But ammonia is yummy!

Posted on October 14, 2016 by luckyotter

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Looks like my son maybe made his first viral tweet!

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Social Narcissism: Safe Spaces, Collectivity, and Moral Obligation

Posted on October 13, 2016 by luckyotter

Way back in 1979, a social critic named Christopher Lasch wrote “The Culture of Narcissism,” in which he made the case that increasing globalization, individualism over community, material success over loving relationships, nuclear families over the extended family or the tribal culture, and the “bottom line” over empathy, would lead to levels of societal narcissism previously unheard of. Of course narcissism has always been around, and used to be brushed under the rug (“nice” people didn’t talk about abuse), but there was always the community or extended family to catch you when you fell. Now, it’s each person for him- or herself, and you’re regarded as a “moral failure,” even by your own family, if you fail to impress the world with lofty achievements, the perfect body, impressive credentials, the biggest McMansion, the prettiest children, or the most glamorous career.

The problem of societal narcissism goes way beyond Millennials taking selfies (taking selfies is really not all that narcissistic anyway). American politics has become a reality show, in which the most “colorful” or outrageous character has a better chance than the one who truly cares about the people and the future of the nation.

My friend has written an outstanding article about how narcissism has become normalized and even transformed into a virtue in today’s selfish, materialistic, empathy-challenged society. Comments here are disabled; please comment under the original post.

Self-pity and self-compassion: there’s a huge difference!

Posted on October 12, 2016 by luckyotter

This somewhat older post of mine is in the same spirit as the Brene Brown videos I posted yesterday, so I decided it was time to reblog it.

Lucky Otters Haven

I read a post yesterday on another blog that I agreed with, except there was one thing that didn’t quite sit right with me. The post said that self-pity is an important part of healing from Complex PTSD.

In his book (which I’m still reading), Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, Pete Walker says that self-compassion is an important part of healing, and I think this is what the blogger actually meant. But self-compassion isn’t the same thing as self-pity, an activity which I don’t find at all healing and in fact seems to make my problems worse. Of course we have the right to engage in self pity from time to time (and probably can’t help doing so), and no one should deny us the right to do so. But for me, it just doesn’t work. It’s an unpleasant, soul-sucking experience that seems to drive my negative programming…

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Inspiration for Wednesday.

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Listening to Shame — Brene Brown

Posted on October 10, 2016 by luckyotter

I have found Brene Brown’s videos incredibly helpful. Anyone who has struggled with trauma, shame, and fear of vulnerability would do well to watch her videos. I’ve already posted “The Power of Vulnerability,” and have watched it dozens of times. Here’s another one I just watched called “Listening to Shame.” Brene is one of the most inspiring people I’ve ever seen. Follow her on Youtube!

Meet and Greet: 10/8/16

Posted on October 10, 2016 by luckyotter

Family estrangement.

Posted on October 9, 2016 by luckyotter

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Wikipedia has a good, in depth article about the sad phenomenon of family estrangement, which is related to shunning or ostracism. Family members who have been estranged (ostracized or scapegoated) are likely to develop PTSD and have dismally low self-esteem.

Family estrangement occurs for a number of reasons, and is most common in societies that value individualism over the family, tribe, or community, so it’s more common in the United States than in other countries. It’s also my personal opinion that it’s more common in upper middle class families who value material and financial success over loving relationships. An adult child who fails to toe the line and make the family “look good” becomes an embarrassment to the family’s upwardly mobile aspirations, and becomes the scapegoat or is even rejected from the family. They are also likely to be disowned. The ostracized adult child, lacking financial and emotional support and a healthy sense of self worth (because nothing is more devastating to a person’s sense of self esteem than being rejected by one’s own family), often falls into poverty, illness, or mental illness, further shaming the “perfect” family.

The sense of shame of having been rejected by the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally is emotionally, spiritually, and even physically devastating. It’s the worst kind of soul murder. To make matters worse, it’s often the “truth teller” (the one who sees through the toxic family dynamics) or the most sensitive or vulnerable child who is shunned in this way. The scapegoated or ostracized adult child is then blamed for their “failures” and told they brought their hard luck on themselves.

Cluster B personality disorders are very common in families where members become estranged, scapegoated or ostracized, because people with these disorders tend to lack empathy, which is the glue that holds families, tribes and societies together. Substance abuse is also a common factor and may be co-morbid with Cluster B disorders (substance abuse being a very common but maladaptive coping tool among people with these disorders).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_estrangement

Kitty wants in.

Posted on October 9, 2016 by luckyotter

Sheldon’s all dressed up and has no where to go. Here he is trying to climb through a closed window.

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Absurd dream that made me angry and then laugh.

Posted on October 9, 2016 by luckyotter

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I dreamed about my stupid narcopath ex again. I don’t know why I keep dreaming about him because I never actually think about him and no longer care about him. My primary “emotion” toward him is slightly annoyed indifference. I don’t even feel much anger anymore. Just boredom. Honestly, if he were killed in a car accident tomorrow, I doubt I’d care that much, except for the impact it would have on our kids. He’s like a stranger to me, one I’m glad I have almost nothing to do with.

In these dreams, he’s always doing better than me and I resent the hell out of it because I think he’s so undeserving and an insufferable ass who deserves to be deprived instead of me. I know that makes me sound like the narcissist instead of him, but it’s the truth. These feelings come out in my dreams. Here’s the latest.

In the dream, the knob on my ancient stove (the real one I actually have) stopped working. The white paint that spelled the numbers and the “OFF” were long rubbed off, but I had still been able to tell if it was off or on because of the little “click” when I turned it that told me it was off. But the knob kept spinning in place and wouldn’t click. Something seemed to be broken or loose.

I don’t know what kind of place we were in. There were all these strange people walking around, like it was the middle of a public hallway somewhere. So here I was, sitting on the floor in the middle of this hallway, with all these strangers walking back and forth, angrily fuming and fiddling with the broken stove knob. I knew I couldn’t afford to buy a new stove, or even have the thing repaired.

My ex was over in another corner, with all his new toys, like it was Christmas morning or something. He had TWO new coffeemakers (why?), a set of brand new dishes, an ice cream maker, a deep fryer, an espresso maker, a juicer, and an expensive food processor. Their boxes and packaging were strewn nearby. I went over to ask him to help me with the stove knob, and that’s when I saw all his new kitchen loot. I was enraged and jealous.

“Where the HELL did you get all that new stuff? TWO coffee makers? Why would you need TWO goddam coffeemakers? Who the hell NEEDS two coffeemakers?” I yelled, outraged.

He ignored me. That enraged me even more.

“Where did you get the money to buy all that crap, HUH? Who you freeloading off of this time?” I demanded. “I know you didn’t EARN it!” He continued to act like I wasn’t there.

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“Maybe you STOLE it!” I accused. I thought of all the times he had stolen money out of my wallet while I slept. Or the time recently when he stole the money my daughter had been saving to move to her own apartment.

Blood roared in my head. “NO ONE NEEDS TWO FRIGGIN’ COFFEEMAKERS!” I screamed.

Did I expect him to give me one? Maybe I did. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that this injustice made my blood boil. This POS who had freeloaded off me for seven years so he could get disability and never have to work a day in his life again had two brand new coffeemakers and a bunch of other useless kitchen crap that he’d probably never use. And I had nothing but a broken stove and bills I couldn’t pay.

I looked around. The people walking back and forth ignored us. They might as well have not heard me yelling. Maybe they didn’t hear me. I didn’t care if they did or not. I was beyond niceties.

I fixed my gaze back on the narcopath. I imagined my eyes were two laser beams boring into his blackened soul. “Hey! I need you to help me fix my stove. The knob is broken and I don’t know how to fix it. And unlike YOU, I can’t afford to buy a new stove or have it fixed. So I need your help if you can tear yourself away from your new toys long enough to come have a look.”

He continued to open his packages, pulling styrofoam out of another box. Maybe it was a third coffeemaker. His two coffeemakers sat side by side on the floor, taunting me. I felt like drop kicking them into the wall. I glared balefully at them instead. Those innocent hunks of plastic and brushed chrome represented everything I hated about this man.

“Hey. I’m talking to YOU. I need you to help me with my stove.” I had the broken knob in my hand. I shoved it in his face so he would look. He still ignored me. What the hell was his problem? I looked back to where the stove had been, but I didn’t see it. I wasn’t too concerned. After all, this was a dream and as far as I was concerned, the stove was still there.

I asked people around if they had seen the stove. I showed them the knob. No one had seen it. Strange. But I still knew it was there. I walked back over to where my ex sat and continued my tirade and demands. I wanted him to suffer.

“Well, you insufferable ass. Since you refuse to help and continue to give me the silent treatment, I want one of those damn coffeemakers,” I said. He was still ignoring me.

I woke up and laughed. What a ridiculous, absurd dream. What an complete entitled bitch I had been in it too. Narcopath or not, no one deserved to be treated the way I treated him in the dream. I would never actually behave that way in real life. But in the dream itself, I was really mad and couldn’t control my rage and envy. I don’t really know why, unless I’m still harboring anger toward him. Or maybe just anger in general.