’t as grand as they’ve led you to believe. Maybe you would discover their vulnerabilities or weaknesses, not that they’d ever admit to having any.
Mark and I seldom entertained. No one from work was invited over. He would get irritable if I suggested having anyone over for dinner. I’m the type that likes to sit on the deck and share a glass of iced tea with the neighbor gal. I never had to ask her to leave when Mark got home. She could tell by his demeanor, that once he was home, there was no reason for her to stay. It was the same with phone calls. I always had to make excuses if a girlfriend should call while Mark was home. It wasn’t that we would be busy doing anything, it’s that he didn’t want to risk my telling her how normal we were.
The whole time I knew him, I had this feeling that there was more of him to get to know. I always felt like he just wasn’t letting me in. I sensed that I had to pass a test before he would grant me further entrance. Every time I failed to meet a standard, I was held at arm’s length. He kept his inner thoughts and feelings a secret. It made me try harder to get to know him. It was a challenge to try to get to the real Mark. I was only allowed to see the Mark that he wanted me to see.
I used to think that he knew me better than anyone else. I realize now that he knew me only to the extent that he was interested in knowing me. He knew me enough to push the right buttons so that he’d get his narcissism fed.
