Category Archives: Narcisstic/Sociopath – Emails and Self Disclosure
All I can say is that I am putting 110% into Christmas this year and it is going to be magical!
I’ve got my groove on, my blonde locks are back, I’ve got that glow and a twinkle in my smile.
We will be celebrating Christmas in the snowy wonderland of Denver!
I’ve already starting packing, long johns, socks, snow boots, jacket, mittens, etc. etc.
Took Stella to the groomer and she and Brandi are ready to hang out with her cousins on the ranch!
The birds are chirping, the butterflies are fluttering and I just can’t wipe this grin off my face!
Just remember it is not the presents that make it special, but the laughter, the feeling of love, and the togetherness of friends and family that make Christmas special!
I am a highly educated woman with an expansive vocabulary. There I said it. Believe me when I say, that took a lot of guts.
Observing social behavior is one of the most pleasurable activities. Some could care less about the social mores of society and tend to avoid them at all costs. However, there are a few very educated people who use these as tools to observe social behavior (mostly bullshit). Curiously people unconsciously give away their hidden agenda without even knowing it. Their attempt to deceive becomes so obviously apparent it actually makes them look foolish. If you just sit quietly, listen and observe you will find the answer is actually between the lines. Just remember, infinite patience gets you immediate results.
Your mind has to innately organize information constantly. Every little piece of information has a place, typically people like to start somewhere in the middle and work their way out. Having the ability to disseminate minor details that later become a major detail is essential. Sometimes you will feel like Neo in the Matrix, knowing something was off but you just can’t readily put your finger on it. Everybody has different levels of consciousness and awareness, so just sit tight. (there is no need to stick your finger in it)
Instead of being analytical, it really comes down to the brass tacks of having a bullshitsky meter. Which I now proclaim to have a war against and am finding it to be a completely unwinnable situation. Everyone seems to have their own private bullshitorium, one they are selling tickets to, even if you are not buying, they seem to lure you in only to rob you blind.
Bullshit oozes out of ones mouth like diarrhea, it also rears its ugly head in body language, like stepping in a pile of it. Everyone has a good reason and they will always have a real reason for doing or saying something. For me, I always want to give the real reason, not just a bullshit good reason. Bullshit (lies) destroy trust, the binding force in all relationships. Bullshit is defined as inventions made in ignorance of the facts, where the primary goal is to protect oneself or gain a benefit (cost benefit analysis, hmmm). It is a form of unnecessary deception committed in the gray area between polite white lies and complete malicious fabrications. Why do some want to confront the bullshitter? Has the bullshitter ever once admitted “thank you for pointing out to me that I’m inferior as a human being.”
To detect bullshit you have to swallow some cynicism, and add internal doubt to everything you hear. Socrates based his philosophy around the recognition, and expectation, of ignorance. It is far more dangerous to assume people know what they are talking about, than it is to assume they don’t and let them prove you wrong. So if you want to appear educated, be like Socrates, assume people are unaware of their own ignorance and politely, warmly, probe to sort out the difference.
And always remember the definition of a bullshitter:
- Foolish, deceitful, or boastful language.
- Something worthless, deceptive, or insincere.
- Insolent talk or behavior.
- bull·shit also bull·shat (-shăt) or bull·shit·ted (-shĭt′ĭd), bull·shit·ting, bull·shits
- To speak foolishly or insolently.
- To engage in idle conversation.
To attempt to mislead or deceive by talking nonsense.
Very angry; incensed.
Used to express extreme displeasure or exasperation.
Life is good. I feel like I am starting to finally get into my own groove. Doing things for myself, doing things that I want to do and learning Spanish, it just doesn’t get any better than that!
Friday evening was enjoyed with great company, Wyatt Earp, my straight shooter friend did not let me down. As he strolled into the Cadillac bar, he took his seat where he could view the entire room, of course I was sitting there tap, tap, tapping on my phone and then greeted him with a lackadaisical conformist greeting of “Hey, it is good to see you”, mwa, kiss on the right cheek, mwa, kiss on the left cheek.
Our conversation was delightful with the same brutal honesty that I have come to expect. We talked about relationships and manifesto’s women whom he has dated have sent to him on what is wrong with him. While he admits to being an asshole, and of course, I concurred that yes, at times he can be, it is not the type of asshole you would typically encounter. With a name like Wyatt Earp, one would have some level or arrogance and contempt for outlaws.
“He was not an angel,” former Tombstone resident George Parsons wrote in 1928, “but his faults were minor ones, and he never killed a man who did not richly deserve it. The real Wyatt led a life that was authentically Western. He was a gambler and a saloon keeper, and he enjoyed the charms of several women. Most of all, he was as tough as men came when toughness earned respect. He was loved and hated, a man who drew strong allegiances and made devoted enemies. Wyatt Earp was a natural leader with a coterie of followers who always believed he did right. He believed it too.”
Do you think if we write manifesto’s, and I am just as guilty, we should preface a negative with at least a positive? You know like your boss does when he calls you into his office? Read on, I will answer this question when we get to Sunday.
My friend Brittany Spears just came in my office and informed me she threw a co-worker under the bus on Friday, but waited until she was about to leave for the day. That was an asshole move, and yes, she can be an asshole too.
Saturday, I had the most incredible massage. This guy worked me over, I could feel the stress balls release. I knew that I was going to pay dearly the next couple of days for this guilty pleasure and I can still feel it today.
I got home and watched 7 straight hours of NARCOS. I’m not going to lie, I am hooked! My Spanish vocabulary has increased 10-fold and I am not sure if that is good or bad. I had no idea of the mayhem and chaos happening in Columbia during the 80s and 90s. It was pure anarchy.
- Bomba, Bomba, Bomba,
- Ustedes eligen, ¿plata o plomo?
- Coma mierda. Coma. Mierda.
- el patron
- Bien o qué?
- Qué más?
- hijo de puta
- hija de puta
Pablo Escobar, in my opinion was a true follower of the Machiavellian way (the handbook for gangsters):
- States can be republics or kingdoms, old or new. The easiest to rule are old hereditary kingdoms, lands that are passed down from father to son. Basically, instead of passing along their 2001 Toyota Camry, your parents give you a kingdom. He surely was striving to rule the new kingdom!
- You’d have to be an idiot to have problems ruling one of these. Because they’re so easy to rule, they are hard to take. The best way to take old hereditary kingdoms is by killing the old monarchy. Every last one. To say the least he seemed to be successful at taking people out at every level!
- Mercenaries and auxiliaries (people you pay to fight for you) are a waste of time and dangerous, to boot. If you have a strong army, and your people love you, no one can touch you. They won’t even think about it. He earned the love of the people of Columbia and truthfully no one could touch him!
- On that topic, you need to run your army, so war needs to be on your mind all day every day. You need to be on the cutting edge of war techniques and technology. He was always consumed with stirring shit up and then negotiating, and endless cycle of entertainment for him, a way for him to feel importanto!
- You also need violence to take self-governed republics, because they will rebel if you don’t crush them. Just remember not to keep being violent. Get it over with so you can start being nice and people won’t hate you. Never let your people hate you. Lie, cheat, steal—just don’t become hated. Unfortunately this ultimately led to his demise; however, he was able to lie, cheat and steal for a long time and the people still loved him!
Sunday morning was the best! I grabbed a cup of Starbucks, I came home, watched videos of my professor talking about Leadership and Management in an office and took my final exam. Here is what I learned – high functioning employees prefer specific instruction; however, in order to get the maximum performance from them you should give high functioning employees ambiguous direction because they will always give you more than expected. Low functioning employees should be given specific instruction; however, they prefer ambiguous direction. In my learning process my eyes are continually forced wide open. Is this manipulation? Are our managers really assholes learning the system to get unknowing and unsuspecting employees to do their work?
I also learned, what I’ve already known, that shit rolls downhill. No matter the situation, the lowest guy on the totem pole will always take it up the ass. If you look at the Exxon Valdez oil spill, the CEO said he would take responsibility. Then the focus flowed down to the captain of the ship who was sleeping off an alcohol bender. The captain turned the ship over to an unlicensed mate who was tasked with piloting the ship and ultimately paid the price for the spill. When we delegate responsibility as an authority are we still ultimately responsible? The more distance executives are to a situation the less likely they are culpable for any wrong doing. Just look at Lou Pai, he was actually one of the Smartest Men in the Room.
Funny, Machiavelli reared his ugly head again in my weekend, in fact, he was a realist who understood the limits and uses of power. He believed that leaders should always mask their true intentions, avoid inconsistency, and “frequently act against mercy, against faith, against humanity, against frankness, against religion, in order to preserve the state.” But what does that really mean? If you study management theory in conjunction with political theory, you will begin to realize that you are studying the same subject. I encourage you to re-read my bullet points above – you may see a disturbing correlation.
Which brings me back to Friday, aren’t we all really just assholes in some form or fashion? It might just be the level of assholedness that one possesses, but ultimately do we really think like Machiavelli to some degree?
My life married to a diagnosed narcissist, alcoholic and prescription pill abuser – his lies and inappropriate behavior:
His giant chick-let two front teeth and his fake hair (He used his daughters entire college fund to pay for 2 hair transplants – I still receive letters from the Bosley Men’s Hair Club addressed to Mucus (a nickname kids used to call him when he was a kid, and I kind of like it now)).
(this is what he should look like, if nature had her way – as you can see, he really does have chick-let teeth)
Now before any of you say, “you are so mean”, please let me preface this by the many lies he told anyone who would listen and his chaotic antics (this is just the tip of the iceberg, I will keep this updated):
“I am autistic.” (This is one of my favorites, he actually told me he was autistic. Sadly I bought books on how to have a relationship with someone who was autistic. It would be nice if all the autistic people in the world would back him into a corner and give him a piece of their mind)
“I am an astronaut. I am the astronaut who will be the pilot who test flies the first commercial space craft.” (After hearing this lie, I wonder if all the REAL astronauts would consider putting him in one of those G-Force (which he claims he has been in) machines and spin him over 8Gs for at least 1 minute for saying such nonsense)
“I was a civilian in the Special Forces. I went on secret missions.” (I wonder if he will ever encounter someone in the special forces who sees through him, maybe then he will get to go on that secret mission?)
“I was in a military unit where everyone was killed but me.” (This really upsets me, there are so many families out there who have lost loved ones, and then this guy, Mucus, claims to be a war hero… pfft)
“I was shot in the butt in Afghanistan.” (Hopefully we never have to see that, he doesn’t wipe his ass very well)
“My pupil was blown out when bombs were going off around me.” (I actually asked him about it when he was shit faced drunk and he let the cat out of the bag – when he was a kid he was too close to the fireworks – this actually might explain something)
“I was there when Osama Bin Laden was killed.” (Really, cause I asked Mucus the time/date and location of this event and uh, there was silence.)
“I am a pilot.” (HA HA HA HA, ok, I will give him credit, he did at one time have a some kind of certification, although sketchy, I did see it. The last time he flew I think he was like 16 or 18, prop plane, but he ain’t no 737 pilot.)
“You see that car over there (full of cleaning supplies, mops, etc), they are spying on me. I have a secret number to call, because you know I did all that top secret stuff.” (I don’t know if the cleaning ladies were more freaked out than I was, but I could not stop laughing when he said they were following him. They were most likely following him because they wanted to clean his mouth out with soap for lying so much)
“I put 6 people in the hospital after they tried to fight me, that is why I had to leave Seattle immediately.” (I’m pretty sure, they kicked his ass – I’m just saying)
“When I was in Afghanistan I bought all the liquor on base and gave it to all the soldiers.” (I am pretty sure they do not sell liquor over there, but I could be wrong)
Mucus was arrested one time for being so drunk and going to the wrong apartment looking for his daughter and I. The people were so terrified of his crazy behavior they called the police. (His 11 year old daughter had to go with me to bail him out, I will say I was embarrassed – he checked himself in rehab for the first time so he could avoid any custody issues, he started drinking and drugging about a week after he got out)
“I am a millionaire!” (Yes, well that is a crock of shit. Anyone who claims to be a millionaire based on their family members dying is pretty sick. That is just some jacked up, fucked up shit. Even though his family are a bunch of nutballs, I would never wish someone’s death just to get money – yes, he even throws his own family under the bus and they don’t have a clue)
For some reason I decided to Chrono his behavior in 2014 and save it on my blog site as private. WOW! my therapist was right, I really did stay with him for so long to protect his daughter, because there is no other reason why anyone would want to endure this:
8/2/2014: Today I got told to get the fuck out of his house because I flushed his Ambien down the toilet because he was popping pills all day and acting crazy.
8/20/2014: Today I was accused of hiding his Ambien.
8/16/2014: Today I was subjected to almost doing a drive by of his ex’s house – and then got yelled at because I didn’t want to, I also got harassed for leaving the restaurant to catch a movie, had to leave the movie because he was obsessing and then he backed me into a corner
8/30/2014: Today I was humiliated in front of his daughter because he lost his Lunesta sleeping pills and accused me of taking them.
9/4/2014: Today I got my asshole ripped for buying my Lover’s 10 year old daughter 3 magazines without asking permission to do so.
9/4/2014: Today I got my asshole ripped for buying dog food for my two dogs, food that I have been feeding them for the past year or so because I did not run it buy him first.
9/4/2014: Today I got told that he typically dates model type girls, his friends don’t understand why he is dating me because I am not the type he usually dates – yea I’ve got a great personality, but that is about it. I should be happy because he chose me.
9/4/2014: Today I was told not to plan any surprises, he hates surprises. He told me that I crossed his boundaries everyday, but could not give concrete examples.
9/5/2014: Haven’t had sex in about a week – think it is a way he chooses to punish me.
9/5/2014: Today he started repainting the house without my help or input – fuck it (I guess I suck at it).
9/5/2014: Today I do not want to go home.
He goes around wearing military boots, you know the ones, they are tan, lace up – along with his black hat with the Velcro on the front so he can attach an American flag. He buys all this shit from online military stories. The icing on the cake is that when people thank him for his service and he actually nods his head or engages in a conversation, making it seem like he can’t talk about it because he has PTSD. (I won’t lie, one time I told him to shut up because playing too much Call of Duty does not give someone PTSD)
I really feel sad for his new fiancé, I suppose she has now taken the role of his “Guardian Angel” – a label I happily turn over to her. Prior to dating Mucus, she was in a relationship with this really handsome black man. When I finally caught on to his cheating with her, I confronted him while we were driving home from lunch, his response was “I would never fuck a girl who has had a ni**er dick stuck in her.” (I wonder if he used that word in front of a group of black men if they would show him what that word really means?)
One time he drove me over to his ex-laws and confronted his ex mother-in law for driving by his house (they live in the same neighborhood – not to mention it is hard not to drive by someone’s house when they live on the corner, she called him a “Low Class Piece of Shit” and I think she was right.)
One time he was arrested for family violence of a terroristic threat and resisting arrest for sending his ex-wife this text :
Just so he could try to save his ass, he checked himself into rehab for the 2nd time (that is really his mug shot above – It was there that his counselor told, Mucus was not really working the program and that he had been clinically diagnosed with a narcissistic personality disorder along with his addiction issues. Mucus was actually laughing and bragging about it – I sure hope the Judge sees through him and gives him the punishment he deserves. FYI, he only lasted about 2 days after getting out before he started drinking again)
Another time, using that same gun Mucus got up in the middle of the night and brought it to bed because he said I made a strange noise in my sleep. (He was super drunk and high on pills. His daughter was sleeping in the room down the hall and of course I had tell him I would call the police if he did not put it away – Yay, that was no fun)
Mucus decided to ask my son to help him cut down 1/2 the fence in our backyard so we would have a view of the golf course. Our neighbors did not appreciate his idea and would frequently stand in their backyard looking at his handy work. One time Mucus, his mother and my son were sitting in the living room, I saw our neighbors standing in THEIR yard and mentioned it to him. Mucus jumped up ran upstairs, grabbed the same gun and came flying down waving it all over the place threatening to take our neighbors out. (For some reason his mother did not think his behavior was strange. My son and I sure did!)
One time his ex-wife had to take out a Temporary Restraining Order against him to protect herself and her daughter.
One year when we celebrated Christmas with his girls, his oldest daughter came over about 10AM and Mucus was already intoxicated, by the time they opened their presents, he was so drunk he could barely hold his head. He behavior was offensive, by yelling and talking gibberish. I had to take him upstairs and put him to bed. (The girls and I spent the rest of the day together talking about the things they had been through – it made me cry)
Mucus also loved to hit on other women in front of me, but the cherry on top of the sundae was when he was hitting on my son’s girlfriend in front of me (I will say that whenever he hit on other women they would always try to get away from him as fast as possible, because he was/is that creepy old guy)
Even more disheartening his youngest daughter is terrified to be alone with her dad. Since I have known her she has expressed her feelings and clings to me while she was at his house. She starts texting me upon her arrival and wants to know when I will be home. The texts become more rapid as he drinks more and begins to act “crazy”. I’ve sat and held her for hours while she has cried about being there. I did my best to make arrangements to leave work early to get home so she feels comfortable. I have run interference when Marcus has gotten out of control. She even had a safety plan in the case he was inappropriate. (It terrified me to know when she was alone with her dad, I always wonder how sick he really is – to this day, I know I am not there to protect her and I pray to God that he watches over her)
My son has seen the effects it has had on his youngest daughter; one night we all went out to dinner, Mucus was walking with his daughter in front of my son and I. Mucus could barely walk, slurring his words and was bumping into things. My son sensed his daughter’s discomfort and sent Mucus back to walk with me, while he walked next to her and tried to distract her from her dad’s behavior. We sat down for dinner and he kept ordering mixed drinks, so my son took his daughter to feed the ducks and ride a roller coaster. Mucus had a meltdown in public, so as soon as they got off one ride we had to leave. (My son is one of the most kind-hearted young man you would ever meet, he was always worried about Mucus’s youngest daughter and would express his concern to me. Anytime I texted my son, his first response would be “Are you ok?”)
We took a trip to Mexico, he went to the pharmacy everyday to find a doctor who would write him prescriptions for Ambien and Lunesta. The day before we left he was finally able to find a doctor and obtained prescriptions for both and had them filled before we left. (The whole trip he was drunk, passed out and constantly stopping at every Pharmacia)
Regarding money issues, let me be very clear- I had concerns about co-mingling our funds, I resisted doing it for the longest time. I relented when Mucus convinced me it was the best thing to do. When the credit card statements came in, I would go over the bill for both cards and give a detailed itemization of each expenditure (for Mucus card too, because he could never remember what things were for). I started to catch on that there were charges to CVS, Randalls and Walgreens for $30, $40, $50 everyday and some days multiple times – because Mucus would go to those places and buy bottles of wine. Every time we went out to dinner he would order alcoholic drinks which typically ended up being more than both of our meals together. (Cause it is normal to hit up grocery and drug stories multiple times a day- NOT)
Mucus also has issues with animals. I have witnessed him being cruel to the dogs and cat. Kicking the dog he bought me with such force of the bed that she hit the dresser in midair. He shot my cat with a bb gun, and then he decided one day to put a zip tie on a skin tag that my other dog had, which caused it to grow 3 times what it was, with puss and blood leaking out of it. The zip tie was on so tight I couldn’t get it off and had to take her to the vet where they had to perform emergency surgery at 12AM. His daughter and I were in tears at the vet and then he blamed me for it by saying I told him to do it. I assure you I would never ask Mucus to do anything to any animal, certainly not something like that. (There is a place for people who are cruel to animals.)
Oh gosh! I forgot one of my most favorite lies! Mucus told me he went to University from K-12 for gifted children and he was a child prodigy. (How could I have been so naive, he went to a school called “University School” he was never in any gifted and talented classes, he was certainly never a child prodigy – and he could barely read or write, much less have an intelligent coherent conversation)
Here is a letter from his daughter while Mucus was in rehab the first time:
“Daddy, I know its been hard but its been most hard on me. I know you love me so so so much! But you have hurt my feelings for the past 5 years you ruined all of my birthday partys and embarrised me in front of a lot of people including my friends. Like at my last birthday I thought we were going to get in a car accident and I was late to my birthday party and everyone was there looking at me and strange but I don’t like coming over to your house because it hurts my feelings a lot. And I love you and Kristen very much but it hurts for me to see you. And we do sometimes have fun but im emmbarrised. And I cant do this back and forth thing anymore because there are people who love me dearly. And I hate to say this or type this but I don’t want to see you because, it hurts me some much! And I cant do this any more because I’m not happy and I make your heart happy and that’s what I like to do is to make people happy because if I don’t it makes me sad. And when I am ready to see you I will try to do something like lunch or breakfast but im not ready to see you for a while and when I am I will text Kristen or you but I know you are getting better from drinking and I know you could be a great dad but I cant handle myself of thinking of seeing you as a dad I couldn’t handle it. Its hurting me so badly to type this but if I do this anymore im going to go crazy and this weekend I was going to run away thinking that would help me. But I need a lot of time to think this threw. I am trying to make people be happy and im trying to be happy but when im at moms I ruin it for her and me because I complain about coming to your house . Because it hurts my feelings. I hope you think deep about this I hope you can understand how I feel.” (Heartbreaking, she is such a smart and beautiful young woman – actually both his daughters are)
Sadly every weekend his daughter was with us he was drinking, hiding alcohol all over the house and when his daughter tried to get close to him, he would move away so she would not smell the alcohol. (His daughter did mention during one of those visits (well most visits) that she smelled alcohol and found a glass with wine in it – she even went as so far to find his stash and pour it out)
Mucus shared with me he visited a psychic in New Orleans (where he lives today)….. he said the psychic told him that he was murdered in a previous life in the 60’s, he was reborn too soon and still has a lot of anger that has carried over into this life. She could sense he had been through a lot of hurt, that he is unusually intelligent and has unique gifts. She also had a strong feeling that the life he lived so far was one of many depths. (That is an understatement)
Mucus would also tell me crazy things like he saw his best friend from college who past away floating over his bed the other night, and he was convinced he had a connection to the dead and beyond. (Something about his mom telling him when his was younger that he had a special gift of being able to see the future and sense certain things – I told you his family is just a nuts.)
Did I mention the DWI? Or the time he was arrested at Jumpy World…..
This is a public service announcement, it is all true, tons of witnesses, and guess what, there really are sick people out there. If your gut tells you to peace out – LISTEN! If you find yourself in this type of relationship, please seek help and know, it is not your fault.
Oh yes, Mucus’ mother once told him, that I would haunt him forever. (Boo!)
and through it all, and by the Grace of God, I have forgiven……..
My son told me long ago and still tells me today, that I am the coolest mom ever. Even his friends enjoy hanging out with me and sometimes he is awed by the fact that I really am pretty damn laid back (his words not mine).
I’ve often been told that I am a really cool chick, never really taking into account what that meant, other than I really just try to keep things real.
I mean, I am who I am, take it or leave it, I really don’t care. I think age plays a big part in in too.
This past weekend, I hung out with a friend of mine, Ricky (alias), and he even commented on what a “Cool Chick” I am. Even took the time to write it on a cocktail napkin.
Well as Wyatt Earp so eloquently put it “You are pieces left behind from someone who hurt you” and thanks to Ricky (alias), who made me take pause…. I believe I just may have found a piece! I used to be a really cool chick! Wait! I still am a really cool chick! Get the superglue out, let’s starting putting this girl back together!
It got me thinking so I did a little research and I would say that about sums it up:
She owns more than one pair of chucks.
Cool Chicks don’t have the hang-ups of normal girls: They don’t get bogged down by the patriarchy, or worrying about their weight.
They’re basically dudes masquerading in women’s bodies, reaping the privileges of both.
The Cool Chick has many variations: She can have tattoos, she can be into comics, coloring books, she might be really into climbing, hiking or pickling vegetables. She’s always down to hang out, or do something spontaneous like drive all night to go to a secret concert. Her body, skin, face, and hair all look effortless and natural — and wears a uniform of jeans, tank tops and tee’s, because trying hard isn’t Cool. The Cool Chick has a super-sexy ponytail or a sassy pixie cut.
The Cool Chick never nags, or “just wants one” of your chili fries, because she orders a giant order for herself. She’s an ideal that matches the times — a mix of feminism and passivity, of confidence and femininity.
She definitely knows what she wants.
And it’s an image that keeps amplifying: She may have shed her tomboy pastimes, but she still loves fries, pizza, and Doritos. She photobombs like a boss.
She hates liars and promises to punch anyone who lies like a boss to her face.
Girls love her, guys desire her.
NEXT WEEKEND – HANGING OUT WITH THE GIRLS!
WOW, very profound, a punch to the gut. Not something you want to hear on a Sunday morning.
Not something I ever want to hear again.
It is not a matter of what I can do to make myself whole again….
IT IS A MATTER OF INNER STRENGTH, PERSEVERANCE and LIVING THROUGH GOD!
Taming the dragon and riding again!
During my divorce class last night I learned a valuable lesson about not dating for about a year or two after your divorce. Typically if you jump back into the dating scene you end up with the same type of person you have either dated or married in the past and nothing will ever change.
It is important to build your relationship with God and to love yourself before you go out into the dating world, because really what do you have to offer anyone?
Had plans to go out with a super nice guy on Wednesday, but decided to quash that for my own sanity. I’m really not ready to date, I can’t explain it, as I feel empty, I have nothing left to give and the mere fact that looking to someone else for happiness, I have decided is a bad idea.
I am on a steady keel right now and just surrounding myself with friends seems more purposeful. I just had lunch with a co-worker and she discussed issues in her marriage. On one hand I was like, “man, the only person I have to argue with is myself” and on the other hand- did not miss the aspect of the craziness of being on a merry-go-round that wouldn’t stop.
I’m 44 and that goo goo feeling of “being in love” and having all those tinglies seems more like a web of deception, because we all know over time, it disappears and reality hits you like a ton of led.
You realize you are married to or dating a combination of Jim Jones, Hunter S. Thompson and Hugh Hefner – and not in a good way. You feel suffocated, like a cat being held against his will.
I would like to thank my friends that held me together and continue to support me, (either new or old): (alias’ used to protect the innocent and not so innocent):
Super spontaneous, need a pick me up, will call after a text I sent to say “This is by far your must fucked idea ever, I’ll be there in 10 minutes with a bottle of wine, oh and if we get caught, remember your deaf and I don’t speak english” –put your big girl panties on and let’s keep it movin’ friend.
Louise Elizabeth Sawyer (Thelma and Louise)
My best friend whom I knew we would be friends forever because I discovered that she too has no filter for her bitchy and sarcastic thoughts – we both agree that we should moonlight as comedians. And most importantly, gives a cooter punch to that loser who made me cry friend.
This gun slingin’ six shooter, always gives it to me straight. “Suck it up buttercup, why would you weep for a con artist who used you?” in your face, deal with the reality and not what’s in your head friend.
Really cool friend who is super intelligent (teaches me things I had no idea existed), has a collection of lego’s that I am dying to get my hands, a compilation of ultra-slick coloring books that make my crayons and pencils jumps out of their box and most importantly makes me laugh friend.
She knows how weird I am and still chooses to be in public with me, has a contagious laugh and knows when to have a deep conversation friend.
That one friend you have known your whole life, that you can go years without talking to and then pick up where you left off. Who is just as weird as me, but pretends he is not (unless no one is looking) friend.
Super sweet, will be there in a heartbeat – BUT you have to keep an eye on her so she doesn’t lick the walls after having a few drinks friend.
Even though miles lay between us we are always never far apart. Who would do anything for me, except leave her air conditioned home. We understand each other’s level of crazy and we love each other anyway friend.
Who always checks on me to make sure I am not sucking on any bullets if I post something obscure on my wall. Who tells me the honest to God truth, no matter how much it sucks. Is always there to build me up and give me validation (even if I don’t want to hear it). Has a wife who embraces our friendship and welcomes me into their home friend.
I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty sure he would stick by my side no matter what, offering to bring a shovel and help me destroy the evidence. Who taught me not to be jealous seeing my ex with someone else, because our parents taught us to give our used toys to the less fortunate.
Danno Williams (Hawaii Five O)
This street savvy, 9mm totin’, Jesus lovin’ big lug, saved my butt from imploding. Always there to pick me up when I was at my worst all while pumping iron (that takes talent). Who wished for the fleas of a thousand camels to infest the crotch of the person who screwed my life up and hoped his arms were too short to scratch (AMEN) friend.
Always keeps it real, praises Jesus and asks the same questions you do friend (that says a lot).
Who swears she will pretend to be my lesbian lover if I am ever getting hit on by another asshole. Who promises to always pick me up when I fall, after she is finished laughing and will give me a ka-pow talk to set the record straight. I’m pretty sure she could take down a cop, even though she is 5 foot nothing friend (good to know).
There is always that one person who can relate, because they have gone through the same hell. Even when I waved him off he has thus far stayed true like an octopus on my face, and it is much appreciated, you just can’t find friends like that anywhere, except in the ocean, and you might not want those, especially if they touch your feet and you can’t see them – really freaks a person out.
To say that love hasn’t obeyed my expectations would be the understatement of the century.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. The excitement of a new relationship, the flutters, the nerves, the pounding heart.
Marcus, no doubt, had captured my heart.
Our first kiss took my breath away. Literally, I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking and my heart was up inside my brain. (Maybe it was in that moment that my heart and my brain switched places, leading me down this very misguided path.) That night, he had me. He had all of me, no questions asked.
That kiss took my breath away. Still, 2 years later, I can’t breathe.
When I married my husband, I vowed to myself that I would never get divorced again. As such, I did absolutely everything I could to keep it on track, even though we were derailed before we even started.
I’d never met anyone involved in the kind of life he lived. It intrigued me. People in my world up to that point didn’t operate the way he did. It was beyond my comprehension at that time. I dismissed his irrational, abusive behavior as emotional wounds. Wounds I had the power to heal. I excused his lies, aggression and out of control drinking as a phase. A phase he’d soon grow out of because of his love for me.
I got married believing I would have a partner. Someone to do life with. Someone to lean on in times of struggle. Someone who loved me for me, not what I could do for him. I believed I was marrying someone who wanted the same things I wanted. Who was ready to support me and his children. Who understood what marriage means.
Much too soon in our relationship I invested my whole self into him. I gave him every piece of me I had left to give. And he took them all. No questions asked. Before long I found myself in a twilight zone of abusive patterns and addictive behaviors, and the lines between love and sickness had become so intermingled I didn’t know what was what. I didn’t know where I ended and he began, and I had no idea what to do.
I stayed for many reasons. Some right, some wrong.
I stayed believing I could fix him. That my love would be enough. That underneath it all, he really was this gem of a man. That his sick behaviors and attitudes were just the result of his own pain and with enough time, patience and prayer, I could be the one to heal those wounds. That he could be the one to heal my wounds. That God had me there for a reason and I could not abort the mission before it was completed.
I feared that after investing all of me and all of my time and all of my love into this one soul, if I walked away in the middle of it all, someone else would swoop in and get the benefit of all my hard work.
Through that process I’ve become even more lost.
I found myself in a constant loop of trying to explain the truth to someone who was set on twisting it. It was like living in a fun house. Everything was distorted. On the outside, he presented the image of a loving, husband and father. Even I bought into that image many times. Despite the many times he proved that was in fact a lie, I still wanted to believe the lie. My heart wanted him to match the image he created of himself. Because of his alcoholic soul and narcissistic heart, I found myself in a twilight zone of manipulation. I was sucked into the vortex, and like a vampire, my emotions were sucked dry.
I tried to backwards loop my way into a healthy relationship with someone who was incapable of looping with me.
I spent hours a day trying to get him to be on the same page as me. To operate in the same world as me. To be truthful. To have a genuine emotion and express it. To care more about his family than he did himself.
No matter how hard I swam away from it, I was inevitably sucked down into the undertow of his reality. A reality that left me wondering at times if he was right, and if I in fact was the crazy one.
Whether love was built in sickness or in health, the heart gets wrapped up in it and it’s hard to pull it out. I believe we tend to fall in love with someone based on the missing pieces of ourselves they seem to fill. This can be good. But it can also be very bad. Two broken, messy souls cannot “love” each other into wholeness. You simply cannot find missing pieces of yourself by giving more of them away.
But that’s what I did. I gave it all away to a man who didn’t want any of it. I gave my everything to a man who only knows how to take.
Marrying an alcoholic with narcissistic personality traits sets you up for a lifetime of frustration, loneliness, and pain. I took many of the things he did and said personally for a long time, and still struggle with the pain it has caused me and his children. However, I have come to understand that it is simply not about me. There is nothing I can ever do or say that will be right. Many things will never make sense. I will have an eternal hole in the place of many unanswered questions. The truth will always remain twisted. And the reality of who he is underneath the image he presents the world will likely never change.
Love isn’t supposed to be painful. Hard, yes. Painful, no. Our love was devastating. It left me breathless. Confused. Hurting.
For me, the decision to separate from my husband was made out of a place of such a depth of love that I was drowning. I had to get out in order to survive. My initial prayer was that separating would give us both the chance to catch our breath so that we could dive back in together. What my husband made blatantly clear was that he had no intentions of diving into anything but himself.
Letting go of someone you love is devastating. It’s like a death. But I am learning that my love is not enough to sustain the life of another soul. My love for my husband has changed a lot the past couple of years, but it isn’t gone. It’ll never be completely gone. That man held my whole heart in his hands, and though he didn’t cherish it the way he was supposed to, he will always have little pieces of it. But he doesn’t deserve all of it. He never did.
So now here I sit on a journey of self-discovery.