When I used to paint.

Posted on October 3, 2015 by luckyotter

I don’t do much painting anymore (except painting the walls in my house), but during my 20s and 30s painting–whether on ceramic tiles or canvas–was very relaxing and enjoyable to me. I sold or gave away most of my artwork, but here are two I refuse to part with.

This first painting, which is an interpretation of a National Geographic photo of mountains in the Pacific Northwest, is hanging over my mantel. There’s a dark and rather eerie moodiness to it that everyone always notices but wasn’t present in the original photograph. I didn’t believe them but I remember looking back at the photo I painted this from and realizing how right they were.

I had been married to my ex for two years at this time and I think his subtle abuse was already beginning to take a toll on my state of mind and my soul.

I used to enjoy painting on tiles too. Here’s one I painted in acrylic (before I got a kiln* and started painting with fireable ceramic paint, which are tricky to learn to use because the colors in the jars are not always the colors they’ll be after firing!)

This is actually a depiction of myself and my fiance (the same man who almost destroyed my life for the next 27 years) during the height of his “love bombing.” It was a whirlwind romance, straight out of a storybook or Harlequin romance.

Beware of men (or women) who come on strong with the romance and sweep you off your feet–they are probably predators who have targeted you as prey.

All cynicism aside, I still love this painting and it hangs in my bathroom. We’re shown far away in this idyllic (and idealistic) scene (naked in the pond, naturally!), but I thought the likeness was still pretty accurate.

* I have not had the kiln since 1993. One of my cats at the time, an unfixed male, used it to “mark” and everytime I’d fire it up after that, the smell that permeated the house was unbearable! I couldn’t even sell the thing.

The neverending rain and depression.

Posted on October 3, 2015 by luckyotter

I can’t seem to shake this seasonal funk I’m in. It’s been raining steadily for a week now–gloomy, overcast, steady rain that goes on all day and night, not the intense but shortlived thunderstorms of summer that are somehow energizing.

I don’t like fall in this part of the country. It always rains a lot, and as much as everyone crows about the “fall colors,” I don’t think they’re that special. This isn’t Vermont with its sugar maples that turn brilliant orange and red, or Colorado with its neon yellow Aspens–here the trees just look unhealthy. There’s a few spots of bright color here and there, but the numerous oaks and sycamores just turn from green to brown or a deep purplish red before they go bare for another winter. It’s depressing. Maybe up on the Blue Ridge Parkway the sight is prettier, but I don’t have a running car right now so I can’t go there.

I’ve been stuck inside my house for days, waging war on the camel crickets and the fleas I can’t seem to get rid of. I’m working a lot more. My roommate is moving on Tuesday and I haven’t found a replacement yet. It’s dark when I get up in the morning. It’s getting dark shortly after I come home from work. Yesterday was actually cold and I had to crank up the heat for the first time since April. I’m tired and draggy all the time. I barely have the energy or motivation to cook dinner. I’ve even been avoiding my friends because I just feel like I’m going to drag them down with me.

As far as my writing, the ideas have been coming like an old man’s teeth–few and far between. I’ve been resorting to either reblogging other people’s stuff, posting fluff or pictures, or recycling old articles I wrote, due to the dearth of original ideas. Actually I do have one good idea for a new long article, but I can’t seem to motivate myself to write it. I’d promise I’d write it today, but I don’t trust myself to stick to that promise. I know if I don’t though, I’ll be feeling terrible about it.

Last fall wasn’t any different from this one weather-wise, but I was new to blogging and the excitement and novelty of that kept me motivated and able to beat my SAD symptoms. I did have a lot of worries, as I recall. My daughter was still having drug issues and was facing 30 days in jail (she is doing a lot better a year later–she has matured a lot and become much more responsible). I wasn’t sure I was going to get along with my new roommate. My ex was still abusing me through text messages. But blogging was like a whole new world, it felt like doors were opening everywhere.

Sam Vaknin, the “god of narcissism,” found this blog in November (my least favorite month other than December) by Googling himself (haha!) and actually made some nice comments and shared some of my articles on his sites and social media. That gave my blog the early jumpstart it needed and I was ecstatic. As far as I know, he still comes here to read but he no longer comments or shares anything. That’s okay because this blog is doing well on its own now, without anyone’s help. But the novelty and newness of it is gone. I don’t see any new doors opening. I know I have to open those doors myself (the next step would probably be writing a book) but I just don’t seem to have the energy or motivation.

Last year at this time the ideas were almost coming too fast–it was actually frustrating because I didn’t have enough time to write about everything I wanted to write about. Now it’s all I can do to think of any original ideas at all. As far as writing about narcissism, what more is there to write about it that I haven’t already? I don’t know whether to keep the focus on narcissism, or shift the focus to general mental health, or just turn it into general purpose blog. I’m stuck. Blogging has brought me so much joy; what happened?

I feel like I’ve reached a blockade in my path to recovery. I know that isn’t really true, and it’s just depression making me feel so negative, and it’s just a matter of working through it or waiting it out. I know it will pass; it always does. But I feel like I’m running in place but going nowhere. The weather isn’t helping.

This too shall pass.

I know the only way through this is self discipline. I have to make myself write even when I don’t want to. Once I get started, I get into it and that tends to lift my mood and my imagination begins to work again. I also have to make myself get out, in spite of the gloomy weather and no car. I have the company car to drive; I can at least go up to the store in that. Walks in the light drizzly rain aren’t so bad; it isn’t freezing cold out. I haven’t been to church in several weeks either. It always make me feel good to go, but for some reason I’ve been sleeping in instead. Then I wind up feeling guilty and miserable (not because I’m offending God–I don’t think attending church is necessary to “please God”–but because I know I’m doing myself a disservice by skipping).

So today, instead of sleeping in, as I’ve been doing on weekends lately, I’m going to make myself write, make myself go out for a walk in spite of the dreary weather, maybe even take a short drive. Read a book. Clean the house (it needs it). Do something that will make me feel like one of the living. Sitting around feeling sorry for myself and sleeping half the day away is going to get me nowhere fast. I got away from my abusers, but the way I’ve been treating myself is self abuse! It’s possible to be as toxic to myself as my narcissists were to me. I know I’m not the only person in the world who struggles with this time of year. And spring is only 5 1/2 months away!

Hey, I actually wrote a new article that’s more than two sentences long! I think I feel a little better already.

Those demon camel crickets.

Posted on October 2, 2015 by luckyotter

Do you have them? I have them–probably thousands of them.

I’m referring to those horrible long-legged crickets that leap into your face and scurry like cockroaches when you turn the lights on. They dwell in dark, damp places like caves, damp basements, and in my case, a corner of my kitchen that is always damp because of a slow leak of an outside tap that has turned the soil just outside into a quicksand-like glop where nothing green can grow–but lots of other things can.

If I go into my kitchen late at night and turn on the light, I can HEAR the horrible creatures as they jump up and land on the floor. I kid you not–there are sometimes 20 of them at a time, of all sizes, and some of them are HUGE. There must be thousands more inside the wall facing the outside. The only good thing about them is they’re easy to kill. Babycat used to kill and eat them (leaving their legs behind for me to clean up, ewww), but she’s not with me anymore, and my two remaining cats are too lazy to be of any use. They’d rather hunt big game like mice and voles outside.

I’m trying not to think about the fact the inside of the wall of my kitchen facing the outside probably looks like this. 😮

The type of cricket I’m talking about are called “camel crickets” (Rhaphidophoridae) because their back is arched like a camel’s. They are also called “sprickets” colloquially because of their resemblance to large spiders. The first time I encountered one, it terrified me. I understand that’s a common reaction. But I’ve gotten so used to them that now they just disgust and annoy me.

They’re pretty easy to kill, unlike the fleas I’ve also done battle with (this year being no exception, in spite of far fewer animals in the house). They will leap and try to get away, but often they just sit there and let you crush them. It doesn’t take much to destroy a camel cricket. Their exoskeletons appear to be very thin and easy to crush. Their legs don’t appear to be tightly attached, and more often than not, they fall off when you try to pick the dead insect up with a paper towel. I actually read they shed their legs when they feel threatened by a predator. It doesn’t seem too survival oriented, but actually there’s a reason for them doing this. A predator is so startled by the cricket dropping a leg, that while inspecting it, the insect makes its escape.

How nice of them to leave me a gift.

Next Wednesday the landlord is coming out to fix the leak that’s causing all the dampness–and the infestation of the demon sprickets.
There’s no way a God of any benevolence created this hideous evil bugs. They seem to have come straight from the bowels of hell.

Getting rid of Camel Crickets: http://colinpurrington.com/tips/camel-crickets
Good advice and good for a chuckle too.

Me and Ouija.

Posted on October 2, 2015 by luckyotter

Mandatory Credit: Photo by Jon Santa Cruz / Rex Features (582062k)
Ouija board with pointer
VARIOUS – 2006

I just read a post by Linda Lee on her blog, in which she talks about a bad experience she had with a Ouija board at the age of 14. That brought back a memory of my own bad experience with one when I was 16.

I don’t like to mess around with the occult. I’m not particularly superstitious, but I err on the side of caution, and my religion frowns on dabbling in the occult anyway. I make a slight exception for astrology; although I don’t really believe in it, it’s a great deal of fun and I don’t take it seriously, so I don’t see a problem with reading my horoscope, even if just so I can laugh at its inaccuracy later on, or how it’s so general it could apply to all of the other 11 zodiac signs.

Crystal balls, tarot cards, tea leaves, numerology–these things don’t creep me out, but they don’t interest me either, and most of it just seems rather absurd to me.

But Ouija boards are another matter. When my daughter was 16 a friend gave her a Ouija board (this seems almost like some rite of passage for teens) and I wouldn’t allow the thing into my house. She snuck it in anyway, and when I found it I tossed it in the trash–down the street. Marketed as a “game” by the Parker Brothers game company, Ouija boards give me the heebie jeebies. I don’t even want to look at one. There’s a reason for my discomfort with this “toy.”

When I was 16 (the same age my daughter was when she tried to bring one into the house), my boyfriend and I spent hours in his room consulting Ouija. We used to ask it about our future as a couple, how many kids we were going to have, where we would live, etc. (We broke up less than a year later. He’s currently program director of a well known New York area radio station and has 3 sons with his attorney wife, while I’m divorced and take care of my 2 cats on a housekeeper’s income. How our lives have diverged).

Anyway, back when I was 16 and my boyfriend was 17, we’d rush home after school to find out what Oiuja had to say. It was very addictive, and soon I found myself playing with it by myself, alone in my room. Several years earlier, the movie The Exorcist had come out. You may remember it was about a girl who became possessed by a demon after playing with a Ouija board alone, just like I was doing. I paid that no mind, even though the movie did scare me when I’d seen it. With the fearlessness of the young, I continued to ask it questions. I’d rest my fingers lightly on the white plastic planchette, and slowly the thing would begin to slide across the lettered and numbered wooden board, resting on “Yes,” “No,” or sometimes even spelling out a word, a name, or a number.

I thought this was all pretty cool, until one day when I was thinking hard about a question (which I can’t remember), and had not yet placed my fingers on the planchette. I looked down at the board and incredibly, the thing was moving all by itself! I watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as it spelled out the answer, all by itself.

I was afraid to touch it. I just watched, my eyes growing wider every second. I began to shake and felt the blood drain from my face. I had a strong feeling someone–or something–was in the room with me. The lights in the room flickered.

At that point, I picked up the entire board and the cardboard box that housed it, and ran with it to the incinerator down the hall (my mother and I were living in an apartment in a high rise). Without a second thought, I shoved it down the chute and slammed the metal door shut.

As I ran back to our apartment, I thought I heard someone calling my name. I ran inside, locked the door, and put on all the lights. I immediately took a shower because I felt contaminated from having touched the thing.

From that day forward, I never went near another Ouija board. I’m convinced those things are NOT something to be messed around with. I’ve known a lot of people who’ve described similar experiences using them.

Housemate blues.

Posted on October 1, 2015 by luckyotter

As some of you may know, my housemate (the same one I was complaining about several months back for her “narcissistic” ways) is moving out on the 6th, which is 5 days away.

While Stacey and I are never going to be the best of friends, I’ve grown to like her. She’s lived here for a little over a year, has been very reliable, always pays her rent on time without complaint, and cleans up the house without being asked. Yes, she is annoying in some ways, but to be honest, I’m not wild about having to have any housemate at all so anyone would probably annoy me just by their presence. I’m really not much of a people person, especially when they have to live with me under the common roof of a very small house. I consider myself extremely lucky to have found someone like Stacey.

I thought she was a narcissist at first, because she can be so manipulative and needy, and she seemed to invade my boundaries a lot at first, but she’s learned to respect my boundaries once I made them clear. She also has high levels of empathy, is generally very kind, and seems to be the codependent type. We’ve had a few heart to heart conversations and it turns out she comes from an abusive home too and was married to a narcissist for many years, just like me. I don’t know what her psychological problem is, but it’s not narcissism. I’m thinking she may have BPD or Dependent Personality Disorder, or just plain old PTSD. Or even nothing at all.

Anyway, her leaving in a few days makes me sad. She’s got a daughter in Florida who has a spare room so I don’t blame her for preferring to move back with them rather than stay with a half crazy borderline like myself in a state in which she knows no one and doesn’t even really like much. And she’ll get to see her granddaughters all the time too. I know how much she misses them.

I catch myself talking down to her sometimes, as if she’s stupid. I’m not always the most patient person. I feel bad about that. She isn’t that stupid. But I lose patience sometimes. I always wind up apologizing. I told her the other day what a great housemate she’s been and that I would miss her. I thought she was going to cry.

I used to complain about how annoying she was, but now that she’s leaving, I’m sad. I wish she was staying. I have an ad out again, and so far, no one who’s called has been suitable. I really hope I can get a new housemate as reliable and trustworthy (and quiet) as Stacey has been, but I feel like I might not be that fortunate again. There is a gay man who seems promising though. I haven’t met him yet.

I really wish I could afford to just live alone without any housemate at all. I hate having to interview a bunch of people I don’t know, and turn down most of them. But I need someone to help share the expenses.

This Father Wrote His Bullied Daughter a Song to Let Her Know how Special She is

Posted on October 1, 2015 by luckyotter

This warmed my heart. Pass it on.

Kindness Blog

Bullying is a huge problem in schools around the world, which leaves thousands of kids a year feeling insecure and abused.

This foul treatment can cause both physical and emotional distress. The reality is that almost every kid experiences bullying in some way, so if you haven’t, you’re very lucky.

When this little girl told her dad that she was being bullied, he decided that he needed to tell her how special she really is.

He sat down and wrote a poem, which he then put to music, and created a song meant to inspire not only his own kids, but kids across the country who are dealing with bullying and harassment.

This dad is no stranger to viral fame. He once wrote a song to his wife about how he wished she loved herself more, which you can check out here.

We hope Khari Touré continues to make…

View original post 19 more words

Otter table.

Posted on October 1, 2015 by luckyotter

I think these otter tables by artist Marvin Elliott are amazing. I love the way the otters form a yin yang and the glass is sculpted to look like moving water.

http://www.sculptorcarver.com/otter_tables.html

Psychiatry proves how crazy I am.

Posted on September 29, 2015 by luckyotter

In case anyone’s interested, these are the ones I am aware of (some are self-identified).

April-June 1996 hospitalization for major depression/suicidal ideation:
BPD/AvPD (Borderline and Avoidant PDs); PTSD; Major Depressive Episode (provisional bipolar I); GAD (generalized anxiety disorder); Panic Disorder.

1997 short term hospitalization:
BPD; PTSD; dysthymia; GAD

Self diagnoses:
Aspergers syndrome (2005-2015)
NPD: covert, cerebral type (2015-)
Seasonal Affective Disorder (fall/winter type)

Personality type:
Myers-Briggs INFJ; Enneagram 4w5 or sometimes 5w4.

Lucky Otter’s Haven is growing up!

Posted on September 28, 2015 by luckyotter

Graph showing how this blog has grown since October 2014 (September 2014 is not available but was even lower than October). I remember thinking 50 views a day was a big deal (that’s about where “Down The Rabbit Hole” is at right now, but I don’t ever expect that blog to ever have the same draw as LOH, because it has a much narrower focus than this one and a much more limited audience.)

The abnormally high views for May were due to a controversial article that attracted an undue amount of negative attention. Controversial articles do get you seen! (But I hate having haters).

The numbers at the bottom are for September 2015, highlighted in orange on the graph.
Click image to enlarge.

I’ve been reluctant to post the good news about my stats, because it might make me seem too narcissistic, but hell, I’m proud of this, and I want to brag! I think anyone would want to crow a little.

This month, I probably won’t quite reach 40K views, but it will be close enough.
This blog now averages well over 1,000 views a day and is creeping up into the neighborhood of 1200-1300 per day in the past few weeks.

I can actually afford to get a bit lazy sometimes now. I’ve reached the point, after a little over a year of blogging, where I need not even post new stuff every day for LOH to continue to get hits and new viewers. That’s because a few of my articles have become self-perpetuating magnets to this blog. In other words, several articles (some posted quite a long time ago–many of them are listed under “Most Popular Posts” in the sidebar) are now appearing at the top of Google for related search terms, so whenever people use those search terms in Google my articles are the first ones they see. The continued views keep them at the top of Google so they continue to get hits every day.
That’s why using appropriate search terms (tags, categories, and making sure the term is somewhere in your title) is so important. I’m learning all this stuff as I go along.

This is good, because it’s a motivator, and those of you who follow LOH know I haven’t been feeling particularly motivated lately. So this helps!

Now I can set some goals. WP’s November challenge (Nano Poblano or whatever it was called last year) is looming on the horizon and that will motivate me to post every day, the way I have been until recently. It’s my hope that by the end of this year (where did this year GO, anyway???), LOH will be getting 50K or more views per month.

It also is great that the views/viewer ratio is about 2:1. That means that for the 32.4K views I have for September so far, there have only been 16K viewers, which means viewers are looking at more than the one article they found by searching on Google (and other search engines). They are finding reason to stick around and look at other things too.

This kind of made my day. 😀

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

Posted on September 27, 2015 by luckyotter

Graph I made showing my mood pattern throughout the year. It’s this way every year.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my SAD.

SAD is triggered by the lack of light and shortening days for those affected with it. During the shorter days the brain produces more melatonin, a naturally occurring hormone that induces sleepiness in certain animals, like bears. It’s the reason why some mammals hibernate until the warmer, longer days of spring. Unfortunately, some humans retain this biological urge to hibernate, but because we must continue to live productive lives, our natural urge to sleep is ignored and seasonal depression is the result.

I seem to suffer from a weird form of SAD. The fall is much more depressing to me than winter. Most people with SAD feel terrible in late fall AND all winter. But for me, I start feeling depressed sometime in mid-August, when the days are growing noticeably shorter. Obviously, for me, the heat as nothing to do with it.

My SAD really kicks in once Fall officially starts and the trees start changing colors. My worst months are by far November and December. I absolutely hate them. I can’t stand the holidays (too stressful), so they do nothing to lighten or bring cheer to my low mood. All I want to do is curl into a little ball and hibernate until early spring.

In mid-late fall, everything looks so grim and barren to me–shades of gray, brown, and black, and everything is dying/going to sleep. The cold, gloomy, overcast days don’t help either. It’s dark when I get up and dark when I come home from work. It’s everything I can do to drag myself through these dark, depressing days.

Although I hate ice and cold and snow, sometime around the end of January (which I read is statistically the most depressing month of the year) my mood begins to perk up as my body begins to notice the lengthening days. Actually, I feel relief after the first day of winter, just knowing the days are going to get longer for 6 more months. I feel even more relief once the Holiday season is over (which I find really stressful).

My mood continues to improve until mid-late spring, then starts to level off, until early August when it starts to sink again.

My mood is at it’s highest around the end of April/early May. I have no idea why. Maybe because the days are fairly long by then, but the oppressive heat (which I don’t really like) hasn’t kicked in yet.

I think it might also have to do with the fact there are so many happy colors in the spring–and they aren’t the dreary 1970s-like browns, golds and oranges of fall. They’re more like 1980s colors–or even 1960s colors in some cases (and weren’t both those decades less depressing than the 1970s?) Everything isn’t all the same boring shade of green the way it is in summer either. I love spring.

My body/brain seems to mimic the cycle of hibernating animals–except that in the winter I actually feel better than in the fall. That I can’t really figure out because I hate cold weather so much (and it’s coldest here in February, but my mood is not that bad anymore by then).

I face this same strange pattern every single year. I’m coming into the worst of it in about another month or so. Blah.

For further reading: How to Beat Seasonal Affective Disorder/Winter Blues: