Because several of you asked…

Posted on January 31, 2015 by luckyotter

A few of you asked me to go into more detail about Molly’s ex Paul and exactly what made me realize he was a malignant psychopathic narcissist. So I am doing that now.

Paul was smoking crack, which is easy to hide because it doesn’t smell that much and a person can still act sort of normal when high on crack. He seemed to have a hair-trigger temper though, which is common in both crackheads (I’ve known a few and they’re all quick to rage) and narcs.

So here we have a crackhead narc, a ticking time bomb. My daughter knew about the crack, but because he continued to give such a nice, mature, intelligent impression (the guy was very intelligent) no one believed her (because she’s had a history of drug use) ; the weird behavior she displayed at his house on Christmas wasn’t her on drugs (which he said it was). Her behavior was because she was scared and depressed and having panic attacks (another thing she suffers from) because of all the mental and borderline physical abuse (he would threaten but didn’t actually hit her) she was undergoing while she lived with him.

I felt so horrible when I realized I’d been turned into a flying monkey against my own kid, who was definitely the victim.
Maybe it was some kind of weird karma, because when she was younger those roles were reversed: she’d been used by my ex as a junior flying monkey against me.
The talk we had cleared everything up.

When I look back at things now, I realize there was something a little “off” about Paul that I couldn’t put my finger on. He seemed perfect: older (38 and mature), good job as a med tech, nice home in a nice neighborhood, good looking, and very nice and friendly. What’s a mom not to love? He told me he loved my daughter — this was 3 weeks after they met. He was moving so fast. She wasn’t comfortable with moving that fast but played along partly because she didn’t want to disappoint me (Hell, I wanted to date him myself!)

But there were so many red flags we both chose to ignore. And I say chose because I did see them.

I did think it was odd that he was 16 years older than her (she’ll be 22 in April) but rationalized that at least it wasn’t some 22 or 23 year old jobless basement dweller playing video games and smoking pot all day (like a couple of her exes were like). I thought he was too old, but thought that might be a good thing.

It would have been fine had he not been a predator. He was actually telling her he wanted her to have his baby! A month after they met. He has two kids right now, ages 9 and 2, he never sees and isn’t allowed to see. He also came to North Carolina suddenly, with no plan. He said some people in Florida (where he moved from) were stalking him. Another red flag. And all he talks about is his son all the time but his baby daughter–it’s as if she doesn’t exist to him. (They had two different mothers). He is apparently not on good terms with either of them.

Also, when he took my daughter down to Florida in November, they stayed two days and made the rounds visiting all HIS friends and family (and making “secret” trips where my daughter would be told to stay in the car and wait–VERY suspicious!) , but when my daughter asked to go see her brother (who was about 5 miles away from where they were staying), the psychopath told my daughter he didn’t have enough gas. He knew full well how much they had been looking forward to seeing each other. She hasn’t seen her brother since last March.

I think Molly’s whole experience of living with a psychopathic narc was meant to teach her something and wake her up from her own descent into narcissism. Before she met him she was very narcissistic and abusing drugs. She was making terrible choices.

Since this experience(which we talked about in the conversation I posted about), she put two and two together. She knows all about narcissism and psychopathy because I talk to her about it a lot, and she herself identified him as a narcissist without my having to tell her. She says she realized she was becoming a narcissist herself because now she’ s been the victim of one and sees how immoral her behavior had been.

I hate to say this, but Molly’s 30 days in jail probably helped too. She had time to read a lot (something she usually won’t choose to do on her own) and think things over. She realized how “bad” she was, and wants to change.

So I think she may be borderline, but may also be at that point I was back in 1985 when my friend’s calling me out and telling me she couldn’t be my friend anymore because of my narcissistic behavior, woke me up and made me stop myself before I slid down the rabbit hole into true narcissism. That ex-friend was actually being the best friend I could have had at that moment, even though I was devastated over her rejection of me. I believe she saved me from developing NPD.

Some things happen because they’re a wake up call from God. Perhaps his purpose was to educate her about herself in a unusual and painful way. It probably took something that dire to save her from herself.

Here are all the red flags we chose to ignore:

1. They met in a mental health facility-a 5 day drug rehab program. Probably not the ideal way to meet a potential suitor. (Both were also diagnosed with PTSD, depression and anxiety–that doesn’t mean he’s not a narc–they often have comorbid mental disorders and addictions).

2. He came to this state without a plan. He said he was escaping people who stalked him in Florida and just kept driving until he found this area and decided this was where he wanted to live. He has no family or friends here. He paid for his house in cash within days of arriving.

3. Taking her to Florida and not allowing her to see her brother

4. Making her wait in the car while he visited people he was “doing business” with.

5. He seemed very easily upset or angered by things, but it took a while for this to show.

6. He seemed a little too perfect.

7. Moving too fast in their relationship, even talking about marriage and children.

8. He wanted my daughter to move in with him, then complained about all the money she was costing him.

9. Told me horrible things about my daughter and got me to believe them.

10. He was insanely jealous and questioned her whenever she spoke to a male friend on Facebook.

11. He has two children by two different women–neither is on good terms with him and he is not allowed to see his son or daughter.

12. Kept talking about the money Molly was going to get from her car accident settlement–and then got me to let him “hold onto” it (I trusted him more than her); the next day the money was gone.

13. Making me jump through hoops to get my cat back. Instead of just dropping her off at my house or letting me come pick her up, he released her into the woods; shelter personnel found her and I had to pay $85 to get her back.

14. He was a pathological liar.

More fun with spam.

Posted on January 31, 2015 by luckyotter

My spam is usually pretty boring, but here are two bizarre spam comments I got today. Bluebird of Bitterness will be proud!

A second WARNING: Probabilities are, as soon as you enter Wendy, your Arousal Meter will fill completely and quickly release, therefore invoking a far too abbreviated end towards the challenge. You are going to earn five from the likely 10 Existence Factors and move on along with your Existence, but it’s a somewhat embarrassing strategy to end factors.

Select comment mulberry bush nursery
Make contact with each of the women in your checklist at the least two months ahead of the event to determine what weekends they are 100 % free and what they like to do. It aids to get a checklist of concerns in front of you should you don’t know every guest personally, that’s sometimes the case with giant bridal events. The concerns are usually, ” What sports activities do you like to perform?” “Do you love board games?” “Are you interested in spa providers?”.

Ezra Pound: Poet with NPD

Posted on January 30, 2015 by luckyotter

Ezra Pound, ca. 1913. Photo by Alvin Langdon Coburn

Ezra Pound, expatriate poet, is listed in Wikipedia as a person having Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Following is his Wikipedia biography, and the diagnosis seems to fit. It seems very strange to me that so many people with NPD become expatriates. In running to other countries, are they symbolically trying to run away from themselves?
But you will find yourself wherever you are. So running never works.

A lot of them also write poetry. It’s as if their true self must have an outlet, and poetry is the “safest” way to release their true feelings and self-hatred. Poetry allows a measure of obliqueness and the opportunity to hide behind symbolism and obscurity. But if the poet is talented at all, and the reader at all sensitive, the true message of shame, hurt and self loathing will come through.

I resolved that at thirty I would know more about poetry than any man living … that I would know what was accounted poetry everywhere, what part of poetry was ‘indestructible’, what part could not be lost by translation and – scarcely less important – what effects were obtainable in one language only and were utterly incapable of being translated.

In this search I learned more or less of nine foreign languages, I read Oriental stuff in translations, I fought every University regulation and every professor who tried to make me learn anything except this, or who bothered me with “requirements for degrees”
–From How I Began, written in 1913

He definitely sounds like a narcissist.

Here is the Wikipedia article about Pound. His life does seem to follow the trajectory of a high functioning person with NPD, including a rendezvous with the criminal life.

The article is too long to repost here, but you can click on the above link. It’s definitely worth reading if you’re interested in poetry or NPD, or famous people with NPD.

My daughter just made me cry.

Posted on January 30, 2015 by luckyotter

Molly and me in the car in April 2014. I was 2 months No Contact with my MN ex by then.

My daughter Molly got home from visiting some friends, and admitted that she had come across my blog back in December and read the article about her where I said I thought she was a malignant narcissist (I think I was mistaken about that).

I thought she’d be angry, but instead she told me that although it hurt her feelings, it was a wake up call too, and because of that article, she started to rethink some of her past behaviors. She had time to do that during her 30 day stint in jail too.

Then she actually thanked me. She said, “Mom, even though I was so hurt you thought I was a narcissist, I started to think you were right and realized I do act very narcissistic sometimes, especially when I was doing pain pills (she hasn’t done pills in over a month). I want to say thank you, because I know you would never have written that if you didn’t love me.”

It gets even better.

She continued, “You’re different now, Mom. You seem so much happier now. I’ve read some of your other blog posts and I have to say I really admire you, Mom, for being so honest about everything. I think you’re so brave to be doing that and it’s doing good things for you. I could never do what you’re doing. I really want to change, Mom. I want you to be as proud of me as I am right now of you.”

She took this with her phone while we were talking. I wasn’t crying yet lol.

And then she came over to hug me and we were both crying.

For the record, the article I linked to describes something that wasn’t true. She had a brief relationship with a narc who lied to me about her doing hard drugs and because he gave such a good impression (this guy was a skilled psychopath who could sell ice to a penguin), had me believing him. It turned out everything he said to me was a lie. I wrote about that too, but it isn’t a long post (and actually replaced another one which I deleted).

Cerebral vs. somatic narcissists

Posted on January 29, 2015 by luckyotter

Either of these narcs are poison–run away as fast as you can. The chihuahua is probably okay.

I’m in a blah, uncreative mood tonight and can’t think of anything to write about (I had an irritating day and just want to read), so tonight I’m just going to post this interesting article by Sam Vaknin here where he describes the differences between the two types of narcissists: cerebral and somatic. Either type can be malignant or non-malignant. I haven’t really covered the two types of narcissists in much depth before, so this should take care of that oversight.

My mother is a somatic narcissist, histrionic type. They are prone to over the top dramatic behavior, shallow sexual relationships, and tantrums. If my daughter is a narcissist, then she would also be a somatic histrionic type (which can be confused with Borderline PD, which she may actually be). Female narcissists are probably more likely to be somatic (vain, preening, overly concerned with appearance and/or health) but both types can be found in either gender. Most gay male narcissists I’ve met are of the somatic type, but that doesn’t mean most gay narcissists are necessarily somatic. I’ve know one or two cerebral ones too.

Here is that article.

Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hide: Cerebral vs. Somatic Narcissist

Narcissists are either cerebral or somatic. In other words, they either generate their Narcissistic Supply by applying their bodies or by applying their minds.

The somatic narcissist flaunts his sexual conquests, parades his possessions, exhibits his muscles, brags about his physical aesthetics, youthfulness, sexual prowess or exploits, and is often a health freak and a hypochondriac. The somatic narcissist regards his body as an object to be sculpted and honed (via extreme diets, multiple cosmetic surgeries, bodybuilding, or weightlifting). When coupled with psychopathic tendencies, the somatic appropriates other people’s bodies and treats these as “raw materials” to be dismembered, tampered with, altered, invaded, or otherwise abused.

Somatic narcissists are often portrayed as sex addicts or histrionic. But really they derive their narcissistic supply not so much from the sex act as from the process of securing it: the conspiracies and assignations, the chase and conquest, the subjugation and habituation of their targets, and even from dumping and discarding their prey, once having extracted the attention and admiration they had sought. These extracurricular activities endow them with a sense of omnipotence and all-pervasive control. Their sway over their paramours and would-be lovers proves to them (and to others) their uniqueness, desirability and irresistibility.

The cerebral narcissist is a know-it-all, haughty and intelligent “computer”. He uses his awesome intellect, or knowledge (real or pretended) to secure adoration, adulation and admiration. To him, his body and its maintenance are a burden and a distraction.

Both types are auto-erotic (psychosexually in love with themselves, with their bodies and with their brain). Both types prefer masturbation to adult, mature, interactive, multi-dimensional and emotion-laden sex.

The cerebral narcissist is often celibate (even when he has a girlfriend or a spouse). He prefers pornography and sexual auto-stimulation to the real thing. The cerebral narcissist is sometimes a latent (hidden, not yet outed) homosexual. [Interesting.]

The somatic narcissist uses other people’s bodies to masturbate. Sex with him – pyrotechnics and acrobatics aside – is likely to be an impersonal and emotionally alienating and draining experience. The partner is often treated as an object, an extension of the somatic narcissist, a toy, a warm and pulsating vibrator.

It is a mistake to assume type-constancy. In other words, all narcissists are BOTH cerebral and somatic. In each narcissist, one of the types is dominant. So, the narcissist is either OVERWHELMINGLY cerebral – or DOMINANTLY somatic. But the other type, the recessive (manifested less frequently) type, is there. It is lurking, waiting to erupt.

The narcissist swings between his dominant type and his recessive type. The latter is expressed mainly as a result of a major narcissistic injury or life crisis.

I can give you hundreds of examples from my correspondence but, instead, let’s talk about me (of course…:o))

I am a cerebral narcissist. I brandish my brainpower, exhibit my intellectual achievements, bask in the attention given to my mind and its products. I hate my body and neglect it. It is a nuisance, a burden, a derided appendix, an inconvenience, a punishment. Needless to add that I rarely have sex (often years apart). I masturbate regularly, very mechanically, as one would change water in an aquarium. I stay away from women because I perceive them to be ruthless predators who are out to consume me and mine.

I have had quite a few major life crises. I got divorced, lost millions a few times, did time in one of the worst prisons in the world, fled countries as a political refugee, was threatened, harassed and stalked by powerful people and groups. I have been devalued, betrayed, denigrated and insulted.

Invariably, following every life crisis, the somatic narcissist in me took over. I became a lascivious lecher. When this happened, I had a few relationships – replete with abundant and addictive sex – going simultaneously. I participated in and initiated group sex and mass orgies. I exercised, lost weight and honed my body into an irresistible proposition.

This outburst of unrestrained, primordial lust waned in a few months and I settled back into my cerebral ways. No sex, no women, no body.

These total reversals of character stun my mates. My girlfriends and spouse found it impossible to digest this eerie transformation from the gregarious, darkly handsome, well-built and sexually insatiable person that swept them off their feet – to the bodiless, bookwormish hermit with not an inkling of interest in either sex or other carnal pleasures.

I miss my somatic half. I wish I could find a balance, but I know it is a doomed quest. This sexual beast of mine will forever be trapped in the intellectual cage that is I, Sam Vaknin, the Brain.

Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
Beated and chopp’d with tann’d antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
‘Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.

(Sonnet 62, William Shakespeare)

Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his mind or body to prefer;
Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much;
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus’d;
Still by himself, abus’d or disabus’d;
Created half to rise and half to fall;
Great Lord of all things, yet a prey to all,
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl’d;
The glory, jest and riddle of the world.

(Essay on Man, Alexander Pope)

Empathic joy

Image

An Open Letter To WordPress

Posted on January 28, 2015 by luckyotter

Goldfish has invaded my brain. There’s not one word I disagree with. WordPress, for the love of all that is holy, get with the program and stop dumbing down the blogging experience. Mmmkay?

Fish Of Gold

Dear WordPress.com,

I am loath to write yet another letter to you, since I typically prefer to spend my time writing actual blog posts, but I’ve been bitching on Twitter and in your forums to no avail, so maybe you’ll pay attention to a blog post. It’s not likely, but hey, you never know.

Please, stop. Just put down whatever you’re working on and stop with the futzing. You have been tinkering under my hood long enough and you know what? None of the “improvements” you’ve made are actually improvements.

Below, you will find explanations as to why your improvements aren’t improvements sorted conveniently by feature.

Post Editor

Let’s talk about this “Beep beep boop” post editor nightmare with less than half the functionality of the old editor. Thankfully, you haven’t taken away the old editor yet. However, I fully expect that one day, I will go to write a…

View original post 1,081 more words

My Aspergers almost got me arrested.

Posted on January 28, 2015 by luckyotter

So I’m on jury duty today, but I got the dates confused and thought the 28th was tomorrow. I had put a time off request in at work almost a month ago for this, so when I showed up at work this morning, my boss gave me a strange look and asked what I was doing there.

“Huh?” I ask stupidly.
“Don’t you remember you had jury duty today?” My boss looks at me like I have toadstools growing out of my head.
“What? Oh–um, that was today?” I start rummaging around in my bag to find my phone so I can check the date. There’s actually a calendar right on the wall behind my boss’s head.

“Wait a second–that was on the 28th. Today’s the 28th?” I finally dig out my phone, fumble with it and it drops on the floor.
My boss is smirking at me. I’m so embarrassed. People are watching this exchange. I bend over to pick up the phone.
“Today is the 28th,” she says like she’s talking to a two year old. “You better get going or there will be a warrant out for you.”
I look at the phone. She’s right.
I’m blushing fire engine red. She’s laughing at me.
“Sorry, well, I better go then.” Frantically I pull on my jacket and scarf and leave.

I drive dangerously, above the speed limit. First I have to go home and get the paperwork that includes a free parking ticket for the courthouse. I grab what I need and get back in the car and speed downtown, weaving in and out of traffic, which is something I never do. I’m usually a very careful driver.
Parking downtown is always a nightmare, but at least I get free parking today.
I was supposed to be at the courthouse at 8:45; I make it by 9:35.
I show the woman at the desk my paperwork and mumble an apology about getting confused about what day it was. She’s surprisingly nice about it and it turns out they haven’t even started yet.
There are two cases. I don’t know yet if I’ll be called to serve.
We get a two hour lunch, enough time for me to go home and write this post. I have to be back at 1:50, so I’ll wrap this up, eat some soup and leave.

Inability to focus on the here and now and being scatterbrained is an Aspie curse that makes life very embarrassing sometimes. I’ve been accused of having no common sense, and it’s sort of true. But it’s kind of funny too. It could have been bad if my boss hadn’t reminded me. I could be in handcuffs right now.