12 reasons why I don’t like autumn.

ugly_autumn
In my neck of the woods, this is what Autumn looks like.

Yesterday was the first cool-ish day we’ve had since May.   While the lower temperature felt nice, I also noticed for the first time that some of the trees are beginning to change colors.  It was also overcast and gloomy, and I realized that my SAD symptoms have kicked in full bore.   I just felt like crawling into bed to escape from the sadness I felt.   After winter, fall is my least favorite season.   Here are 12 reasons why I hate it.

1.  Around here, the “changing colors” just means the trees change from green to brown to bare.  A few turn this unattractive shade of deep maroon or this dirty looking yellow, but unless you go up to the Parkway, we really don’t get the brilliant fall colors you see in places further north, like Vermont.   To me, fall is not only not pretty,  it’s actually sort of ugly.  The traditional “fall colors”–gold, brown, red and orange–look like ’70s colors to me–I much prefer the ’80s colors of spring.

2.  Everyone crowing about how great fall is.   Shut up.  Please.  Just shut up.

3.  I have to deal with the school traffic again every morning on my way to work.

4. “Pumpkin spice” everything.  Makes me want to puke in my mouth.   Take your damn pumpkin scents and flavors (newsflash–pumpkin tastes like nothing) and GTFO.

5.  It gets dark early and it’s dark when you get up for work, and every day is darker and shorter than the last.

6.  The gloom.  November and December are the worst, but October is guilty too.  Gray, overcast, dark, rainy, and depressing doesn’t bode well for my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). And in late fall, around here it rains.   And rains. And rains.  And it’s not the life-giving, energizing sudden showers of spring, it’s all-day-and-all-night-long, cold, dismal, continuous drizzle that sometimes turns icy and makes you want to go hibernate until spring.

7.  All the “fall-foliage” seeking idiots who clog the roads on their way to the Parkway. Go to Vermont instead. The colors there are much nicer.

8.  Fake, over-commercialized holidays — in particular the extended Christmas season which seems to start earlier every year–which seem intended to bring some “cheer” to the gloomy last half of fall, but really just makes everyone a nervous wreck instead because of its unrealistic expectations of “family togetherness,” over the top commercialization, and extravagant gift-giving that no one can really afford.  Oh, and let’s not forget Thanksgiving, with its heavy, fatty, depressing food and its gross PUMPKIN pie.  And these days, Thanksgiving is eclipsed by Black Friday anyway, which now starts on Thanksgiving, so all the turkey stuffed lemmings go rushing out to stand on line all night in the rainy cold for a new flat screen TV.  Halloween is okay, but is overrated as f.

9. I could give a rat’s arse about football, and that’s all anyone talks about besides their holiday plans.

10.  Fall means winter is coming and winter is torture to me on every level.

11. Let’s stop denying it.  In the fall, everything’s dying.  Those “brilliant colors” you see for about two weeks?  It’s just the leaves  attempting to get your attention one last time before they drop dead and turn into worm-food, that’s all.

12.  Once you get into the months ending in -ber, you know one more year is in its death throes and for some reason that’s really depressing.

Fall2008
A sad little twig with its wilting, dying leaves just makes me want to cry.

*****

Further reading:

My Seasonal Affective Disorder makes me want to hibernate until spring.

A meaningful life.

Image

meaningfullife

A spider’s dinner.

I saw this scene in a customer’s window today.  Click on to see it even more close up!

spider_dinner

I’m sorry about the Trump ads.

imsorry

I just noticed a Donald Trump campaign ad in the sidebar.   Some of you may have seen these as well and maybe even wondered why on earth I was running Donald Trump ads on my blog.

Please be aware that I have no control over the ads that get placed here.    I’m part of WordPress’ WordAds program and do not get to choose the ads.

Is narcissism really a form of possession?

demon

I usually avoid topics like this, because of their obvious religious implications.   I try to avoid getting too religious on this blog, but I must write about it because I’ve been thinking about this topic all day and I won’t rest until I do.    I’m going to try to stay away from religious terminology though.

A young man I know on another site who insists he has NPD (but has no official diagnosis and therefore may not be one) says he can remember when he “chose” to be a narcissist, and now wishes he hadn’t. He’s adamant that it’s too late to change and nothing can be done.   He said he felt as if his false self was “installed” and didn’t actually come from himself at all.

His story got me thinking.  What if narcissism really is a form of possession?  (I hesitate to use the term “demonic,” although it could be).  What if it’s a kind of choice that’s made and that once it’s made, an outside spirit or entity or whatever it is, lets itself in and it begins to obliterate the true self?

We know that people with NPD have a false self, and we know it’s a lie whose purpose is to hide the true self even from the person themselves, to the point that they believe the lie and actually believe the false self is who they really are. But where exactly does this false self come from? How does a child know how to build such an elaborate defense mechanism that works nearly the same from one narcissist to the next? It’s like there’s a rule book that all narcissists follow.   How can that be?   Are they of a hive mind?  Or is it something else entirely?

Installation of the false self.

Let’s imagine this false self is actually not something  you constructed as a defense mechanism to escape from your true self and bury your pain for good. Let’s imagine something else–that it’s something from outside of you, something that’s been installed. Call it demonic possession, if you wish–that’s probably the closest thing we can imagine to what I’m describing.  The false self isn’t created by you because it never was a part of you–it’s probably not even something human. It was installed there at a time when you think you needed it, most often when you were very young and defenseless and were faced with this yawning, vast, terrifying emptiness caused by not being validated, mirrored and loved when you needed it most. A young child or toddler who feels rejected has not yet learned to separate themselves from the parents, usually the mother–so the rejection feels like an annihilation. It feels like you are dying.

At that moment, when you feel this unbearable reality–because it’s real to you even though it isn’t actually real–of being snuffed out of existence–this entity comes along, an entity who promises something better, a way out, a way to feel “alive” again. M. Scott Peck talked about this in his book “People of the Lie.”   The entity lies to you and tells you your life will be much easier and you can get rid of that awful feeling of emptiness if only you let it in.   It doesn’t tell you what it’s really going to be doing to you is destroying your soul and the souls of others by proxy.

There’s only one catch–in order to keep working, the entity must feed off the emotions of others, because when it takes over you, it pushes down your own emotions so you can’t feel them anymore. It obscures your pain and emptiness so you don’t have to feel those emotions, but it throws out the baby with the bathwater: it also obscures any sublime emotions like love, empathy, joy, sadness, and gratitude. If other people aren’t available for this thing to feed off of, the entity will starve and you are back to where you started–feeling like you no longer exist and facing that awful emptiness.

Faced with a choice. 

You have a choice–you can invite the entity in or not. It never forces itself on you. You may remember standing at such a crossroads when you were very young. I know I did.  I “test drove” narcissism for awhile, but ultimately rejected it.   Playing with narcissism is like playing with fire.   It’s not something you want to mess with.

If you’re an empath, you probably will reject it and choose to suffer rather than invite it in, because as an empath, you can feel its malignancy and know it will destroy your soul eventually, and the souls of others by proxy. If you reject the invitation, it will go away and leave you alone, but you might develop C-PTSD or BPD or become codependent, and allow yourself to continue to be abused and rejected without any defenses against the pain and emptiness inside.  But your real self remains intact and you don’t have to walk around wearing a mask all the time and hurting others to keep that mask on.

If you’re desperate enough–or can’t sense how evil this thing really is, you will be tempted to say yes and allow it inside. It probably won’t be a conscious choice.  It’s not something you THINK about and then decide, like what shoes you’re going to wear  that day.  It’s a choice made on the spiritual level so even a very young child can do it. It could happen later in childhood, or during adolescence or even early adulthood.  It’s a spiritual version of “if you can’t fight ’em, join ’em.”   An example might be a socially awkward boy who faces a group of sociopathic bullies every day and is given a dare:  set another kid’s house on fire and be accepted by the group, or continue to be bullied.   So he chooses to do what the bullies say, in exchange for acceptance.  What he doesn’t realize is what that does to his soul.  Faced with cognitive dissonance–unbearable guilt over what he did even though it was against everything he believed in–he resolves this by identifying with the bullies and represses his guilt and shame.   Soon his behavior begins to change and he begins to act less socially awkward and even becomes “cool”–but he also starts to act arrogant and entitled.  He no longer accepts blame for his actions and begins to play mind games with others.  He seems more confident–but he’s actually in much worse shape than he started because he isn’t even himself anymore.   He’s a puppet for the evil entity that used the promise of “acceptance” as the carrot on the stick–and now resides inside him and has no intention of leaving.

Becoming a puppet.

If narcissism is a form of possession, than narcissists are just puppets being operated by an outside force that is not them.   For awhile at least, the true self is still there, but it’s no longer able to emerge at will because it’s been repressed by a more powerful force that keeps it at bay.

The entity lies to you and you begin to believe those lies.  The biggest lie it tells you is that your false self is your true one, and the true self was a lie. It twists things around so black is white, and up is down and day is night. You don’t even know what’s real anymore, and so a fantasy becomes reality and reality is sent down the river in a tarpaper boat.

The NPD spectrum and perfect and imperfect possession.

If narcissism is a form of possession , it’s still possible for it to run on a kind of spectrum, though not the kind of spectrum referred to in the mental health profession.   In “People of the Lie,” M. Scott Peck talked about “perfect” and “imperfect” possession. Malignant narcissists are perfectly possessed–which basically means that the entity has completely obscured the true self, making it utterly inaccessible, or possibly even destroyed it. Such a person cannot become self aware or even if they somehow become aware of their own narcissism, there’s no desire to change, because there’s nothing left of the true self; if it’s not destroyed, it no longer has a voice and there’s no conscious awareness of its existence.  This is a person who has become evil, but they aren’t inherently evil because they’re no longer who they once were–they have become whatever has taken up residence within them.

Narcissists lower on the spectrum are imperfectly possessed–which means the entity hasn’t completely obscured the true self. Such people are not evil–they are victims of an evil entity that is trying to take control over them. If they have realized what they have become and no longer want it, they become engaged in a kind of spiritual warfare.  You may notice some lower spectrum narcissists can be very changeable, almost Jekyll-and-Hyde-ish.    From time to time their true self will appear, sometimes even without a grave loss of supply. That’s when they may admit they want help and when they’d be most receptive to it.   For non-malignant narcissists who are ego-dystonic, therapy could work, but there MUST be a spiritual component in the therapy itself.   M. Scott Peck believed narcissists (even though he didn’t call them that in his book) who are not perfectly possessed (in other words, not malignant) can be cured by exorcism.  It doesn’t even have to be done by a priest or minister–it can be done by a trained therapist too. Peck described the 2 exorcisms he performed in his book, “Glimpses of the Devil.”

Usually I’m very skeptical about supernatural things.  Although I’m Christian, I tend to be analytical and prefer scientific explanations over religious ones.  I also tend to be very suspicious of people who immediately start talking about God and Satan and quoting the Bible whenever the subject of narcissism comes up.  But it does make sense to me that the false self  is really some kind of malicious entity that presents itself during a crisis and makes all kinds of promises to a child or young adult who feels like they’re about to be snuffed out of existence.     It’s all too easy to be taken in by the lies when you’re desperate, but once the choice is made, the thing has too much power to get rid of without spiritual intervention of some kind.   You can see it in the empty, soulless gaze or unnerving, predatory stare some narcissists have, especially if they’ve crossed the line into malignancy (or perfect possession). And it gets worse over time, which may be one reason why narcissists tend to grow worse with age. Unchecked, whatever this thing is takes over more of your original soul until you become perfectly possessed and your true self is either totally eclipsed or obliterated.  If it’s obliterated, you’re nothing more than a walking dead person–a zombie impersonating someone you never were and feeding off the energy of others.

As much as you might want to, you can’t fix a narcissist.  Don’t even think about it because you have no idea what spiritual dangers you might be taking on–but it’s certainly alright–more than alright–to pray for their deliverance.

Word of the week: Calumniate.

calumniate

A big thank you to Linda Lee for suggesting this word.

The day you realize it never was you.

“First you start to feel like maybe there never was anything wrong with you.  That perhaps the people you called family were just horrible human beings that foisted their nefarious motives on you.  They lied about you, about your worthlessness and your unlovableness and your hopeless loser life.  Lies!”

Katie, Dreams of a Better World Blog

*****

I read somewhere (sorry, I can’t remember the source) that the “truth teller” who usually becomes the scapegoat of a narcissistic family, is actually the most mentally healthy family member, even if the family has everyone convinced that person is the craziest one.

 

When the Narcissist uses God Against You

Read all about the way one woman’s narcissistic husband used religion to abuse and control her.  Comments are disabled for this post; please comment on the original post.

divorcinganarcissistblog's avatarDivorcing a Narcissist Blog

Before I met the Narcissist I pretty much identified as Atheist. I grew up being somewhat forced into the Catholic religion because my mom was raised that way. I think she felt like she wanted to give my sister and I a religious experience in life… but it always felt a bit shallow to me. My dad was raised Protestant was not particularly religious (and generally made fun of the “Heathen Catholic” religion.) My sister and I had to go to CCD classes and go through first communion and confirmation. As a family we went to church together at all of the major holidays… but I never felt a connection to God, and the religious experience was very limited to what happened at church.

I was always the kid who asked “why” and “how” in my CCD classes, constantly challenging the norm. I think most of the teachers didn’t know how…

View original post 1,558 more words

The Dangers Of Self Diagnosis

Good article about why we shouldn’t try to self diagnose. I am VERY guilty of this.

Comments here are disabled; please comment under the original post.

Rayne's avatarJourney Toward Healing

Result: 66/80
Probable diagnosis of PTSD

That’s the result from an online test that I took last night.

It started when a blogger friend wanted some advice on a post she had written. So I gave my thoughts on the situation. She was worried that maybe it was post traumatic stress (which, until this afternoon, I thought was the same thing as PTSD), so I suggested that she search for the DSM criteria on it. She came back to me and it turns out that she didn’t ‘qualify’ for the diagnosis.

By now I was curious too, and decided to also take the test. “Just for fun”. As I was reading the questions and working my way through them, I felt this chill run down my spine. Those questions struck a major chord with what I have been experiencing lately. And the high score I got at the end…

View original post 758 more words

15 things I love and hate about long road trips.

natchez-trace-parkway-photo

I adore road trips, and yesterday’s 635 mile drive from west-central Florida, to western North Carolina was no exception.   I love playing music when I drive, but since my car has no CD player and is not set up for playing pre-recorded music right now, I have to listen to the radio if I want music.  I always think it’s cool hearing the various stations fade in and out. I even love that crackle that means a station is coming in or disappearing.  It gives you that wonderful feeling of traveling for very long distances.

Here’s a list of all the things I love and hate about long road trips.

7 Things I Love.

road_trip

1. The zen-like feeling of just driving along the highway–no one but you, the car, your deep thoughts, and the road, especially very early in the morning just before or just as the sun rises.

2.  The scenery.  Even if it’s ugly, every location has its own unique “look” and it’s always interesting to see that.   Better still if the scenery is beautiful (but keep your eyes on the road!)

3. Checking out the regional fare at the gas stations and rest stops along the way.

4.  Hearing the radio stations of other states and cities.  Sometimes you get a sampling of the local accent or culture that way.  I love hearing a song I really like, and then I start jamming!   Driving and music go together like peanut butter and jelly!

5.  Seeing the first signs that you’re getting to your destination (a recognizable radio station, actual signs for your destination, the landscape changing to one you’re familiar with).  In my case yesterday, it was all these things, but mostly seeing the distant mountains when I was still in South Carolina.

6.  That feeling of relaxed sleepiness that follows a long day driving.

7.   Counting the miles and/or calculating how many there are left to go.  It appeals to my inner geek.

*****

8 Things I Hate.

Scores Of Travelers Depart For Long Holiday Weekend
Photo of San Francisco jam by David Paul Morris/Getty Images

1.  Having to pee and the next exit is still miles away.

2. Getting lost or taking the wrong exit; I also can’t stand confusing road signs.

3. Traffic.

4. Rude or incompetent drivers who don’t signal, weave in and out, cut you off, or tailgate (my worst pet peeve).

5.  Merges and busy interchanges.  They can be scary!

6. The way your back starts to hurt and your legs and butt feel numb after you’ve been driving for a very long time.  I always have to periodically stop, get out, and walk around to get rid of that feeling.  I usually have to pee or get gas too, so it works out.

7. Dropping food you’re eating while you’re driving where it can’t be easily reached until you stop.

8.  Having to pass an 18 wheeler, especially if there’s a concrete wall on your left.

*****

Further reading:

Driving Before Dawn on a Sunday Morning