Synchronize

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No. Wrong. Maybe that is the amount that understand you from your warped point of view. I probably used to be included in that number. That was when I played IN to your game rather than PLAYING your game. Now, I am actually THE only person who truly understands you. But you’ll never see that. Because I see you better than you see yourself. You’re so deep in to lying to the world that you also lie to yourself. I do have a natural gift for seeing through people’s layers of bullshit and seeing through to the core of what they’re trying to hide. It’s as if I have x-ray psyche vision.

I’ve said it for so many years now. The hypochrisy has been reaching the levels of what I grew up around. You KNEW how much I hated that. And you condemn him for that character traits too and still. And yet. And yet. Here you are doing it too. How do you not see this? How do you not see that the same things you yell at and about your daughters for, you do. How can I sit here and try to create good habits in them when you are setting a bad example ALL over the place?

For all your bravado, and all your talk of defending my honor, I sit here and can only come up with one time that you did so where it was not motivated by some other self serving motive. And that was the time you called and reemed out the clarinet repair man who had my clarinets for over a month and I was at his house trying to catch them at home to pick my clarinets up and they weren’t home. And even then, there still could have been the outside motivation of being worried that you might have to buy me a new set of clarinets. The time you told my mom off to tell my dad off the night of my bridal shower it was because of the things he had also said about you and because at that point you may have thought you had nothing to lose because I had been told I was being cut out of their will if I married you. It hurts like hell that you still haven’t gone next door and had the conversation you swore you would have in defense of me. Even having an AR 15 rifle pointed at me (granted it was by a cop), as I innocently walked my students out one morning thanks to the next door neighbors isn’t enough to motivate you to action over words.

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All of the questions, all of the oddities that weren’t adding up, all of the confusion, all of the anger, all of the emptiness….it is all starting to synchronize. I can’t believe I missed it all this time.

To be loved unconditionally. To have someone defend me. To be wanted. Apparently these are all too tall of an order for pretty much all of the biggest key players in my life. When I finally have all of those things in place within myself, look out world, because I will be a completely indestructible force that no one can wreckon with.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/synchronize/

My song of the day: Synchronicity by The Police

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Wolves and Sheep

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In the same manner that people with Cluster B personality disorders feign emotions, I have had to mimic their manipulative masterminds. It has become a matter of my mental and physical survival in what has become the cold and harsh world of this empath.

I was raised by an adoptive father who has full blown Narcissistic Personality Disorder and an adoptive mother who was raised by a mother who had Narcissistic Personality Disorder, who then raised me with narcissistic parenting as well. She became the Flying Monkey of my Narcissistic father who treated me as his Emotional Partner because he didn’t have anything in common with my mother. So he smothered me and took over my life. My activities became his activities. Many of my friends saw this as a parent who loved his child and was just involved and were envious if they had parents who were absent from their lives. But my dad took it to a completely different extreme. Every. Single. Activity. I did, he was overly involved in. He was a co-leader of my girl scout troop. He was the Band Parents President of my band. He made a point of getting in close to MY friends, to make sure that my friends even sided with him whenever I was upset about something like teenagers get. I couldn’t even have friends who were on my side. It has a name. Emotional Incest. I was my dad’s surrogate wife.

My dad would do inappropriate things too. He was struggling with his sexual identity at the time (still does). At the time no one knew he was gay yet. We hadn’t caught him yet. But I had my suspicions, I just hadn’t told my mom yet. He found it funny to ooze out his gayness in other ways like sending postcards of naked men or men in bikini’s to other men (friends of his) anonymously and would send them from different states when he’d travel to try and throw them off so they wouldn’t know it was him. He told my friends about his little scheme. One of my friends who was laughing about it and placating him, my dad decided to do that to. He warned him about it, that he was going to do it and said it in a joking manner, but then he did it. A freshman or sophmore boy in high school receiving a postcard addressed to him in the mail of a guy in a bikini….awesome!!!! I am so lucky that friend and his parents had a decent sense of humor. That could have gone really bad.

It would make sense that I while still under the thumb of my dad, that I would be easily wooed by someone who on the outside seemed to vastly different from my dad, yet somehow apparently something deep inside of me knew something felt like home to me.

After meeting my birthdad, I also found out that my husband is much like him as well. In looks, mannerisms, the loner status, the background in how things went with the ex-wives, the rock music and rock musician potential (one having led more of the real lifestyle and one lacking the opportunity to but having the innate ability for it), both who ooze the brooding pessimism, etc….So even without having met this man, there was something encoded within me to have chosen these traits when choosing a mate.

It is said that we keep having situations attracted to us until we resolve them. And obviously this is a prime example for me. It is even more true to have been said for girls marrying their dads and boys marrying their moms, the Oedipus Complex. Apparently, I have fallen right in to that trap.

Yesterday I met with a friend who explores spirituality and psychology and philosophy much in a similar fashion to the way that I do. As we were discussing my present state of mind and how to become unstuck from my sick cycle of a carousel, she spoke of my need to forgive myself. She felt I needed to stop my self loathing and needed to forgive myself. I struggle with this concept because many of my hang ups were created from my childhood, when I was innocent and didn’t do anything to deserve the manipulation that was done to my mind which has become the voice which continues to play in my head on constant repeat. When she asked me to name one of the things that I struggle with that started when I was young and still continues, I named that I never feel smart enough. It turned into quite a visceral reaction (another thing I struggle with that I medicate in order to temper because that is something many people can’t handle about me, and it does become too exhausting for me as well). Feeling smart enough is a hard thing to feel confident about when I still have my dad letting me know (just a week and a half ago) that he doesn’t think so (even though I know he does), and my husband making comments that make me feel dumb from time to time. I have constant reminders when I might not be street smart enough or have an airheaded moment. They are always pointed out to me and I am made fun of for those moments.

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I am starting to come to a conclusion that I am caught in another cluster cycle. One of a different strain this time, however. The headgames have just become what I do with some people in my life. I had to become good at them in order to mentally survive my childhood. Ignorance isn’t bliss in my world. With my intelligence constantly being challenged, I don’t like to feel as if the wool is being pulled over my eyes. I don’t like people thinking they can outsmart me and have control over me. I have tried to take the high road with these people, and when I have they only find some other way in the heat of the moment to take advantage of the fact that I am an empath and I don’t think fast on my feet and fear confrontation. And so I end up “losing” most fights. And so I have ended up playing their games back to them. Subtly letting them know in their own language that I am on to them and everything they try to hide from me and every way they try to get in my head. I let them know I am two steps ahead of them always. I never let on exactly how much I know but I always let them know in some way enough that they know the jig is up, and I watch them do a 180 and change their tactics.

Some people probably wonder if I do all of this manipulating and headgames, then doesn’t that make me a cluster b also? If you ask any of my nornal friends, they would all tell you that I don’t play any of those head games with them. I only do it with those who start them with me for survival purposes. One of these days this wolf will shed her sheep’s clothing and show that she really is the dominant wolf and she won’t be afraid of the vicious wolves any longer. For she has no need to scare with fear and gnarled teeth. She will lead with confidence and boundaries.

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There is a question out there that asks, “Have you ever been so mad that you are calm?” I could also substitute the word mad for hurt. There have been a couple of times in my life that I have gotten to this point. And when I have, I have numbed out. I have flipped my Humanity Switch. The most significant time in my life that I did this I had done it for a span of about 4 years. It was after I got out a a relationship with an abusive ex boyfriend who was probably an NPD, and had just figured out about my dad being gay and confronting him about it. It was during this period of time that I ended up falling prey to my current situation. It seemed so opposite of everything I had known but subconsciously I must have known deep inside it was a return to home base, to the familiar.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/ooze/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/visceral/

My song of the day: Sheep by Pink Floyd

Karma Chameleon

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Monday, August 13, 2018: My adoptive dad’s 75th birthday. The one with Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

I dial the phone for my obligatory birthday phone call. He will be up to visit next weekend so we can celebrate in person. It’s his 75th, so it’s normal that he would want to celebrate a special birthday with his only daughter. But it always amuses my friends that this is not an out of the ordinary affair. Every single birthday of my parents they fly up to celebrate with me. But, I digress…

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The phone call goes pretty smoothly for the first 3/4 of it. Things have been fairly normal between us for the last month and a half. But I’m always on eggshells, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he pulls some sort of head game tactic on me. And that day he decided to give himself a birthday present and pull the trigger again to the war he declared inside my head when I was 3 that I have been fighting ever since.

Nearing the end of the conversation he begins to tell me of his visit with his niece from the end of July. A niece that I reconnected him with due to people from his family finding me via Facebook in search of information for a family history geneology project. He had lost touch with her for quite some time and when I reconnected them, they began to visit with each other in person. She and I remain friends on Facebook.

He told me that she spoke so highly of me and sung my praises and gave me compliments. As he began to recite one of the compliments she gave me, within the same breath he also passed along the fact that he apparently disagrees with her complimenting me. He said, “She said that you were so smart….but whatever…ok (in a gutteral, disapproving tone)”.

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It really is a double entendre to me. He says it as if he doesn’t agree that I’m smart. When in all reality he does think that I’m smart. This is him trying to make me feel that I am not because my intellect scares him. I scare him. I intimidate him. I am his worst enemy. Because I am only one of two people in this world who has ever dared to stand up to him and has not been cut out of his life. The other one has backed off because her mother has asked her to. But I don’t. I play his game back to him and I see him for everything that he is, and no one else does. Everyone else falls pretty to his charismatic spell. And he doesn’t know how to handle me because I am the only one he can’t control. I am the only one he can’t keep under his thumb. And he doesn’t know what to do with that. I am a good actress and even though he has affected me deeply and destroyed my self esteem through and through, he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know how afraid of him I’ve always been and still am. I don’t really let that show.

But since he made his little insidious remark, even though I can sit here and intellectualize all of this, it still rocks me to my core. Even though it is, in a way, an actual compliment, that he thinks of me as smarter than him that he has to stoop to that level to insult me in order to try to keep me down, it hurts that he cannot love me the way I deserve love from a parent.

People with NPD are of course by definition not capable of feeling and showing love. And victims are always told that we should not take this personally. But my dad was capable of loving his dead boyfriend (while remaining married to my mother, leading a double life and forcing us to maintain his secret identity to the world). So why not me? Why am I not good enough for him to love?

Is it because men are not programmed for unconditional love of a child the way women are? (Though I never received this from either of my mom’s either, but that’s a topic for a different post). Is it because I’m adopted and he just wasn’t able to relate to me because I’m different than him genetically?

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I’ve been binge watching the TV series “One Tree Hill” and they depict three parental figures that seem to have NPD. Each one of them are more overt than my adoptive dad ever was and do more heinous things than he ever did. But each of them at some point in the show has some sort of epiphany with their child, where they realize they mistreated their child and we’re not a good parent and they genuinely feel sorry for what they have done and try to make up for it in their words or deeds. While they may end up reverting back to their wicked ways again at some point, each of them have at least one huge point of redemption where they truly realize themselves and admit it to their child. My dad will never see himself and will never have that epiphany. And that leaves me with alot of questions. I know the tv series characters are fictional, but do narcissists have at least one true epiphany moment? Even though I have flat out told him who he is, he has not come to terms with it or made any sort of apology or admitted to any wrongdoing. And this will never change. Of that I am 100% certain.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/recite/

My song of the day is Karma Chameleon by Boy George and the Culture Club

This was my favorite song for a period of time when it first came out. I used to think it was come-a come-a come-a come-a come-a chameleon. I didn’t even know the word karma. My parents never corrected me. They sang it the same way. They didn’t know either that it was karma. I don’t know if they even knew that word back then. My dad loved the song too. He had a weird obsession with Boy George. That should have tipped off my mom something was a little off, especially years later when he had that same type of weird obsession with movies like the Bird Cage, and To Wong Fu and Tootsie…He wasn’t a drag queen, but he did end up gay…

Karma Chameleon

Desert loving in your eyes all the way
If I listened to your lies would you sayI’m a man without conviction
I’m a man who doesn’t know
How to sell a contradiction
You come and go
You come and go[Chorus:]
Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon
You come and go
You come and go
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dream
Red, gold and green
Red, gold and greenDidn’t hear your wicked words every day
And you used to be so sweet I heard you sayThat my love was an addiction
When we cling our love is strong
When you go you’re gone forever
You string along
You string along

[Chorus]

Every day is like survival
You’re my lover not my rival
Every day is like survival
You’re my lover not my rival

I’m a man without conviction
I’m a man who doesn’t know
How to sell a contradiction
You come and go
You come and go

Emotional Rollercoaster

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I know I’ve been MIA a bit…with my stepdaughter moving back in after her break up with her boyfriend and subsequent stay in the psych hospital, my life has been turned upside down again. I know this is the time I need to write the most, but I just haven’t even been able to pull myself together enough to do that. This is why I’m just trying to even drop this little note to get back in to it, even if only the first step. At least it serves as a reminder of what I need to do to keep sane through a time I can already feel myself sliding down a slippery slope, very quickly. As things start to settle in, I will make it a priority again to get back to writing here. It is essential for my well being. I haven’t even been able to express myself through my music, because the school year came to a culmination and I hadn’t even been able to get myself together enough to email everyone about scheduling, especially since I teach a decent amount out of my house, and my house has been a holy wreck for a month now due to my crazy end of the year recital stuff and my step daughter moving back in, which entails a whole ton of moving things around within our house to get a room ready for her again and moving a lot in to a storage unit. One big ball of chaos and in flux again. I just don’t know how much more of this life (style) I can handle. I’m tired of my life being shaken up by everyone else. It might be time for me to do some shaking of my own…

Guilt, Fear and Shame

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There are two emotions that I feel very predominantly in my life: Guilt and Fear. I have felt them for as long as I can remember. Many people throughout my life have instilled those two emotions in me and then perpetuated their continuation. Due to my comfort zone of “sameness”, I have allowed it to continue. I have come to the realization that so much of my guilt and fear (aside from the fear that is actual survival type Darwinian fear), stems from many of the characters throughout my life holding alot of shame about their own actions or about their own identities. Because they were so ashamed of themselves and feared others opinions, they instilled fear and guilt in me in an attempt to silence me. But it is out of their own shame. And so, doing something like what I am doing here, writing for myself, to get things out of my head, to vent, to complete strangers, under an alias, secretively, still causes me stress, guilt and fear. I fear that someone I am writing about will find this and be angry with me for expressing things I am “not allowed” to express otherwise. I feel guilty for not being able to say some of these things directly to these people because our communication is so far gone, and I am partially to blame for that as well, but I am broken. But I am trying. I try every day, all day, to fix myself. That is what I am trying to do here. But it wouldn’t be viewed as that. It would be viewed as me talking about them “behind their backs”. But I do honestly live by the fact that I wouldn’t say anything about someone behind their backs that I wouldn’t be willing to admit that I said about them to their face if confronted. And if I had a better communication line with these people, I would be able to work through these things with them. But somewhere along the line, fear was created in me and caused me to withdraw in to myself which prohibits me from having the ability to confront the things I am feeling directly with them. Or sometimes there are things that they are just not able to grasp because we are in different places of development as souls on this journey in life. I, personally, don’t think that I am doing anything wrong here by writing and expressing how I feel. And if any of the people I write about were doing the same about me, if they said things that I were hurt by, I would have a different reaction then they would. I wouldn’t be mad at them. I would be hurt. I would be hurt that they felt they couldn’t talk to me about how they were feeling. Especially if it was a flaw about me that I needed to work on. If they were being catty, then it just says something about them, and then that is their problem and then yes, I would be mad at them if they were calling me names. That’s a little different. But if they were just writing about their honest feelings and I came across it, I would just be hurt. But I am pretty confident that those I write about would be mad at me and take it out on me in some way thinking I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing. And on the one hand, yes I should have the courage to speak to them about it rather than “talking to strangers” about it, the reason I don’t is again fear. Because I have been met with so much anger in the past whenever I do try to bring up things that need to be worked out, that I don’t feel that much gets accomplished, or I don’t feel heard, or I feel invalidated, or I feel we go around in circles, or some other emotion is evoked that scares me or is pointless. But living with the constant thoughts that swirl in my head without being able to express them has truly been killing me for the past several years, and I need some outlet it has been a big contributor to my depression, and I need something, and this is one of my something’s. So I guess I will continue to live with the guilt and fear of being found out because it still beats the depression of living with the pent up thoughts and inner arguments and tail chasing. Because I do know that I am not wrong for doing this. I will deal with the consequences should I ever be found out for doing this. Sometimes fate inserts itself for a reason.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/guilty/

Making an a$$ out of u and me

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So, yesterday’s bully situation exploded in my face today. When doesn’t standing up for myself or my daughter backfires. Learning to love myself entails using my voice, defending what needs defending and not letting people walk all over me (or my daughter) any longer. And of course, just because I didn’t hear any of the specific words that were said by the girl running her mouth, I can’t really defend my position and it becomes hearsay/he said she said. The girl went and “told” on me to the teacher and her mother, who then emailed the school. She claims that someone else said something derogatory about my daughter and that she was defending my daughter. So, I get a call from the principal today to kindly reprimand me for my assumption about what it was that she was saying since I hadn’t actually heard what she said because the mother of the girl also emailed the teacher. So now I’m painted to be the bad guy because I didn’t approach the teacher. But I have approached teachers before, and in fact, my daughter one and only friend, her best friend, had issues with kids in the class and her mom had a conference with the teacher, guidance counselor and principal earlier this year and my daughter became a huge topic of her own conference about her daughter. Because she pointed out to all of them that her daughter is constantly put in the middle and kids tell her she can only hang out with their group at recess if she ditches my daughter. She told them all how mean the kids are to my daughter. Has anything changed this year when teachers and principals are told? No. By the end of this year my daughter is wanting to change schools for next year. I’m tired of leaving it up to everyone else. No one advocates for my daughter. The girl who was talking about my daughter has been known to say and do mean things to my daughter in the past, so I have NO reason in the world to believe that she has a sudden change of heart and is coming to my daughter’s defense. Her mother is also part of the “in crowd” over there at the school because my daughter attends a private school where those who volunteer and give lots of money to the school will always come out on top. And I’m not one of them. So of course I’m the bad parent who is making bad assumptions and scolding kids according to them that should have been handled by a teacher.

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Everytime I speak out throughout my entire life, people try to shut me up and/or tell me I’m wrong. It is so defeating. I am tired of being complacent and feeling like everyone else in this world is right…..except me. Everyone else can get away with the same exact stuff that I say and do and defend, but it’s only ever me that gets told I’m wrong every single time, it’s only me who is constantly shoved down so far to the bottom of the trash pile that I do my own compacting. When I’m told over and over and over and over and over and over and over again that I am wrong, it’s pretty hard to tell myself and believe that I am right. Ever. It’s pretty hard to build self esteem and self love and have confidence enough to defend my honor and the honor of my daughter when everyone constantly tells me that everything I do or the way I do it is fucking wrong. I write here because this is the only place I feel validated. Very few in my real world of people validate me. Somehow, they tell me I’m wrong, or challenge everything I say or play devil’s advocate or tell me it’s not as bad as I make it out to be or compare it to something in their lives that are worse. I’m just done with it all. I’m tired of feeling guilty for speaking up. I’m tired of people telling me where my place is in this world. I decide where my place is in this world. Everyone else needs to stop trying to rule over me and put me in some sort of little box they can contain.

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I’m tired of people being so insistent on holding all the cards and for feeling the need to dominate me and disagree with me and all my ways. I’ve let this type of thing push me back in to my shell every time I get push back. But this time it might just be the fuel to my fire. It might just be the anger drive I need to keep my convictions that I will stand ground and hold the power that they all actually do see and are trying to hold back because they are actually afraid of what could be unleashed if I am not contained. I think everyone who keeps pushing down on me sees me bubbling at the surface and is wholly afraid of real truth rather than their controlled world of “truth” and they know they need to keep me at Bay. So I will not be shaken by this. I refuse to feel guilty because I know how my daughter is treated there. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes time and again. And no one ever defends my child except her best friend. Ever. I had every right to do what I did and I don’t care if it wasn’t within the little container inside which the niceness committee wants to operate. Because their niceness is not going very far in protecting my child from the meanness she experiences, regardless of their claims for not tolerating that behavior. It happens every day right in front of their noses and when my friend brought it up to them in the meeting how mean everyone is to my daughter they all said they had no clue about that….Because no one there cares about her well being nor do they really watch or listen for what truly goes on over there. I’ve been a classroom teacher before and I know you can’t catch everything, but I also know that they are missing far more than they should. And I have every right to say that as a teacher who knows EXACTLY what it’s like.

So they can continue their assumptions about me, and I will continue mine about all of them…

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/assumption/

 

 

Disappear

My song of the day: Disappear by Evanescence…….This song is very personal for me for how I feel about someone in my life that struggles with addiction and my own demons with people and addiction (since it was addiction to prescription drugs that was the catalyst for my adoptive mom to become a background presence in my life but then to turn things around on me and become jealous and angry with me when I became closer to my adoptive NPD father). So continuing to hang around in the hopes that I will finally become more important than the addiction hurts over and over, every single day and I don’t know how long to hold on and keep hoping and believing I will win in the end and finally be number one in someone’s life for once.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disappear/