My thanks to After Narcissistic Abuse for posting this list:
Too many people address anything slightly selfish as narcissistic; it isn’t.
I must constantly self check my behavior. I’m so afraid of following in the footsteps laid for me. I would rather die first.
Last week was difficult on so many levels. Facing yesterday’s truth elicited fear, anxiety, rage, depression, hurt, hopelessness, despair. It also reminded me why I plunge into binge eating. NM hates fat and thinks it’s disgusting and ugly. Maybe if I’m fat enough she’ll stop looking at me.
My hormones have been out of control, which doesn’t help with the eating, and I rage at God with, “Really? I’m over 50. Really?” It’s been over six months. It feels like a cruel joke. I survived severe cramping throughout my life by reassuring myself it meant I could have children. What a blessing it would be. Yes, these are the moments when I feel like God hates me, and I tell Him the feeling is mutual.
With the hormones out of control, thinking a coherent thought has been a daily challenge. I have managed to hit my 50 words a day, but I’m far from publishing my next novella. I feel like a failure.
I also have additional trouble with my memory.
I sleep a lot because I can’t stay awake.
This is the first time I’ve woken with cramping every day for over a week. Not impressed. Ibuprofen is a wonderful thing.
A while ago, I slept wrong and woke with a sore left shoulder and arm. I remember waking and thinking, “That’s gonna hurt.” It’s given me trouble every day for over a week.
What does the narcissism and everything else have to do with each other?
I feel like I’m at the bottom of a bruising tackle, with a whole bunch of 600-lb gorillas piled on top of me.
As the hormones settle, my brain is returning. I’ve endeavored to find the positive in the whole “you are physically capable of having children but you won’t” scenario. It’s a tough one. I didn’t have ibuprofen growing up, only aspirin which is useless. I remind myself I used to be on a 21-day schedule. Can you imagine PMSing for two weeks out of three? Mood swings, rage, depression, crying, foggy thinking, bingeing, cramping, headaches, and no way to help any of it until I was in my 20s. More than a decade spent without help of any kind. I reached a point where I had to make a rule for myself: I was not allowed to make any important decisions until I could think clearly.
Miracles: I didn’t turn into a raging lunatic and destroy everything. I was, however, criticized for not being perfectly pleasant all the time.
Ibuprofen is a truly wonderful thing. I’m so grateful for it. It’s amazing how many of the out-of-control emotions ease once the pain is under control.
I live with constant pain from my back and ankle. Blessedly, it’s dull pain, so I’m able to easily ignore it. It’s only a problem when a bunch of other pain is added. I’m not a nice person when the pain is escalating. Patience with myself and everyone else is essentially gone. When the pain is severe, I send myself to my room. I even ban myself from interacting on line. I know my thinking is less than stellar.
A whirling storm amidst the morass, then add the narcissist’s demands.
I am all kinds of impressed with myself for not going scorched earth.
Maybe God was giving me the opportunity to see how far I’ve come. I didn’t scream at NM or EF. I kept working, doing self edits for the novel coming out in June. I kept writing. I kept interacting with people and managed to behave myself. I slept when I couldn’t stay awake anymore but then dived back in after the nap. I didn’t fall into the trap of spiraling downward in the negative tape. I had only one temper tantrum, raging and crying and swearing at God, and it didn’t last more than a few minutes. I forgot to do all kinds of things, but I haven’t beaten myself up over it. Even my disappointment in myself in not having Leap of Faith Day out when I planned isn’t the beat-myself-up kind of disappointment.
One final realization: I’m not proud of the fact that I would welcome death. I would finally be free of the insanity. I want to celebrate every day I’m given. I suppose I’ll put that on my April Gift List. I’ll start by celebrating one thing every day. Change is a choice. I choose to change. God has already given me a good foundation. He helped me find Rule #1 Stop Lying, especially to yourself and apply it.
In case it hasn’t been noticed, God and I are back on speaking terms. I’ve stopped yelling and am listening. And He’s still there. He didn’t walk away. He didn’t abandon me. He didn’t even tell me how awful I was. I suspect He was sad for me, but He waited, like He always does. Back to moving forward, one step at a time.