The Scorpion and the Turtle

I love this old fable. The scorpion can be compared to the Narcissist. It will sting you because it’s in his nature.

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It’s always your fault!

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Thanks to my friend Nikita for this meme!

 

Monday Melody: Livin’ On a Prayer (Bon Jovi)

I’m a Jersey girl myself, so Jersey boys Bon Jovi bring back great memories of carefree summer days spent “down the shore.”   This popular 1986 hit about a young blue collar couple facing hard times is my favorite Bon Jovi song.  It never gets old.

God is my guide and mentor.

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I don’t like to get all religious on this blog, but once again, God led me to a small thing that’s exactly what my soul needs.  Just about a month ago,  I found a wonderful book of devotions in the Laundromat. Those have been so helpful and comforting to me.

Today, I decided to look at the books that were marked-down at the grocery store, in hopes of finding an entertaining novel to read.  Maybe something fun like a “beach” novel, something I could enjoy and then give away when finished.    I usually avoid “Christian” novels because they’re not usually very well written (and are sometimes too obviously religious, which I find offputting).  Be that as it may, almost immediately a book called “Crossroads” by Christian author William Paul Young (author of “The Shack“) caught my eye.  I picked it up and read the blurb on the back, and I scanned a few pages.  Well, well, well.  Crossroads seems to be a book about an egotistical businessman who apparently developed a narcissistic, cold personality as a result of some sort of horrible trauma when he was younger.   He doesn’t believe in God and is cynical, materialistic, and unhappy.   One day he suffers a brain hemorrhage and almost dies.   I won’t spoil anything else (and besides, I haven’t read it yet so I don’t know what happens) but it’s got to involve this protagonist’s spiritual transformation.

Wow.  I write about narcissism; it’s a terrible problem in the world today and lately there’s a big part of me that wants to help not only victims of narcissistic abuse, but the narcissists themselves (in some kind of professional  or spiritual setting and context, of course–I am no contact with all my former narcissists and plan to remain so).

Coincidence?  No, I don’t think it is.  Finding this book (marked down to just $4, which was exactly what I had on me in cash!) couldn’t have been more perfect for someone like me at the particular stage I am at in my healing.   I found it when I was picking up a few food items after mass this morning, during which I had become particularly emotional during the Eucharist and felt filled with the Holy Spirit.

How can I doubt God when things like this keep happening?  I know he’s leading me in a direction unique to me and that everything that happened to me was training for whatever it is he’s leading me to do.  At this point, I trust his judgment much more than mine. When I try to make my own choices without God’s guidance, I usually make terrible ones.

Word of the Week: Borborygmus

Bet you thought I forgot about this week’s word, didn’t you?

Both this week’s and last week’s words were a bit on the TMI side, but there’s something inherently funny about long and pretentious words for base things like bodily functions or parts of the body normally kept away from public view.  So, without further ado, here is this week’s selection:

 

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My guiltiest guilty pleasure.

I hate most commercial snack cakes.  But there’s just something about these I can’t resist.   The Twinkie-like cake filled with snow-white fluffy filling that tastes like chemicals and Crisco and could probably be used to embalm dead bodies.  The Fimo-like orange-flavored icing you can peel off and eat like candy.  The famous white Squiggle you can also peel off and eat by itself.    There’s probably no food that’s less healthy on earth, but who cares?  These are delicious.  The orange ones are much better than the chocolate ones, in my opinion.

hostess

Lightning Rod

Interesting thoughts here about Taylor Swift, probably the biggest megastar he music world has ever seen. I have to confess a liking for her music. I’ve always liked her music. Taylor isn’t the best singer but I rather like the wobbly vulnerability of her vocals and no one can write catchier songs. For several years (when she was a “country” artist) she came across as this sweet, innocent victim-type of girl, a girl moms didn’t mind taking their 12 year old daughters to see. But I always suspected something a little off about Taylor–that she wasn’t quite what she seemed. Is Taylor a psychopath or is she just a narcissist? I think a little of both.

Whatever she is, who would have grokked that this virginal girl next door who sings songs about love gone wrong was really a card carrying member of The Dark Triad? But that’s what psychopaths and narcissists are best at: putting on masks.

nowve666's avatarCLUSTER B

Taylor Swift

everyone’s favorite fantasy…

blank_spaceWhen I was a teen, I made some gay friends. We would watch TV together and this one was gay and that one was gay. Celebrities are almost always a repository in which to dump our own “stuff.” But nobody seems to fulfill that role better than Taylor Swift. According to various opinions, she is a really nice, unpretentious gal whose talent made famous, a danger to the morale of the country, a psychopath or a member of (victim of?) the Illuminati.

Taylor Swift, the Psychopath

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Positive Quote ~ August 4th

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Persia's avatarBlog of a Mad Black Woman

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Have a blessed day all. ❤

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If Facebook was real life.

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I’m sitting in a group therapy session for people with complex PTSD and other problems caused by childhood trauma, telling the group about the chain of events that led to my becoming the family blacksheep.   Tears trickle down my cheeks as I relate how victimized I felt by my family.  The two people on either side of me reach out to touch my shoulders.   I feel the beginning of connection, of a sense of belonging and community I never had at home, or anyplace at all.    I feel safe in this place.  I feel like my secrets will never go beyond the confines of this room.   Outside, the world may be dangerous and unfriendly, swarming with treacherous and cold-hearted people who wish me ill, but inside these walls, I feel welcomed and loved.

Suddenly the door opens.   It’s my niece, who I’ve met exactly three times in my life.  I haven’t seen her since she was a little girl.   She’s armed with an album of photos of her latest vacation and the big party the extended family threw for her on the birth of her latest child.  I wasn’t invited to this party.   She walks over to me and starts shoving the the pictures in my face, making me look.    I politely shuffle through the stack, then hand them back to her.  I feel violated and envious.  “Do you like them?” she demands.  She won’t leave until I say I do.  Apparently satisfied, she leaves.

Then someone I barely know from an old job walks in the room.  He tells me his business has really started taking off and he’s raking in so much money he is having a custom vacation home built right on the beach.   He shows me pictures of the house-in-progress he and his gorgeous new wife are building.  “Oh, yes, and we just found out she’s pregnant–with twins!” he crows.  Finally, he leaves.   I turn toward the group, ready to apologize for the rude intrusion.

But I never have a chance, because then my daughter’s  BFF from her middle school days bursts through the door, crying and cussing because her babydaddy is back on drugs and hasn’t payed child support in over a year.    My polite but sympathetic nods constitute a “Like” and satisfied with that, she leaves.   My boundaries feel like they’re under siege by this point.  I turn back toward the group, but am interrupted again.

Some stranger walks in and shoves a piece of paper at me.  I look down at it,  It’s a test called  “Which Celebrity Pet Do You Look The Most Like?”  Annoyed, I crumple it up and toss it on the floor.

A guy I’ve never seen before but who calls me “Friend”  invites me to play a game.   He starts tossing game cards at me, which contain pictures of things like barrels of apples, litters of piglets, bushels of wheat, and clucking hens.

Stop, please!  I want this room to be my sanctuary again.   I feel inhibited and self conscious now, because at any moment some random person from my past, a random relative, someone from an old job, or an old classmate might invade the room again, crashing over my boundaries.  No place is safe.

I have one more visitor.    My mother enters the room, fixes me with a penetrating stare, and tells me she heard everything I said about her in this room before all the interruptions started.    I feel like the floor just dropped out from under me, leaving me stranded in mid-air.   I stare at my mother.  Her eyes are opaque and unreadable, but her small, knowing smirk tells me everything I need to know.

One way to peg a narcissist you probably never heard of.

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It may sound ridiculous but I think this is a good way to judge a person’s character without their suspecting anything.

Chatter about movies, books, and other forms of entertainment is a standard ice breaker (and is part of the dreaded “small talk” we introverts hate so much), usually used to make polite conversation with someone you don’t know that well (of course, these things can be discussed more in depth too with closer friends and loved ones).    Movies, books, TV, and public figures are safe conversation starters.   You can talk to people about these things without seeming to cross anyone’s boundaries or getting too personal.

But such seemingly innocuous conversations can also help you peg whether or not a person is a narcissist or sociopath–without them suspecting a thing.  When you meet a new person, ask them the way you would ask anyone about movies they’ve seen and books they’ve read, and then ask them whose side they were on, or which characters they most identified with.   Of course, you must be familiar with the movie or the book, including its main characters.   Television personalities and other public figures will also do.

Narcissists can feel empathy for other narcissistic characters–characters that are like themselves.   I’ve noticed they will often feel empathy for the villain, rather than the hero/heroine.   A narcissist woman, for example, will feel simpatico with a villain like Beth Jarrett from Ordinary People, and think her behavior toward her son wasn’t that bad–she may even think he deserved it and find Jarrett’s justifications for abusing him valid.    My mother found nothing wrong with her behavior and was puzzled as to why I found it so triggering and upsetting.  (Of course I didn’t tell her why).

My mother also couldn’t understand why the the “Queen of Mean” hotelier Leona Helmsley was given such a hard time in the press over her arrogant statement, “We don’t pay taxes, only the little people pay taxes.”   She also identified with Sherman McCoy, the narcissistic, selfish, and greedy investment banker in the novel Bonfire of the Vanities, who wound up losing everything due to a chain of events stemming from a hit and run accident which McCoy was involved in.  I remember her lamenting almost tearfully about how “his beautiful life was ruined” by the events that played out in the novel.    She also couldn’t stand good, sweet Melanie, from Gone With the Wind.   I suppose Melanie could come across as a tad simpering and holier-than-thou, but my mother hated her.   The heroine of that same movie, Scarlett O’Hara, is more than a little narcissistic (or possibly Histrionic?)–charming, flirtatious, manipulative, entitled, and possessing very little empathy.  She didn’t even seem that upset when her own daughter, Bonnie, died after falling off a horse.    I never understood why Scarlett has been such a huge role model for generations of women.   She really didn’t have too many redeeming qualities when you think about it.

A  man (or woman) with NPD or psychopathy might identify or sympathize with any of Ayn Rand’s psychopathic heroes–Howard Roark from The Fountainhead or John Galt from Atlas Shrugged come to mind.   Of course, these are popular books, especially among conservatives–but holding these two highly narcissistic men up as worthy of worship might be a red flag.   Be wary of such a person.

My ex, a sociopath who has been diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder (but is really a malignant narcissist) always liked villainous characters, especially if they broke the law.  He often rooted for the bad guy (or sometimes, girl) and the more ruthless or cruel they were, the more they seemed to enthrall him.   He likes Charles Manson.   He watched South Park because he thought the sociopathic Eric Cartman was so cool.  He also rooted for the alien in Aliens.   In addition to that, he likes satanic and demonic imagery, which always disturbed me, even when I was agnostic.     We all have a touch of schadenfreude and many normal people (including yours truly) have a fascination with serial killers and other outlaws–according to Jung, that’s because we all have a shadow self that’s drawn to dark things.  But there’s a difference between fascination or morbid curiosity and actually liking these things or identifying with or sympathizing with villains, malignant narcissists, and antisocial people.

So if you’re on a date with a new person, have them take you to a movie (or take them to a movie) and see who they seem to identify with or sympathize with the most (or who they seem to dislike the most).   It could tell you a lot about that person’s character.