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 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.