I’m not making any New Years resolutions.


It’s hard to believe, but I’m entering my third year since ousting the narcissistic psychopathic ex from my life once and for all. So much has happened since then. The other huge change I made in 2014 was starting this blog, which has proved to be powerful therapy.

In 2015, I shifted my focus from the narcissists in my life to my own behaviors and realized that to find happiness, I needed to change. Blogging alone was no longer enough, and so I entered actual therapy–the intensive, psychodynamic type that makes you dig deep into your distant past, not just behavioral therapy like CBT or DBT (though those certainly do work too). I’m seeing some patterns that are so obvious to me now, I can’t believe I didn’t see them before. Tonight was probably the most incredible session I’ve had so far, and I’ll be writing about it later. This has been one of the best decisions I ever made, and I couldn’t have asked for a better therapist.

I’m not setting any New Years Resolutions, because those have a way of getting forgotten or abandoned. I’ve never kept a New Years Resolution, ever. But I have a feeling 2016 is going to be a great year with or without resolutions. Right now, I’m just feeling incredibly grateful at the shape my life is taking and the discoveries I’m making on this healing journey. I’ve surrounded myself with people and situations that are good for me and are helping me grow. That’s something new for me. I always surrounded myself with toxic people before. No more! Those days are long gone.

Have a safe and happy New Year and an even better 2016!

Processing my trip down the rabbit hole.


I’m so glad I talked about it. Everyone has been great. There have been no negative comments and hardly any unfollows, which surprised me. I’ve had a few comments like these though:

“You can’t be a narc, you’re too self aware and have too much remorse,”
“You’re a good person, so that can’t be true.”
“It’s just a bad case of ‘fleas'”
“It’s probably really just complex PTSD mixed with BPD”
“It’s probably NVS (narcissistic victim syndrome).”

Denial is understandable; I denied it too. For months. And it could be that all those things are true too. Narcissism is, after all, a result of being a victim. Narcissists are the most damaged of all victims, so damaged they became what was destroying them. And until (and if) I can get an official NPD diagnosis (which I probably wouldn’t get anyway, because I don’t fit the classic DSM criteria for NPD), there’s a possibility that I don’t have NPD at all, covert or not. Narcissists low on the spectrum aren’t necessarily bad people who have lost their humanity, but they are broken people and some want help. BPD symptoms and Avoidant PD symptoms mixed together can also look a lot like covert narcissism, but a few things didn’t fit–like the hidden resentment, envy and grandiosity I thought everyone felt.

In addition, because of the intensity of the emotions and events that led to my discovery and the surreal and almost supernatural coincidences that began to play out immediately after, as well as an enormous feeling of relief and a completely shifted vantage point where I could now see myself as others saw me, I can only believe my disorder is real and not a figment of a deluded imagination.

I feel like the copious tears I was able to shed just prior to and during my epiphany both cleansed me of some of the toxic, angry emotions I was always carrying around (suddenly I feel something closer to actual empathy!) and helped carry me to the next step of this journey, which is healing.

I know the next phase will be even more difficult. I doubt I can do it alone. I started a new blog intended to act as a therapy tool for this second big phase of my journey (and is also intended to help others in similar positions find their way), much as this blog has been a therapy tool for the first.

Because there’s no way I can afford the type of therapist I’d need, I’ve decided to search for a university clinical psychology program that uses BPD/NPD patients as “guinea pigs” to people training to be therapists, especially in reparenting/psychoanalytic (not just behavioral like CBT) techniques.


During my crisis last week I thought the shock of finding out the truth would kill me. But it didn’t and now I think it’s the most pivotal moment in my life. It also proved to me that God not only exists but loves me very much, because this revelation came after weeks of prayer that I thought were falling on deaf ears. I was almost ready to give up my faith because nothing was happening.
I was even losing interest in writing.
And then it happened, when I didn’t expect it. It hurt more than I can describe in words. But so does bearing a child–something wondrous comes after all the pain. God doesn’t always make things easy.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen down the line, but that’s not for me to know yet.
The idea to start a new blog happened after the dust settled so I think that was part of his plan for me.
If I’m right and God has taken the reins of my journey, I have faith he’ll direct me to the right therapist.
I’m both scared to death and excited as hell to meet my real self and for us to become reacquainted.

I think the true self comes out through art and creativity. For some narcissists, the “art” they produce isn’t real art but trash. But if they’re at all able to suspend their false self while creating (and I think some do), their art can be honest and beautiful because it’s coming from a place of truth.
Writing is when my true self is at its strongest. So I’m taking things from there.

I’m not sure which direction this blog is going to take. I’m not sure how to reconcile writing about narcissistic abuse without seeming like a fraud, even though that’s probably stupid because it’s not as if I wasn’t a victim of abuse. I was for my entire life until a year ago. Getting away from my narcs brought me the clarity I needed to get to this point. I don’t even want to think of what I might become if I had never escaped.

If anyone’s afraid I might abandon this blog, I promise I won’t. Just like I wouldn’t abandon a first child after having a second. However, for the time being I may focus a bit more on the new one, because of my need to write about things that would fit better over there right now, as well as mundane things like setting it up, putting some “meat” on it, and getting it established.

I’m not sorry this happened at all. I’m grateful. I feel so much better now, almost happy!

Bring it on!


This week has been very difficult for me emotionally. It started with an unnamed, free-floating but intense anxiety and panic, to the point I could barely function. A few days ago I plummeted into a black depression that seemed different somehow in quality from my prior zombie-like apathetic depressions. it felt more alive and more proactive in some way. I’m pretty sure I had an idea all along of what was about to happen but it hadn’t quite bubbled into conscious awareness yet. Its rising through the murky swamp of my unconscious caused me to panic and then a kind of grief took over but I still couldn’t name what it was.

Most of you who read this blog regularly know I began this blog almost a year ago as a form of self therapy (because I couldn’t afford a therapist). From the beginning, I committed myself to 100% honesty. Well, I’ve probably fallen short of that goal, as I’ve omitted some important discoveries and other things about myself that I simply didn’t feel comfortable sharing, even under my alias.

Last night–nearly 11 months from the day I started this online journal–I had a huge breakthrough. Prior to this, I tried to sleep but could not. When I did my dreams were upsetting and I had this overwhelming sense of aloneness and separateness. I woke up shaking and close to tears. I gave up trying to sleep and talked to 2 close Facebook friends for awhile. They’ve been a bit worried about me this week because my mood has been so erratic and I’ve done so much crying, which until recently has been unusual for me. I cried all the time as as a child but then dried up sometime during my teens.

Several things have led to my breakthrough: writing a LOT about my feelings and recovery from narcissistic abuse, reading as much about narcissism, BPD and PTSD as I could get my hands on, trying my best to always be honest no matter how painful or embarrassing (but not always succeeding), and finding God and the power of prayer. It’s been an incredible roller coaster ride.

For several weeks prior to last night, I’d been praying for the ability to regain the easy access to my emotions I had as a child, only tempered with the wisdom and restraint of an adult, of course. I kept reading, writing, and trying to elicit emotion through music, movie-watching, and self-reparenting. I knew this required making myself as vulnerable as possible. I took myself to see “Inside Out,” which loosened something inside me but not quite enough. It was like one of those almost-sneezes that never quite comes out and leaves you wanting to punch a wall in frustration. Nothing much happened after that. I was growing impatient.


A week ago, I fell into my panicky, anxious state followed by a “wet” depression (that included tears instead of my usual catatonic apathy). I didn’t even know what I was crying about. I lost my motivation to write (in retrospect, I think this as a form of self protection when I needed it). I was snappish and irritable on the job but would come home and set aside alone time so I could just let everything out without fear of embarrassment or shame. I knew instinctively something important was about to make itself known and that scared me, but I felt a kind of excitement too.

It happened last night at about 3 AM after my Facebook friends and I ended our conversation. I read something that triggered a deep knowledge that hit me like jolt of electricity. For a few terrifying minutes I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath and I might even throw up. I felt hot and cold flashes and started to shake. What I learned was overwhelming and devastating–but I also knew I’d known this for a long time but had repressed it.

Everything suddenly made sense and I felt like I was seeing my situation and all my relationships—hell, over 50 years of my life–with eyes that had been closed since I was very young. I remembered, vaguely, that someone told me something when I was four years old. I couldn’t remember what was said or who said it but I did know whatever it was had been the catalyst when all my problems started that would not abate for over 50 years. One day when I’m ready I’ll remember what actually was said and who said it. I cried harder than I’ve cried since I was about 12. I can’t go into detail right yet about what this discovery was–I’m not ready. I may never be ready. But it’s something that although its discovery is incredibly upsetting to me, it’s also something I needed to have in my conscious awareness before I could really start to do the hard work necessary for real healing.

God answers prayers in his own time. He’s working on me. I have faith he works on all of us if we reach out with a sincere heart and ask for help. Now that I have this information that was revealed to me, the next step is to figure out what to do with it. Right now I just feel shell shocked. I have to be gentle with myself while I work through and try to understand everything that happened. I’m working on finding a therapist to help me sort it out because I think it’s too big for me to handle all by myself anymore. All I can do right now is keep on praying and writing every day and working on myself and being as mindful as I can until I find someone appropriate. I know the work ahead of me is going to be harder now than it has been and that’s okay. It may take a long time and that’s okay too. I feel like I graduated from something last night. I’m ready for the next step. Bring it on!

Somehow I feel lighter today although I’m exhausted and desperately need a good night’s sleep.
I know I can do this thing. But for the love of all that is holy, WHY DID IT TAKE SO LONG?

Crazy ride.

Giving up is conceding that things will never get better, and that is just not true. Ups and downs are a constant in life, and I’ve been belted into that roller coaster a thousand times.
–Aimee Mullins via http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/

To ride or not to ride.


Roll back down the track about 11 months. September 2014. That was the day something in my brain finally connected right and I got the idea to start a blog about narcissistic personality disorder.
I had no idea what I was in for. Not even close.
I didn’t have the foggiest idea what sort of roller coaster ride starting a blog about narcissism would become.
It would become the most life-changing ride of my life.

I had no real plan to start a blog. Occasionally I’d have the fleeting thought like “oh, maybe I should start a blog sometime…” but these thoughts were passing and vague, like puffs of cigarette smoke passing over my head. And they went nowhere. Instead, they dissolved in the sea of my uncertainty and inability to make any sort of decision: “Oh, but no one would read my blog,” I’d remind myself. “I’m so boring and have no interests and so what would I blog about anyway? How boring my life is?” So these passing ideas were just sort of pipe dreams. They had no spine or any substance at all. They dissolved away like smoke and vapor and dreams. So I wasn’t seriously considering blogging until the day I finally did.

In February 2014 I’d kicked out my narcissist ex who was living on my couch and making my life a living hell. For about two months I walked around kind of numb and rudderless. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going and I was scared but sort of excited too. Mostly I was just trying to find my bearings and stay grounded. It could be frustrating. I just wasn’t used to making decisions or doing things on my own, without the narc’s “help.”

In about April or May I started reading a lot about Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I first reread “People of the Lie,” the only book about malignant narcissism I owned at the time (now I have a whole library of such books). I began to read George K. Simon’s “Manipulative People” blog. That was the very first blog about character-disordered people I ever read. I posted a few times, tentatively, but never got too involved, because soon I found other blogs and started reading and sometimes posting on those too.

One day in September 2014 (the 10th to be exact) I was poking around online and on a whim decided I wanted to start a blog. The idea came out of nowhere. In retrospect I think it was God giving me a nudge because I was ready. But ready for what? I had no idea where such a thing would take me–all I knew was I needed to tell my story and in doing so try to sort through all my confused and bewildering feelings. I attempted to start my blog on Blogger, but it kept wanting me to use my real name because it’s run by Google and connected to it, and using my real name on the type of blog I was going to do was out of the question. I had heard WordPress was hard, but decided to give it a shot.

Ascending the track, eyes ahead, heart in mouth.


WordPress wasn’t hard. The learning curve was about three days, and after that I felt like I knew what I was doing. At first writing was a bit of a chore, and I didn’t write every day. As time went on, and I started to explore narcissism more deeply and do more reading (by this time I had ordered two of Dr. Simon’s books–“In Sheeps Clothing” and “Character Disturbance”), I found my fascination increasing. I was also beginning to change and my confidence was starting to rise out of the toilet. People told me I seemed somehow “different.” For the first time in my life, I felt like I was doing something that made me feel passionate and that could possibly be of use to others too.

Since then, many things have happened in my blogging journey. I’ve learned more about myself and my narcissists than I ever dreamed possible, and I also found faith in God during the process. I believe with all my heart that God gave me the life He did to lead me to where I am now, writing about my experiences as a victim of narcissistic abuse and learning as much as I can, so I can pass along what I know to others who are in similar situations.

On top of the world–but don’t look down.


There have been incredibly heady, exciting times–sudden spikes in popularity, an article going viral for the first time, certain well-known people in the field of narcissism who found and helped promote my blog and its articles, suddenly having so many new friends, getting comments and emails from people who told me my words gave them hope or the courage to leave their narcissist, or even in one case, saved their life. It was surreal the first time I found one of my articles at the top of page 1 of Google, or got reblogged by someone whose blog gets many more hits than my own. As an added bonus, I found out my traffic was sufficient to run some ads, and from that I’ve been able to make some pocket money. Making money never has been and never will be my purpose for doing this, but I’m not going to lie and tell you it isn’t sort of nice to have an additional $20-$30 dollars a month for doing something I love to do. Maybe someday I can parlay this into a career, especially if I write a book (which I plan to start doing fairly soon, when I have some time and think of a topic for a book I’d want to write). It might even be fiction, only using what I know now about myself and the scourge of narcissism as a sort of matrix that holds the skin of the story together.

Hurtling back to earth.


It hasn’t all been a joyride either. There have been painful and disappointing times too–my first hater and troll comments, people accusing me of having dishonest motives or being a narcissist myself (or at least a narc-enabler), the loss of several people I thought were friends along the way (for various reasons), finding unflattering comments about this blog on other blogs, finding out I’d unintentionally hurt a few people I cared about; other friends disappearing into the black hole of cyberspace, writing highly personal articles that scared me to post so much I felt sick before finally taking that deep breath and posting them anyway (and I’ve never regretted doing so), being emotionally triggered by someone else’s sad story or just from digging so deep into my own psyche or past; chronic worrying that maybe I’m too narcissistic; and having periods of self-doubt and depression when I wonder if I’m good enough to be doing this at all or if it even really means anything.

Exhilaration and sadness.


But on the whole, the ride–like a rollercoaster–has been incredibly fun. The downs just mean you’re going up again, and the overall feeling of blogging about narcissism (and related mental health subjects) has been exhilarating, empowering, and the most enjoyable and creative activity I’ve ever undertaken–and best of all, I’ve actually stuck with it. In the past, I would get interested in things, but never stick with them for very long, especially once the going got rough or I realized how much blood, sweat and tears it would require.

But blogging about narcissism, as emotionally triggering and difficult as it can be at times, is a labor of love and the more I do it, the more I want to keep doing it. Unlike every other interest and hobby I’ve had, I haven’t lost interest in it.

Writing about narcissism (and my own disorders) is incredibly emotional, sometimes painful, and a LOT of hard work. There have been times I found myself in tears after writing a particularly emotional article, especially if it involved a painful experience from my own past, and for me being able to release emotion is a great thing because for so long most of my emotions were bottled up.

The Healing Power of Creativity.


Blogging is also very creative. One of the only things I rarely ever doubted about myself was that I had the ability to write. Creative writing was always something I was good at and did for fun. As a 7 and 8 year old, my father brought home these tiny little leatherette-covered notebooks with the covers in bright primary colors. The tiny pages had miniature lines for writing which was good because at that age, I still couldn’t write in a straight line (the slope was always downward: was that foreshadowing what was still to come?) On the cover they had a single word like “Memorandum” in embossed golden letters. They were given to me in stacks of rubber bands. There must have been 50 of them. In those little books I wrote lots of little illustrated stories. I always used colored markers and pencils, never crayons because they left too big a mark on the tiny pages. I don’t know what happened to those little books but I wish I still had them.

Even my parents–who rarely had anything both good and true to say about me (I was both scapegoat and golden child in their marriage)–both admitted I could write really well. I worked in medical journalism when I got out of college and wrote some freelance book reviews and did some proofreading and freelance editing, but after having children and moving to another state, I gave all that up. And when I did write, it was always for someone else or for money, never for the love of doing it.

Also by then I was in my disastrous marriage to a psychopathic malignant narcissist, and all the good and healthy things about myself (which didn’t seem to be many) began to gradually and insidiously slip away. I became a near zombie. I thought I forgot how to write. In 2003 I wrote a novel (a very bad one, it turned out) and I had my mother read it (she was probably the worst person for me to have read it) and she told me it sucked, which it did. I was trying to write like Pat Conroy, an author I was very much into at the time.

I reread it two years ago and cringed while reading it. It was full of florid, purple prose, cliched phrases and cliched, one dimensional (is that a cliche?) characters. The one sex scene was embarrassingly bad (I will not go into detail about that here!) I felt sick after reading this amateurish piece of badly written sentimental trash and it was everything I could do to reread even a page of it. That’s how embarrassed by it I was. It was so bad that a Harlequin romance would seem like Tolstoy in comparison.

In what universe had I ever thought that piece of Pat Conroy wannabe-garbage was good enough to send out to publishers and agents (who all rejected it)–or have my constantly-critical mother read it? The novel is still sitting in a cardboard box in the back of my closet, its pages becoming brittle and yellow with time, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to throw it away. It’s a reminder of a time where I couldn’t write because I was too divorced from my own emotions. A person who is dead can’t write–and I was like a walking dead person, trying to write about emotions I couldn’t access.

So after that I imagined I was a terrible writer after all, and never really had that much ability. Writing this blog has reassured me that my ability to write never went away and in fact it’s improved over the months I’ve been writing this blog. So blogging is increasing my self esteem that way too. I think the abilities God gave us are one of his greatest gifts, and those of us who have a talent in one or more of the arts (performing, literary or visual) are especially blessed, because we have the means to communicate feelings to the world, not just ideas, facts, or thoughts (not that those aren’t valuable too).

I call blogging my self-therapy because that’s what it is. It’s also my creative outlet right now. I can’t get over all the positive changes I see in myself (and that others have noticed too), including an increased ability to be in touch with my true emotions, having a relationship with God after having been agnostic most of my life, a much more positive attitude than I used to have, better health, and retrieved memories and revelations about what my painful and difficult life has really meant (news flash to myself: I was not born to be an example to others of what a “loser” looks like).

I don’t want to get off this ride.

Queen’s University engineering student David Chesney rides the 28- metre-long rollercoaster he made.

All these discoveries are so unbelievably exciting and validating they far surpass the pain I’ve sometimes experienced on this sometimes terrifying ride into the unknown. Sometimes I feel like I’m exploring a new galaxy, and finding wonders every day, both great and small–and horrors too, but the horrors are usually cast by my own shadow and prove in the end to be harmless.

I would never have believed the most amazing journey of my life would take place without my ever having to leave my house.

There’s something about a roller coaster that triggers strong feelings, maybe because most of us associate them with childhood. They’re inherently cinematic; the very shape of a coaster, all hills and valleys and sickening helices, evokes a human emotional response.
–Diablo Cody

via http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes


Nobody knew who I was.

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?


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.

My final words about this…


I’m not angry or upset and I don’t hate you. I don’t pity you anymore either. Pity is a wasted emotion and does nothing but condescend to the person you are pitying. In spite of our differences, I have the utmost respect for you.

You probably will laugh at me for saying this, but I think God used you to show me who I am
and how I fit into this world. When you allowed me to peer for brief moments inside your labyrinth-like beehive (and sometimes hornet’s nest) of a mind, in retrospect I understood on a gut level that you helped me understand how to read and cope with others with your illness, and help others like myself. I learned to be more empathic and more aware (not wary) at the same time. I developed an insight into myself that had always eluded me.

I used to have empathy for you, and in a way I still do, but I no longer of the belief you can get well so I had to let go of most of that empathy, for it would have been wasted.
Being the kind of person I am, it was so hard for me to do that, but I had no other choice.

Try as I might, I never was able to solve the puzzle of you. I had to give that up too. But I solved at least a little bit of the puzzle of me, and that’s so much better.

You more than anyone, know how damaged and broken you are, and I know you’re fully cognizant that you probably can’t ever escape your self created prison that one day will annihilate you.

But in spite of that–and no matter what your true motives, for the means here don’t matter, only the end–I need you to know you did and do and will continue to touch some lives in spite of being what you are. You might hate knowing you did good, but…you did good. Deal with it.

I’m a better person than I was because of the perspective I was given. So I wanted to thank you for that. And for your support of this blog. Everything happened just when it was needed.

Nothing happens without a reason. There is a time and purpose for everything. No one exists without some reason to be here. Everything under God is connected.

This blog is half a year old today!


On September 10th, 2014, after about 2 months of just reading blogs by other survivors of narcissists (and occasionally posting on Dr. George K. Simon’s wonderful blog, “Manipulative People”), my life was about to change. And it started with a small idea.

I had always like the idea of starting a blog, but didn’t for several reasons.

1. I thought it would be too hard.
2. I didn’t feel inspired enough to write articles every day or do the work to maintain a blog.
3. I had no idea what I wanted to write about.
4. I thought I forgot how to write. Seriously.

It just seemed like an overwhelming, daunting task and I just thought I wasn’t an interesting enough person with an interesting enough life to start a blog. For years while married to and living with my narc, my self esteem had been so decimated that any interests I once had were gone like the wind, and any talents I once had I was convinced were gone. I didn’t even think I was that intelligent anymore.

For a couple of months after FINALLY kicking my narc to the curb, I floundered around trying to find my bearings and get used to living without him. I was ecstatic he was gone, but I was like a ship without a rudder for awhile. I was still codependent and felt anchorless. I wasn’t used to being alone.

In about May or June of 2014 (I kicked him out in February), I started to entertain the idea of blogging and thought it might be something I might do in the future, but not anytime soon. I still had no idea what to write about. But I thought my story might be interesting. I worried it might be too depressing to write about though–why would anyone with an ounce of sanity want to read about my problems, for heaven’s sake? Maybe I’d just write about my experiences in in Wordpad and leave it at that.

I’m not sure why I started to read so much about NPD, PTSD and Aspergers in around July 2014, but I knew my ex had NPD and wanted to find out more. I also wanted to find out what made me tick and what made he and I tick and why I was always so codependent and scared of everything. I read voraciously, both blogs and too many articles and books to count.

Then in August 2014 I discovered a blog written by a woman I could relate to better than any other blogger about narcissism I’d yet come across. Like me, she’s an Aspie, and like me, she struggles with poverty, being bullied as a child, and having narcissistic parents. Like me, she likes to keep her topics varied and writes about unrelated topics sometimes. Her politics are also very much like mine. We believe the same things about the increasingly narcissistic society we live in today. We both love art, reading, talking about deep things, hate political correctness and small talk, and we both love Roz Chast and Peanuts cartoons.

But we have our differences too: Unlike me, Peep struggles with Lipedemia, morbid obesity, and numerous chronic physical conditions that make mobility difficult for her. Also, unlike me, Peep has a much more Biblical and fundamentalist view of Christianity than I do (yet we are both Christians who have asked Jesus to be our personal savior). The abuse Peep endured was much more severe than mine (and mine was pretty bad!). Unlike me too, she has no children, and is married to a non-narcissistic man and they enjoy a very loving relationship. Peep doesn’t believe any narcissists can ever be cured, while I still think the jury might be out on that, at least for a few.

Peep is also a very good writer and sometimes very funny. Her posts are always a joy to read and even when they’re depressing, they’re so helpful and well written. I devoured her blog like a dog devours steak.

Peep was the blogger who inspired me to start this one. I was reading an article on her blog one day (I can’t remember which one now) and suddenly looked up and said to myself, “That’s it. I’m starting my own blog.”

It was a clear decision, a “eureka” moment really–no more wishy washy indecisiveness and self doubt for me. The idea came so suddenly it almost seemed like it was someone else telling me to do it. Now I think it was God (I was also agnostic at the time I started the blog, but began to shed my doubts about his existence, among other things, just by WRITING.) See, I think creativity is actually very close to a spiritual experience and when we allow our God given gifts to flow, that’s when see truth and beauty and come the closest to being with God. All of us have gifts. Your job is to ask God to help you find it. It may not happen immediately, but keep asking and I promise you it will come to you. Maybe not in a “eureka” moment–it may happen more slowly–but you have a gift God wants you to share with the world.

I’m veering off topic. Sorry about that.

…So that night, I pulled up WordPress on my browser, opened it up for the first time. and that night put up my “Hello World” post

On a gut level I felt that making this blog public was incredibly important–because doing that would help me, as an Aspie who is also avoidant–connect with others. Making it public would also help me get over a lot of my social anxiety. It seemed like a crazy thing to do at first–share my personal story I wouldn’t even share with my neighbor or coworker–with God knows how many hundreds or thousands of complete strangers all over the world. But it turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made, and it’s working!

Everything since that day has changed. My whole life is changing. Maybe not my external circumstances so much (yet), but I’m changing on the inside. I’ve noticed my overall tone has changed from a much more negative, pessimistic, cynical and poor-me attitude to one that’s more positive and fun.

That being said, I do have my less pleasant and more pessimistic moments and I make sure to write about those too, because it’s important to allow myself to feel and then purge my painful emotions. People who feel down can sometimes relate better to “misery loves company” than too much upbeat positive thinking. I know I can–only lately am I responding more to “positive thinking” articles.

Being too upbeat all the time isn’t the way real humans operate, and the ones who do operate that way are more annoying than a bad case of fleas. They’re probably narcissists too.

Back to the point, at this late age, I’m finally finding out what Lucky Otter is all about, and she’s pretty cool!


This journey has been an incredible ride into the inside of my mind and soul. There have been difficult and frustrating parts of this journey–but those were actually the best parts, because it was those hard times I had in the blogosphere that taught me the most about myself and my relationship to God and to this world.

I was surprised to find I still had the gift of words that God in his grace and mercy had given me, and had never taken it away! He gave me another chance.

The growth of this blog has been incredible in the six months it has existed. I won’t get into the details about that here because I have written about that so much before, but it’s more than I ever dreamed was possible. It’s surreal.

So I’m celebrating today by congratulating this blog for turning 6 months old today and for bringing me and so many other people hope, insight, tears, and laughter. And forging some great friendships along the way.
If it weren’t for you guys, my followers–and all your support (special thanks to OM–he knows why!), this blog wouldn’t be what it is right now.

This blog is my pride and joy, my getting-big-and-unwieldy-but-much-more-interesting new child, and just like a loving mother of a big and active toddler (that’s the stage of “life” I think this blog is at right now), I want it to grow up to be the best blog it can be and to be able to help more people who feel like their hope is gone.


Thank you all so much! ❤

Danger ahead.

Gate of Nothingness by Pyrogas Sipo

The void beckons gently, quietly seduces
Mysterious and alien, glittering with the promise of answers.
I cannot resist and so against my better judgment I am pulled inside
I can’t fight its pull
and I don’t really want to

Broken shards of glass and mirrors jut from black depths
slicing my skin and stabbing deep into tender parts but still I keep moving
From back there the broken glass looked like glitter

From where did this void come? Who made it? Who put it here?
I go deeper inside to find the answers
but all I can find are more questions
I am confused and disoriented
Disappointment makes my sore feet drag in hopelessness
For I already know the source is unknowable
And yet I see something reflected there in the jagged glass

From whence does my vision come
when there is no source of light
I might be in a different universe.
I’m afraid
I want to flee

I try to twist around and fight the pull but still can only move forward
deeper into the nothingness.
I have become somebody’s puppet but who is pulling the strings?

The pull of the void transcends gravity and logic
Its physics are alien and make no sense to my earthbound brain

My mind begins to shatter like the glass
A billion broken mirrors blind me with their brilliance
even as the blood from my feet drenches the ground beneath me
I touch my bloody fingers to my lips and can taste its acridness.

A roaring, ill wind surges from far ahead
Somewhere a heavy door slams shut and I hear the click of its lock
From above me I hear a faint cry: “Leave now!”
This is my stopping place.

The wind curls around me
swoops me up and carries me on its crest back to where I began
It sets me down on hissing summer grass
My eyes adjust to an overcast sky the color of dirty sheets

There’s my world with its clouds and moon and stars and trees and houses
My world with all its ugliness and suffering and lies and broken dreams
mixed with truth and joy and beauty
Everything’s the same as it was
But it’s not the same
for within the void I found lost and broken parts of me
reflected in jagged shards of glass painted with my blood.

My journey so far: a timeline of recovery


Here I am going to show you my timeline in recovery from narcissistic abuse because I’m noticing some fascinating patterns and certain things are becoming much more clear from looking at it.

My Recovery Timeline

2006: Following my divorce, my father sent me a copy of M. Scott Peck’s book “People of the Lie.” While I was still deeply enmeshed with my psychopathic ex, and nowhere near recovery, this was the book that planted the seed for what was to start growing years later. I think this was a sign from God that I needed to make some serious changes but I didn’t recognize it at the time. But I was able, for the first time, to recognize the MNs in my life for what they truly were: evil people. Recognition is the first step in recovery, even if it takes a while to get the ball rolling.

February 2014: 8 years later, I finally had the catalyst I needed and the strength of will to get rid of my narc, who had been leeching off me, using me and manipulating me and our kids for 7 years. (I had allowed him to move back in with me in 2007, a huge mistake). This decision arose from Michael becoming violent toward our daughter. I wasn’t aware before that physical violence wasn’t necessary to obtain a restraining order–I could have obtained one at any time since we were no longer legally married. But maybe I wasn’t strong enough yet and it took an act of violence to inspire me to finally take some real action. I put up with a lot of his other shit, but violence was something I simply would not tolerate, even in my weakened state. Yes, it was scary as hell to do this, but I am so glad I did.

February – July 2014: I had to learn how to live alone again and become independent. There was a part of me that felt I actually needed him, even though he “needed” me far more. I wasn’t just afraid of what he might do if I made him leave, I was also afraid of living alone without him, though I can’t really fathom why since all he did was use and abuse me. This was a difficult and lonely time, but I began to feel a little like a person again.

July – September 2014: I began to educate myself about narcissistic personality disorder and the community of survivors of narcissistic abuse, particularly ACONs. The first blog I started to read was Dr. George K. Simon’s excellent blog, Manipulative People. I posted a few times there and “came out” there as an ACON and abuse survivor, but mostly I just read. I also ordered his excellent books, “In Sheeps Clothing” and “Character Disturbance.” (You can find the links for both his blog and the books in the Info and Support tab in the green header above.) I also found other good blogs written by survivors of narcissism and psychopathy, and among these settled on a few favorites, especially Five Hundred Pound Peep’s blog because she was Aspie like me and had a mother who sounded almost exactly like mine. (Her blog is also listed in Info and Support).

September 2014: Inspired mostly by FHPP’s blog (but others too–see Info and Support for a list of other blogs and resources I think stand out), I decided to start my own. The decision came from out of the blue–it wasn’t something I had to think about. Prior to that, I had always been afraid to start a blog–I thought it would be too hard. But on September 10th it was like I got struck by lightning and without even thinking about it I went to WordPress (after first trying Blogspot and finding it required me to use my real name because it’s connected to Google) and immediately started a blog. In retrospect, I think this action was actually inspired in me by God. I was finally strong enough to start my own course of self therapy (and unbenownst to me, help others in the process of helping myself).

September – November 2014: While my blog wasn’t an immediate hit and started off quite slowly, I had several “mentors” along the way, such as OM from Harsh Reality, who helped me make my blog more visible and got me more followers. At first writing seemed like a chore sometimes and I had to discipline myself to write a post a day (and sometimes I skipped a day or two). Sometimes I wrote two. After a while I found that I couldn’t stop writing (and now I write about 3-5 a day!)

My early posts were almost as likely to be about topics besides narcissism (music, religion, funny rants, photos, etc.). It was good practice, but sometimes I think I was trying to distract myself from the real issue I needed to confront. Posting fluff pieces allowed me to avoid that, but still gave me practice writing and blogging every day.

By November I was addicted and rather than blogging seeming like a chore or work, it was becoming a passion. I was a writing maniac! I couldn’t seem to stop writing, and if you look at “Archives,” every month I have more posts than the last. I realized with great relief and joy that I had never lost my writing ability and this is actually my strongest method of communication. I began to build a small following. I had never known how to use the writing gift God gave me and didn’t think I could ever help anyone using it, especially myself. But all that was being proven wrong again and again.

During the same period of time, I began to explore spirituality and religion. Many of my posts are about my spiritual journey from near-agnosticism and even a slight antagonism toward Christianity, but sometime in October, through a sequence of events (the posts are under “My Story” in the green header), I settled on becoming a Catholic. It’s Christianity (though I know some Christians disagree!) but doesn’t go against my deep love and respect for science and other beliefs I hold dear that I cannot let go of. I have never liked the hellfire and brimstone doctrine of fundamentalist Christianity; but Catholicism isn’t wimpy and wishy washy either, like some liberal Protestant churches. I also love the Eucharist and all the ritual (for aesthetic reasons–I know ritual isn’t important in salvation). While I don’t agree with all Catholic doctrine, much to my surprise I found myself agreeing with most of it. I signed up for RCIA classes (Rite of Christian Initiation) at the local Catholic church and have been attending those and weekly Bible studies regularly. I will be accepted into the Catholic church at their Easter mass. I am very excited!


I believe now there was a very good reason for my becoming a Christian and strengthening my belief in Jesus Christ as God and savior when I did. Never before in my life had I been able to understand the concept of the Trinity or the concept of Jesus as a tripartate person of One God, or why he would have sacrificed himself for us on the Cross. Suddenly I found myself understanding these concepts and beginning to internalize them. Yes, I still have doubts and I still have problems with the Bible, and have not had any sudden, earthshattering conversion like Saul/Paul, but from my agnosticism of a couple of months back, I have gradually come to accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior, and that prepared me for the next step in my journey, because I was about to enter a very dark and potentially dangerous place for anyone who does not have a strong faith. It could have been my undoing, but is proving to be anything but.

November – December 2014: In mid-November, I watched “I Psychopath” for the second time and became fascinated with its subject, self-proclaimed narcissist Sam Vaknin, whose excellent (if rather scholarly and ponderous) writings about narcissism and narcissistic abuse are exhaustive and highly available to anyone who wants to read them. I wrote an article about my observations about the film, and Sam himself not only commented several times on my post, he shared it on social media so that in a matter of a day or two, I saw a spike in my stats like I’d never seen before. It was unreal.

I wrote a followup a few days later; the same thing happened. I started to read his personal journals and diaries, and found myself deep inside his strange psyche. I wanted to write a biography about him. A narc who was that insightful and (inadvertently) helped so many people was such an oxymoron I had to find out as much as I could about why someone could be like that. But in reading his honest but highly emotional journals and the devastating abuse that led to him developing NPD, I was feeling myself starting to be drawn to a very dark place. I couldn’t explain it, but I began to feel like I was losing focus on my OWN recovery, and the recovery of fellow ACONs and focusing entirely too much attention on one man’s disorder, for which there is no known cure.

So I decided last week to put the book idea on the back burner, until I am stronger and have gone further in my recovery journey. While I’m still reading his writings, it’s for education, not to focus all my attention on a project about someone else that would eclipse my own recovery. I prayed about this and felt that God had gave me the answer: keep this idea in your mind but put it on the back burner until you’re emotionally and spiritually stronger. Delving too deeply into a disordered mind like Vaknin’s at this point in my journey without proper armor could be mentally and spiritually dangerous.

So I moved on, but have found within the past week or so that my blog posts have become much deeper, darker and more focused on the supernatural and “evil” nature of NPD. My posts have also become a lot more personal and confessional. I’m digging deeper into the disorders of those who raised me.

While this might seem like a negative thing, it isn’t. Because looking at narcissism this way is giving me clarity and more incentive than ever to fight against its evil. We can’t fight against something or really deal with it on a deeper level until we understand its true nature (without allowing ourselves to be exposed to it). I am very careful not to engage with real-life narcissists or only engage with them as often as I absolutely must. This way, I am removed from it while at the same time I can study it at close range the way an astronomer can study the stars under a high powered telescope: he is not out there in the stars, but can study them with with objectivity and distance.


In my last post I described a powerful nightmare that stuck with me all day today (I did wind up going to work after all). I won’t analyze it piece by piece, but I think it was both a warning and a revelation: to move forward but tread carefully into the study of malignant narcissism and how it’s infected my family, because to be too hasty and dive too deep too soon in my present still fairly weak spiritual state could be my undoing.

I could be entering dangerous territory where I myself could be taken over by evil (represented at the end of the dream–I believe the robot-like “host” was actually a demon or the devil himself, who controlled everything in that house; and my inability to escape (except through waking) because the car (that represented God and light) that was to take me away had left. I did have the presence of mind to tell the devil to “go fuck himself” but that may have enraged him too. But the fact that through my terror I still had a fighting spirit and was willing to take him proved I have some strength of will now that I never had before. I think this dream was a warning to take things slowly and only with God by my side as my protector and guide.
Because when we are dealing with the subject of malignant narcissism, we are dealing with evil itself. My growing relationship with God is important to help me resist those evils even while exploring them in more depth.

God makes all things happen only when we are ready.

The poem I wrote yesterday was similar to my dream and very much related to it. In it, I was told I “passed the test” which I think means my “primary education” (being raised and abused by MNs and psychopaths most of my life) is now no longer necessary and now I’m ready to begin the next level of self discovery.

Over these past few months I’ve become less depressed and much happier overall. I feel for the first time in my life like God has a clear plan for me, I have a future and everything that led up to this was a test and an education. I feel like I’m being called to eventually help other victims find their way out of the barbed wire jungle of psychopathy and narcissism.

Why making your own timeline is a good idea.

Making a timeline is an exercise you can do too. You can chart out your own timeline of recovery in a similar manner and it will become much clearer how far you’ve come and what patterns have developed. You can also see where you may need to shift your focus if you have become stuck or are finding yourself in a dark place.

Timelines can also give you some idea of the next steps you may need to take. You can learn a lot about yourself and your recovery from doing this. You don’t have to make it public like I’ve done; you can do it with pen and paper and just keep it for your own reference. Seeing any kind of physical representation of your journey to recovery can give you an amazing amount of clarity and focus. Making a recovery timeline can act like a good pair of glasses.


Staying Balanced.

I think lately I’ve been focusing a little too much on the dark side of narcissism (well, it IS dark) but there is a good reason for that right now.

Still, I think everyone (including me) needs an antidote to all this darkness. So my next post after this will be about something positive or practical instead of something dark. It might even be about another subject besides NPD. It might even be a fluff post!

I want this blog to remain interesting to the followers who are reading it for other reasons. Not all my followers are ACONS or victims of other psychopathic relationships. I used to post more about other things but a lot of things have been happening to me from blogging about it and that’s why I seem to post less now about other topics that are more “fun” than narcissism. But we all need a break from it sometimes.