What depression actually feels like.

Posted on August 6, 2015 by luckyotter

So true. Click to enlarge.

The honeymoon is over.

Posted on July 31, 2015 by luckyotter

I’ve been feeling quite strange the past week. It’s the worst I’ve felt in about a year. It started with feelings of anxiety and panic, racing and morbid thoughts and a feeling of unnamed dread. I’d try to nap and my heart would start racing so I’d give up. DBT skills didn’t work and some of my BPD (or PTSD) behaviors returned–negativistic behavior, feeling offended easily, sulking, fits of anger (not directed at anyone but expressed in imaginary conversations with myself in the car or at home), low frustration tolerance, paranoia. I’ve been less motivated to write. I’ve been neglecting housekeeping and eating right. Getting up in the morning is excruciating.

It was all I could do to make it through work. I was feeling sorry for myself all day and at the same time felt guilty for feeling that way. The anxiety has lessened but it’s been replaced by despair and some kind of deep sadness.

I don’t cry easily, but I started crying a few hours ago and couldn’t stop. It feels good to cry, but the feelings are so painful. I feel unworthy. I feel impotent. I feel angry at my parents for training me to be such a good little victim. I hate my ex. I hate myself. I suck at everything. I can’t relate to people. I hate people. I want to connect but I just can’t. I think people will hate me if I let them get too close. My world is so small and constrained and unsatisfying because of my fear of relating to others and reaching out, and because I never have enough money to do anything or go anywhere anyway. The summer’s slipping away and it reminds me of all the lost opportunities and all the doors that have slammed shut, never to reopen. That’s where my head is at. It’s a bad place to be. I feel like I’m losing control. It’s like a war inside my head. I hate all this wallowing in self pity but maybe it’s an opportunity to nurture myself.

I need to find a therapist. This blog is a wonderful tool for healing and it’s something I won’t let go of. It’s brought me a lot of joy. A lot of frustration too, but mostly joy. So I’ll keep blogging. I’d still rather do this than anything else.

But something, I don’t know what, has been triggered–by what I don’t know–and I’ve reached a point where just writing isn’t enough. I need someone to talk to who can help me sort out whatever’s going on in my head right now. I think journaling every day may have brought me to this point.

I’m not giving up. The good thing is that my emotions, while not really under my control at the moment, are there for me to feel. I’m not depressed in the apathetic, almost zombie-like way I used to get depressed when I was living with my narcissist ex. This is an active depression where my emotions are accessible to me and I can sort of name them and I just have to let myself feel them. I’m grateful for that at least. This is what I wanted. But what do I do with them? Can they make me a better, kinder, happier, more empathetic person? That’s what I really want. I need to find someone who can show me what to do with all these emotions.

I guess this means the honeymoon is over, and now the real work begins.

I have written nothing original for two days.

Posted on June 27, 2015 by luckyotter

For me, that’s appalling. I will probably make up for it tomorrow and Sunday though.

My head has not exploded yet.

To be perfectly honest, I’m very depressed right now and don’t feel like writing anything. There’s a reason for this but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I will when I have more energy and motivation. No, no one is dying and no, nothing horrible happened. I’m just in a kind of emotional crisis because a book I’m reading revealed a huge and painful truth to me. This isn’t a bad thing, but I have a lot of mixed emotions and the overall effect is one of mourning. I can’t write because every time I try to, I start crying. Maybe this is the huge breakthrough I’ve been looking for. Maybe these 10 months of blogging therapy and DIY therapy are finally having the desired effect. I’d say more but I’m so tired (and hot!) and just want to go to bed. I’m holed up in my room, which is the only room I can stand to be in because it’s the only one with an air conditioner. I promise I’ll explain more tomorrow.

On a lighter note, congratulations to the American gay couples wishing to marry on their Supreme Court victory today!

What living with a psychopathic malignant narcissist does to your looks.

Posted on June 19, 2015 by luckyotter

This is a picture of me taken two years ago, about a year before I finally got my MN ex out of the house for good. He was turning my daughter against me (although he failed with my son, who moved to another state to escape from all the drama) and had already succeeded in turning all my friends against me with his gaslighting and triangulation. He had everyone convinced I was insane, deluded, and stupid. I had no one to turn to and no money (well, I still have no money) but I had to support him even though he refused to work. I felt so trapped. We hadn’t even been married since 2005 but he continued to play his narc games, using the kids as pawns, and I made a huge mistake allowing him to move back in with me in 2006, because I was so easily manipulated and afraid of what he might do if I didn’t agree.

I was fat, out of shape, exhausted all the time, and look several years older than I do now. I didn’t care about my appearance or much of anything. I think you can tell by the expression I’m wearing here that I was severely depressed and had pretty much given up having any kind of future. I was just marking time until death and aging fast.

Me in December 2006: I don’t look very happy. I wasn’t. I never smiled.

At a wedding in 1996–around the time his abuse turned physical and my son became scapegoated. Yes, that’s him on the left. He looks like a bum today.

Here is me today:

This was taken in April this year.

I think the change is dramatic.

Are narcissists “mean people”?

Posted on May 5, 2015 by luckyotter

Most of us know mean people–people who always seem grouchy, grumpy, snappish or who rarely smile. They may be sarcastic, biting or negative. Mean people are easy to dislike, and if we’re well acquainted with the topic of narcissism, it may be tempting to label people we don’t like narcissists.

But they may not be narcissists at all. Grumpy, negative people may just be…grumpy and negative.

They could be depressed (depression often manifests as irascibility or quickness to anger), going through a hard time in their lives, in constant pain, or just having a bad day. Some people are just more anger-prone than others. They could seem cold and unfriendly because of another disorder, such as a schizoid personality, Aspergers, or OCD.

They are not wearing a mask. They are not showing you something they are not. Some people just feel bad all the time and don’t bother to try to put on a nice front to impress you.

Most (though not all) narcissists come across (at first) as the nicest people you could ever hope to meet. They are friendly, welcoming, effusive, and greet you with their most winning smile. They are likeable, outgoing and charming.

Let’s say you work in an office with a woman who is sarcastic and negative all the time. She is quick to criticize and complain. No one really likes her. There’s a man there who is much more pleasant to deal with. He’s always smiling, joking, patting you on the back. Everyone at work likes him.

Quick: who’s the narcissist?

Answer: it’s probably not the grouchy woman. Narcissists work hard to impress you, which means pouring on the charm to get you to trust them. The angry woman isn’t wearing a mask. She is showing how she really feels. She doesn’t care what you think of her because she has stopped caring about much of anything.

You hear through the grapevine what her problem is. Her husband left her and took the kids. He’s dating a woman 20 years younger than she is, and left her with practically no money. She also suffers from constant migraines. She’s too embarrassed to talk about all this in the office, but she feels terrible every day and takes it out on everyone else. No, she isn’t a nice person but she isn’t a narcissist (in fact, her ex-husband is).

It may not be the nice, friendly man either, but if one of them is a narcissist, it’s more likely to be him. If so, he’s far more toxic than the woman, but he doesn’t want you to know this. He’s biding his time, reeling you in with his phoney charm.

So don’t assume someone is a narcissist just because they have an unpleasant personality. You may want to call that person a narcissist because you don’t like them, but sadly, it’s more likely to be a person you like. Be careful who you pin the N label on.

I write so my head won’t explode.

Posted on April 23, 2015 by luckyotter

Alaina, a frequent commenter on this blog, said she almost named her blog “I Write So My Head Won’t Explode” but decided it was too stupid to be a blog name.

I think it’s great. So great I decided to write an article with that name. It’s great because it’s the truth. If I didn’t have this blog and wasn’t able to write every day about the good, the bad, and the ugly, I think I would have gone insane by now.

Writers are by nature people with issues. We have mental problems. That’s why we write. If we didn’t write, we’d be drinking, drugging, sleeping all day or stuffing our faces with junk food, or engaging in any number of other unhealthy and self-destructive activities. I know I did until I started writing.

If you can write, you are blessed. If you enjoy and are good at any creative endeavor (writing, art, acting, singing, dancing, etc.) that can add something useful, entertaining, educational or beautiful to the world and at the same time provide an outlet for your deepest, most painful or confusing emotions, for the love of God, use your God-given gift.

Writing is my safety valve. It’s something I love doing that isn’t going to destroy my mind or my body. But it’s a discipline too. Sometimes I have to force myself to write, even when I don’t want to. I’m always glad I did.

As ACONs and survivors of narcissistic abuse, we also have a calling and a responsibility to educate others about what we have experienced. Nothing happens for no reason. We were given the lives we were given as an education so we could help others. Part of our responsibility as narcissism bloggers is exposing the N’s of the world who have nothing but ill will for other human beings–and we do that through writing.

Since my daughter moved out Tuesday night, I’ve been more depressed than usual. In fact, I haven’t been this depressed in over a year. It’s not so much because she’s not here(though I do miss her), but that she lied to me when she was leaving. I confronted her about the lie yesterday–she told me her grandfather had sent her birthday money in a card, when he actually did not because I called him and asked–and she explained it was a bluff because she thought maybe I had stolen it and was possibly trying to get money out of me (playing on my “guilt” for having “stolen” it).

I felt betrayed and hurt by her lack of trust in me as well as her lying to me in such a mean spirited way. It’s been bothering me since it happened. It made me worry that she may really be a narcissist and not a borderline at all. I started thinking maybe she was diagnosed with BPD so her insurance would pay for her treatment (I don’t think NPD is covered by most insurance companies). I really don’t want my daughter to have NPD. It’s a painful and horrible thing to face–that your own kid who you love more than anything in the universe, may be a narc. I’d rather believe she has BPD. Maybe that’s all it is. I hope.

Yesterday I didn’t even go to work, I was so depressed about all this. I lay in bed sleeping most of the day instead, which is what I do when I’m depressed. Of course that just made me feel even worse. I didn’t want to write, I just wanted to sleep and feel sorry for myself.

But I also felt like pressure was building up in my head and that if I didn’t write, my brain might explode. So I forced myself to write, and I did feel a lot better–I no longer feel stressed to the point that I think I have to wear a head truss to to keep it in one piece.

Depressed.

Posted on April 22, 2015 by luckyotter

My daughter moved out last night with her current boyfriend. This was of course the plan, but I’m really in the dumps today because we fought last night. It ended with me telling her to pack up and get out last night, which she did. For a couple of months she has been sleeping on the couch (my roommate–yes, she’s still here but has been a bit better–has the other bedroom) and just got a job last month. She had paid nothing toward the rent because she was saving to move out. I had told her this was okay.

We are usually best friends but because we also both have diagnosed BPD, things can get heated between us sometimes. There can be drama. I hate drama. There was plenty of it last night though. Two things happened that made us fight.

1. When I was in the shower, she stole $10 from my purse. I wasn’t so much upset because this was all the money I had until Friday (which is bad enough–go ahead and try to make $10 last three days), but because I’d started to believe I could trust her again. (She used to steal from me a lot). I confronted her about it and she admitted she took it but called it “borrowing.” This led to a fight, because what she did was STEAL, not BORROW. I told her she didn’t seem that remorseful and that worried me. Later on she did admit she was wrong and admitted it was stealing, but that didn’t happen until several hours later, after she was gone, and it didn’t help my mood at all.

2. My father called her and asked if she had received a gift card and birthday check (her birthday was last week) because he hadn’t heard anything. She never did receive anything in the mail. Now she believes I took it when I got the mail (apparently the check was made out to me) and cashed it and used the gift card without letting her know. I don’t collect the mail (my roommate does, which makes me wonder if SHE took it). I have never stolen from my daughter and never even entertained the thought, but due to the circumstances I could actually understand why she would think along these lines. I’m also afraid my father will believe her over me, if she tells him she thinks I stole from her. I don’t know why I’m worried about this but I just am.

Even so, I was hurt that she would think I would steal from her. I told her I didn’t want to live with someone who not only stole from me, but would accuse me of stealing from them when I didn’t. I can’t convince her it might have been lost in the mail. She isn’t mad anymore but still believes I stole her money. There is nothing I can do to make her think otherwise.

It’s for the best she’s out. She is 22 and too old to be living with mom. I can’t help feeling a little sad though. I’ll miss her, even though I’ll be seeing her almost every day probably. I’m used to having her around.

I have more space now and can actually use the living room again, but because the fight happened late last night, I was so upset and wound up I didn’t sleep at all. I had to call in sick to work today (which always makes me feel guilty). It’s a pretty day and I may go outside for awhile and work in the garden or just sit on the porch and read. But right now I just want to lie on my bed and sleep the day away. I know that will only make things worse. I just want to cry right now.

ETA: I called my father and he said he never sent her anything (he doesn’t trust her and is sort of No Contact with her, so I thought it was odd he would even be sending her money). So she is lying to me though I can’t fathom why she would do that. I am going to confront her with this information and see what she has to say for herself. She doesn’t have NPD but is good at playing some of the Narc games that she learned from her father. BPD’s can be almost as manipulative sometimes.

Nobody knew who I was.

Posted on March 21, 2015 by luckyotter

Woodcut by Käthe Kollwitz, 1867-1945

I used to be a nobody.

Or, as my malignant narcissist mother would have put it, “a nothing.”

Before I started this blog, years of psychological abuse had sealed my lips and closed my eyes to what I could be. I rarely spoke to the people around me, and when I did, I revealed nothing because I was too afraid and was convinced I was a boring person who lived an equally boring life. I never ever revealed anything about my emotional life to people outside my immediate family, and even with them, I was reticent.

I’ve always found it difficult to make friends offline, due to my Aspergers and my avoidant personality, as well as my fear of revealing too much. I still almost never talk about my feelings offline. When I was a child I revealed way too much. I was highly sensitive and vulnerable but didn’t know how to handle it. That kind of openness got me bullied and as a result, I learned it was best to say nothing at all. I didn’t realize my high sensitivity was in reality a wonderful gift.

I shut and locked all my psychological doors. After a while, I couldn’t remember how to unlock them. For me, writing was the key, but I assumed the lock was broken and the key would not work.

For most of my adulthood, although I managed to marry and have a family (with a narcissistic bully who was all wrong for me or for anyone) I had practically no social life outside of that and hardly ever engaged in any interesting activities. I gave up easily. I never completed anything I started due to my dismally low self esteem that told me I was sure to fail. I gave up writing and art and all the things I had loved when I was younger. I feared being boring but boring is exactly what I became. I was just too afraid of everything to be anything else.

I believed my purpose in this life was to be an example to others of how not to be. Hell, even my own mother called me a loser and a failure, and if your own mother has no faith in you, how can you believe in yourself? Mother knows best, right?

Wrong.

I thought about writing a blog, but didn’t because I feared I would have nothing to say that would interest anyone. I also thought it would be too hard and I would give up in frustration, like I had given up on so many other things when they became too difficult. My irrational fear of failure crippled me.

Even if I could think of something to write about, I was afraid people would hate my words and ideas. Ideas? I didn’t think I had any anyway. In my own mind I was the most boring person in the world. I felt like a walking zombie, marking time until death.

I was so wrong. So very wrong. I’m free to reveal the self on this blog that was in hiding for decades and many times was hidden even from myself. I’m finding it’s safe to be open and vulnerable, at least online. And I’m finding there is so much joy to be had if you just open your eyes and your heart and let yourself feel life. It really wasn’t that hard to do, once my psychopathic sperm donor was out of the way.

I never thought I could help anyone, least of all myself. I felt impotent and helpless in the world, someone born to be a victim, a source of narcissistic supply to others, because that was how I was trained. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t really stupid, uncreative and boring. I wasn’t a loser and I only failed because I was too afraid to try anything and would give up easily the few times I did try. I didn’t realize it was my PTSD and depression that turned me into a walking zombie. Mental illness is a powerful dark beast and can engulf and eclipse your true spirit.

My creativity is blossoming. I always had ideas, but now they’ve revealed themselves as I’ve let go of my debilitating fear and self hatred. Sometimes I feel like I have too many ideas and can’t write them down fast enough.

Although my external circumstances haven’t changed very much (outside the narc being gone), I have hope now. I feel like a real person again, an interesting person who can even be a friend to others. I’m even starting to like myself, and think I’m a pretty interesting person. I’m even becoming proud of my high sensitivity I used to be so ashamed of. In its highest form, high sensitivity can reveal empathic ability.

I truly believe that once I got the narc out of my life, that God stepped in and took things over. He has shown me who I really am and what my purpose is in this world, and it’s not to be an example to others of how not to be. A plan for my life is taking shape and every day it amazes me. There’s so much to be amazed by. He is teaching me how to use the gift of writing that I had been wasting for so long on bullshit or not using at all.

Becoming vulnerable again through my writing is a beautiful thing. If you like yourself, you can handle the bullies, but chances are there will be fewer than you think, and most people will admire your willingness to be open and can relate to that. Your voice will be heard by those who are really listening. It can penetrate the darkness in other people’s lives.

Being vulnerable is about being honest. It’s embracing the truth rather than believing the lies.

Becoming vulnerable takes courage. Rather than being a trait of a weak person, it really takes a strong person to be willing to feel life in its kaleidoscope of colors. Before, I only saw in shades of gray.

I used to believe there was nothing left to look forward to. Now I know there is still so much ahead of me.

Nobody knew who I was. I wouldn’t let them in. Now the door is wide open. Come on in.

I had a bad day.

Posted on March 5, 2015 by luckyotter

Shameless self pity alert. If you hate negative posts, don’t read this.

I barely even replied to my comments today, so if I didn’t reply to yours, don’t take it personally. I’ll try to catch up tomorrow. I didn’t even post anything today, and that’s a first in a long time.

You see, I had a terrible day. It should have been a great day. The weather was warm–in the 70s!–and sunny, and yet my day started out horrible and stayed that way. First of all my roommate got mad because I wouldn’t jump start her car (which needs more than just a jump start) even though I was rushing to get out of the house for work this morning. I asked her if she was going anywhere today that she needed the car and she said not really. I told her I would help her when I got home, and she got all pissy. She actually had the gall to ask me to call work and tell them I’d be late just so I could help her jump start her damn car. I didn’t do it. In fact, I told her how entitled she was acting and she went back in the house pouting. Whatever.

This isn’t the first time my roommate has acted entitled and petulant when she didn’t get her way. I’m beginning to think she’s another narc. There’s a lot of red flags. But she helps me with the rent and I trust her on that level and can’t pay my bills all by myself, and that’s the reason she’s here. There haven’t been any real problems except that her entitled attitude is annoying as hell. She was never supposed to be my best friend. But she invades boundaries, is nosy, and demands special treatment. I left the house angry and feeling put upon.

I was already in a bad mood because of that, and then at work I was paired up to work all day with a woman I dislike (and who I’m pretty sure dislikes me). She’s not a narc, but our personalities just don’t go together well. She doesn’t understand my Aspie ways. She is very social and also acts bossy without having any reason to (I get that a lot–people always try to boss me around like I have no brain). I went off on her twice and apologized, but I just don’t care for her at all. She just gets on my damn nerves. Being an Aspie is so hard sometimes.

We had four houses to clean and none of them were easy. Sometimes I wonder why at my age I’m still cleaning fucking houses for a living, when I have a college degree and I can write. Other people get to write for a living and I’m better than some of them so why can’t I make a living doing it? Oh, I know why. It’s my shitty self esteem, which was destroyed by the narcs that have been pulling my strings and reminding me I’m no more than their puppet since the day I was born. I was trained to be narcissistic supply, to have no self esteem and have no mind of my own. I was trained to be prey. I was a good student. It’s hard to untrain yourself, even after the narcs are gone.

Being as Aspie just exacerbates this unfortunate situation. It’s hard–almost impossible–for us to make the social connections neurotypicals are able to make to get ahead in life. And in these days where “networking” is so all-important, it seems to me that WHO you know is more important than WHAT you know. It really sucks.

I hate that management took away my regular partner, who I got along with well. Management never explains anything. They just play us like chess pieces. They do shit like this and never tell us why. I’m over this job and am looking for another. It will be another shitty job of course, but at least will be a change. I hate working with all women. I get along better with guys in working situations. I miss working with men.

I posted nothing today because I came home angry, exhausted and depressed, and crashed on the bed for a nap almost the minute I got home. I never woke up or even had dinner. I just woke up a few minutes ago and ate a piece of cheese. This was the only post I could think about writing. It’s a sucky post but at least it’s something.

I’m just feeling blah, depressed and uninspired. And I have to go back to my shitty job tomorrow. I’m afraid I’ll be paired with this woman again. If I am I am going to management and tell them I cannot work with her and ask why I can’t work with my old partner anymore–or better yet, work alone more often. You make more money that way and I like days when I can work alone and not have to deal with socializing.

There are days, like today, where I feel like I’ve made no improvement at all, and haven’t really changed from the mousy little person I was a year ago. I’m just a mousy little person who writes a blog. I feel like my life will always be like this, that I’ll always be poor, always have a crappy job, always feel inferior to others, and never really be able to have fun or enjoy life. I’m aware a lot of this is just my pessimism and having a negative attitude. I know not every day will be like this. There are always going to be bad days even when things are generally going pretty well. I’m angry I didn’t get to enjoy the beautiful weather today. But there will be plenty more pretty days to enjoy very soon.

God help me. I have to get up for work again in a few hours. I really hope it’s a better day. I always feel guilty when I wallow in negative thinking, the way I’m doing right now. At least I can write about it.

I was so much older then…

Posted on February 17, 2015 by luckyotter

This photo was taken of me in 2012, while I was still living with and being gaslighted to death by my narc. At the time he used my daughter as one of his flying monkeys. They had me convinced I was the self centered narcissist and Michael would always set things up so he looked like the victim. A combination of triangulation, projection and gaslighting turned me into this sad, blah looking person you see here. As you can tell, I wasn’t taking care of myself–I was about 30 pounds heavier and wore just any old rag I could find around the house. I never wore makeup. My expression here looks depressed. I hid in my room with the door locked most of the time against my personal wicked demon and his flying monkeys trying to distort my reality and doubt my own perceptions.

Me during the time I was being mentally and emotionally tormented and suffering from severe PTSD, depression, and debilitating anxiety and paranoid ideation (some of which was based in reality) Although my health hadn’t started to go yet, it would have soon. If I’d stayed in this hellish mindfucking environment, I think I would have eventually become very ill, and maybe even died. I thought about suicide a lot.

Here is me after separating from my narc (April 2014). I look a lot happier!

These next two photos were taken by me about a month ago. Even in the nonsmiling, pensive one, I look a lot better and a lot younger. I think I look much more relaxed too in both the photos.

I’m in good shape now and managed to lose about 30 lbs. so I am a healthy weight now. My hair also looks better and I have no idea why since I haven’t really done anything different with it. It just seems fuller and, well, happier?

A year ago, I didn’t want anyone to take my picture (because I thought I looked so fat and ugly); now I’m actually taking selfies!

Improvement in appearance and a more youthful look overall is a wonderful fringe benefit of separating from your abuser. When you start feeling more attractive you actually look more attractive, and will take much better care of your appearance and your health. I’m just naturally eating healthier foods and indulging in things like alcohol less. I’m also drawn to nicer looking clothes and even accessories, something I didn’t bother with for years.

I still haven’t managed to quit smoking yet. Maybe for Lent.