I just have to reblog this. This narcissistic mother sounds SO much like mine, I wonder if they were long lost twins. My mother was always one to have a Perfect Tree. Only white lights with silver and red balls and bow only. No other shapes would do. Colored lights were tacky. And my childish creations? God forbid! You might want to read this: https://otterlover58.wordpress.com/category/cleanliness/
Forgive me for this but…
Sam Vaknin on why narcissists and abuse victims hate the holidays
These are pretty interesting–both narcissists and their victims have problems with holidays like Christmas and birthdays. Narcissists ruin the holidays for everyone because of their envy, including themselves. Victims associate holidays with bad experiences because of their abusers.
Narcissists and holidays:
Abuse victims and holidays:
I want to change my name
I want to change my name.
I never cared much for my first name. It’s a name that was immensely popular in the ’50s through the early ’70s (not so much anymore), so it’s one of those dated, middle-aged sounding names that will become another “Ethel” in decades to come. Its commonality and genericness made me feel like an uncreative blob of genericness myself. It’s one of those names parents slapped on their kids because they weren’t visionary enough to think of something more unusual or exotic, or because they just didn’t care enough so they picked whatever was popular at the time.
It also sounded ridiculous with my maiden name, very singsongy. I used to get teased about it constantly as a child. Bullies actually used the ease of which my name could be turned into a little melody and used it to taunt me. I haven’t forgotten that.
I still use my MN-ex’s last name, only because I hate my maiden name even more and because it actually sounds better with my first name. It makes my boring first name seem a tad more exotic at least.
So I don’t like my name too much. And that’s an issue, because your name becomes associated with you as a person, how you are perceived by others, and how you perceive yourself.
I never perceived myself as my true self with my name. It’s a person I never was, a person who was forever trapped in a greenhouse of narcissism, a person with no confidence, no joy, a person who felt like a victim, like an incompetent member of the human race, a person who lived in a state of high vigilance, terror and depressions as deep as the Mariana Trench.
That person is still there, but there’s another person taking her place.
A person who has moments of joy and pride, a person who has emotions besides fear, despair and anger, a person who is becoming interested in life and living, can care for others again, is cobbling together a goal, has faith that God doesn’t hate me after all, a person who is starting to think life ain’t so bad after all.
The other day, I started a LinkedIn account. I never started one before because the whole idea of a “networking site” for “professionals” and its association in my mind with greedy, snobbish, narcissistic Yuppies and their later incarnations made me want to stick two fingers down my throat. And yes, part of that resentment had to do with my poverty and lack of professional success (once I married my psychopath). I have a low paying job but even though I still work there, I feel like that’s temporary and there are bigger things on the horizon, things that involve what I love most: writing. Especially writing about narcissism because it’s such a pervasive problem today and so much suffering could be alleviated just with being educated about it.
But I digress. So I started the LinkedIn account under my future self, as a sort of promise to myself that I’m still getting better. I described myself as “blog owner and writer,” which is really what I am. At first I used my real name, but then something happened that put the fear of God in me.
Both my parents have LinkedIn accounts. Other family members do too. I don’t want my family to find my blog, and they easily could if they saw my LinkedIn account.
What happened was I got an automated suggestion to add my father as a “contact.”
HOW DID IT KNOW???
THEN I got two views by “members who choose to remain anonymous.” Huh? Mommy? Daddy?
I was super creeped out. I am NOT ready for them to see my blog. I write about them a lot and most of what I have to say is not complimentary. Not that any of that matters, you see, because it’s not like they don’t already see me as a batshit insane, unmotivated LOSER who turned Bad Choices into a career, but I’m just…not …ready.
Immediately the solution came to me. I needed to use a fake name; if the damage wasn’t already done maybe I could avoid it being done. I chose “Lauren Bennett” because I like the name Lauren–it sounds like the name of a woman with emotional strength and confidence. It sounds young. It sounds like the name of a successful, happy person.
I chose Bennett because it’s a family name. Gotta give a shoutout to the family there somewhere, at least to those members who don’t bother you too much.
I notice the name makes me actually feel different. When I’m using it, I FEEL like Lauren Bennett, a confident, happy, successful, loving woman, a woman who doesn’t walk through life like the Cowardly Lion being waterboarded. My real name is not that woman. My real name feels like a me that isn’t me anymore, a me I no longer want to be or even NEED to be.
Changing my name would also make it a lot less likely to be found on the Internet by people from my past I don’t want to associate with.
So here’s my request. I need advice on legally changing your name. Also any advice on how much this would put me back. I’m living on an extremely tight budget.
Sickie
My face is melting and my throat is full of sand. My eyes are gross and gummy. My hair is lank and greasy and my nose is raw as sushi. I’m hacking up unspeakable things.
Oh, wait, I feel a sneeze coming on. Ahhhhh—
Dammit! It’s one of those infuriating swallowed sneezes, you know, when you feel like you have to sneeze but it doesn’t come–or maybe your nose just emits a mouselike squeak . Non-sneezes must be one of God’s little practical jokes.
So, what was I talking about?
Oh, right. My danged cold.
I still had to work today (otherwise I lose my Christmas holiday pay) but I felt like I was dragging around a 100 pound weight as I moved around today, sniffling and sneezing and spewing my germs everywhere like Typhoid Mary. I took Dayquil to cope with the symptoms, but still felt horrible, and sleepy on the way home in the car from the medicine. (By the way, Dayquil will make you groggy, so drive with caution if you must).
I drank about a gallon of orange juice and popped vitamin C like a crackhead pops rocks, but all it does is make my bladder work overtime making bright orange urine, which I guess is the point since all that peeing is supposed to rid your body of the illness. Eventually. I’ve been eating so much canned chicken noodle soup I think I might lay an egg if I eat too much more.
In the meantime I have no choice but to power through this. Thankfully, day after tomorrow I’ll have a nice 4 day long weekend to relax and get better. I’ll be cooking my incredible (yes, I don’t mind saying so) spinach and meat lasagna at Paul’s house and my daughter will be home. I’ll also be baking a red velvet cake (with buttercream icing, not cream cheese, which I hate).
All my Christmas shopping is finally done and I’m anticipating a small but lovely Christmas dinner. I’ll still be glad when all this holiday business is over for another year.
As I sit here sipping my peppermint tea with honey, I’m dreaming of spring.
Once the stores start putting up the Valentines day merchandise (which happens the minute Christmas is over), I start to see spring on the horizon. Here in North Carolina (with the exception of last year, which was exceptionally cold for this part of the country), by the end of February it starts to warm up a bit and even a few of the trees begin to take on a pale green tinge. (Has anyone ever noticed, even before the green begins to show, in the very early spring the trees have a diluted form of the same colors they do in the fall?)
The days are already getting longer by one minute a day. By the end of January, it will be noticeable. Ah, spring. I can’t wait for you. I love you. I wish I could hibernate until then.
I hate everything about winter. The dark. The cold. The gloominess. The damned SNOW. But most of all I hate colds and flu. It’s getting late. Guess it’s time to take some Nyquil and rest my body for one more day of work until the long weekend.
But before I do that, I think I’ll take another eucalyptus bath and light my Silver Birch Yankee candle.
Do psychopaths hate cats?
Based on a search term from today, “psychopaths hate cats” I decided to Google that search term myself and found this article, which I’ll reprint here.
http://research.personality-testing.info/are-psychopaths-dog-people/
British journalist Jon Ronson is obsessed with obsessives. He’s best known for writing the book behind the George Clooney film “The Men Who Stare At Goats.” In his latest book, Jon Ronson has turned his own obsessive eye toward psychopaths. The book is called “The Psychopath Test.”
[………………..]
One of the stranger characteristics of psychopaths is their choice of pets. Ronson says they are almost never cat people. “Because cats are willful,” he explains.
Psychopaths gravitate toward dogs since they are obedient and easy to manipulate. Ronson says he spoke with individuals who would qualify as psychopaths who told him they aren’t sad when they hear about people dying. “But they get really upset when their dogs die because dogs offer unconditional love.”
I was unable to find the justification for this claim with some searching and as such specific statements never tend to be very true, I thought this one should be put to the test.
To this end, I appended the question
If you had to choose, what would you describe yourself as?
A ‘dog person’.
A ‘cat person’.
I don’t want to answer.
to the end of the Psychopathy Scale as a “research item”. The scale is short questionnaire used for the study of psychopathy in adult populations. It can not diagnose psychopathy, but it correlates very well with the Hare Psychopathy Checklist which can. In measures two scales: primary psychopathy (things like arrogance, manipulativeness, callousness, lying) and secondary psychopathy (things like irresponsibility, impulsiveness, lack of long-term goals and boredom proneness).
Here are the results.
Answer Primary psychopathy Secondary psychopathy #
Dog person 2.44 2.67 304
Cat person 2.54 2.84 283
Didn’t answer 2.92 2.94 102
As can be seen, dog people actually scored lower for both dimensions of psychopathy than cat people, although not by much. The claim would appear to be wrong.
Some weeks ago I wrote my article, “Psychopaths and Pets” about the the way psychopaths treat animals (basically, as extensions of themselves).
Thanks again, Sam. Would you like green eggs and ham?
The spike in my stats has not let up. My views today were almost as high as yesterday’s.
I was informed by a commenter I’ve never seen before that Sam has been pimping my blog again (one article in particular) all over social media again (mostly Facebook–said article has been shared 84 or more times).
Honestly, I didn’t think Sam had anything to do with the rising stats this time, because it was another article I thought was getting all the views (one that probably wouldn’t be of interest to him). I thought wrong. Well, that other article was getting a lot of views too.
I checked Sam’s Twitter timeline (I don’t do Facebook), and sure enough, this “informer” was correct.
I don’t care if Sam’s a narcissist, a malignant narcissist, a wannabe, or pink and purple polka-dotted with ball bearings in his brain–I’m loving what he’s doing for this blog. I’m sure he’s got his own selfish motives for doing this because he’s a narc, but I don’t care. Sometimes the end is more important than the means.
The funny thing is, this article he seems to like so much is not all that complimentary.
Would Sam like some green eggs and ham?
Guilty pleasure.
I like this song a lot. I don’t really know why. I know it’s bad bro-country that sounds more like pop-rock than country but still, it’s incredibly addictive. It makes me want to get up and dance or something. Oh wait, I’m sick. The video is cool too.
I’m ready for this day to be over.
1. I’m getting sick. I’m feverish and achey and coughing. I hope it’s not the flu. Or Ebola.
2. I got screamed at today by my boss for a really stupid reason.
3. I got a phone call from my neighbor this morning that the power company truck was here to shut off my power. I paid my bill in full on the 17th. Turns out it was a mistake–it was someone else who’s power was supposed to be shut off. But I had to spend all day between jobs on the phone trying to straighten everything out. The power was on when I got home and my roommate said it was never shut off at all.
4. The Paul/Michael saga continues. Just as I expected, Paul now knows what a malignant piece of shit my ex is. I talked to him again last night for along time, and he agrees with me now that Michael is a thoroughly evil d-bag. Since Paul told him to move out, Michael’s been hacking into Paul’s Facebook account and posting messages on his wall that make him look bad. Paul has kids in Florida and wants custody of them, and Michael is doing this to sabotage him because he knows Child Services checks Facebook now. He’s doing other sneaky things too and Paul doesn’t trust him.
This almost made me laugh: Michael told Paul he was doing HIM a favor when he moved in. He actually said, “I LET you have me stay here.” LMAO!
But I’m worried about Paul. I haven’t heard from him all day.
For awhile I thought Michael had called the power company and asked my power to be shut off because he knows Paul and I talk. But actually it wasn’t that. I wouldn’t put something like that past him though. He’s incredibly spiteful.
I’m worried that when Molly gets out in 2 days she might be mad that Paul kicked out her father. She needs to go No Contact with him but I know she won’t. Michael told all her friends Paul is “too controlling.” On Facebook.
I don’t know if I’ll post anything else tonight. I’m sick and tired. I don’t feel like writing much. I might later.
I did just get a text from Paul a second ago. He’s driving Michael into downtown tomorrow. At least there’s one worry I can check off my list.
One good thing. My stats are still up. I know why too. Haha.
I beat my Best Ever Day!
I still can’t figure out exactly what caused the spike in views today (but was due to my blog post from several days ago about malignant narcissism and the supernatural), but I beat my previous Best Ever Day of 541 views (the day Sam Vaknin had that article I wrote about him disseminated all over social media) to 546!
Yay me.












