I Repeat

Still a pet peeve of mine...

Recently, I’ve had two people tell me stories of bad behavior, and justify it by saying “they’re bipolar”. Let me make this perfectly clear...

NOBODY IS BIPOLAR!!!

Bipolar Disorder (usually shortened to simply, Bipolar), is a devastating disorder, which is much more difficult for the sufferer than it is for those around. 

Riddle me this: Would you say, “You’re Covid-19”? How about “You’re epilepsy”? No. You’d say “You have (insert illness of choice)”. Therefore, the unfortunate have Bipolar, we are not the disorder, itself.

Granted, there’s no “-ic” word to describe a person suffering with Bipolar Disorder, as there are for other diseases (diabetic, schizophrenic, hypochondriac, etc), but it’s still not alright to use mental illness justify poor behavior. It just perpetuates the stigmas that most of us are tirelessly fighting. Would you allow a person with a cold to treat you poorly? How about someone with cancer?

POOR BEHAVIOR IS NOT JUSTIFIED. EVER.

Yes, those of us suffering with this incredibly difficult disorder have a tendency to not always watch what we do and say, but, fun fact: Every single person on this planet, no matter their struggles and trials, has the option of keeping quiet, and/or striving to behave better than one’s mind would dictate.

Your personality cannot become one with your illness. You have to keep them separate, or people will identify you as your illness. Are you an illness, or are you a person?

AGAIN: STOP CALLING PEOPLE “BIPOLAR”, AND STOP USING IT TO JUSTIFY BAD BEHAVIOR!

Useless

What’s the point of you?

Dearest sister and brother-in-law,

Thank you so much for your participation in mom’s retirement festivities. Your financial assistance, as well as all the time you spent setting things up, were greatly appreciated. She especially loved your expressions of congratulations, and interest in her feelings and future plans. You have truly made this new chapter of her life a memorable one.

Was the sarcasm obvious enough? I sure hope so, because these two absolutely useless humans have done exactly none of this. No calls, no texts. Except when mom accidentally dialed her elder daughter, who then called back, and complained about her circumstances, nonstop, during mine and mom’s walk about the neighborhood..

I’m so beyond fed up, that I don’t even have words, anymore. They took $2,000 from mom, which we all know won’t be paid back, then hit the hills! They don’t care about anyone, which seriously pisses me off. Mom has done way more than necessary for all of us, but I’m the only one who feels the need to do anything, for her, in return.

Michone, Bryan... If you even have a gram of humanity left in you, know that you are among the most disgusting people to live in our age. If you want out of the family, fine. But that means you will stop asking for, or accepting, help from one of the kindest women alive.

Selfish

Chronic-takers

“Me, me, me”

Blamed

So done with Karen...

I’ve been at my job for less than two months, and have been reported to management, by customers, twice. Neither time did I do what was reported.

First, someone called and said I’d used curse words to describe a customer. I don’t curse at work. It’s called professionalism. But it still counted as my “first offense”. Today, I get called in because management got a call saying I was speaking against another customer, in a demeaning way. This happened, yes. But, as I told management, I was not the only one involved. But that didn’t seem to matter, as neither of the others were called in. I know exactly why this is, but I’m not going to get into it. This is my “second offense”. 

So, I pose this question to all the Karens in the world: What makes you think it’s okay to make a complaint, without knowing exactly what you heard? Is it “I think I heard a bad word, while the employee was mumbling under her breath, ten feet away”, now? Is that really grounds for endangering someone’s job?!?! 

All I have to say is, I hope someone calls in false accusations to your management, and your job is put in jeopardy. And believe me when I say that I’ll be watching each person, taking names, and keeping perfect records of what I say, and who else is saying the exact same things. 

I’m done being the scapegoat for literally everything. Someone hears something, and suddenly it’s my fault. It’s been this way, my entire life. I’ve been blamed for doing and saying things that I wasn’t even around for, and people think this is okay. 

Example: For a while, I had to have princess narcissist share my bedroom. When she moved back to her room, she blamed me for the clay that had got ground into the carpet... on her side of the room. And this was believed for years by mom and king narc. Wanna guess which one of us played with clay, and which one didn’t ever touch it? Or should I just tell you?

There’s a reason I’m quiet, and have never stood up for myself. It’s because of idiots, just like these, who take someone else’s word for gospel truth, and anything I say is apparently just lies, trying to get myself out of trouble. I’ve lost track of how many things I’ve been blamed for, because it’s been so damn common in my life. 

Masks make it impossible to know who’s talking, unless you are less than a foot away. People damn well better be 150% sure what they’re talking about, before they complain, and putting someone’s job at risk.

People like these, are actually the cause of suicide for many. I totally understand. It gets to a point where you just... give up. Stop trying, because nobody believes you. Yeah, I’ve lied. Many times. Who hasn’t? But when it comes to blaming someone, just to have someone to blame... I hope those people are happy knowing that they’ve not just ended jobs, but lives, as well.

THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK

Blessed

I am incredibly humbled by the kindness that has been shown to me!

Things are now to a point with the jackass, where I’m hell bent on leaving before I punch it in the throat. With this decision comes some hard ones. With my cello payments, and lesson tuition, I can’t afford anything more than a parking spot at Walmart; and believe me when I tell you that living in my car is definitely an option. So, I put my cello up for sale, and told my teacher I’d have to quit. I was heartsick.

Down and defeated, I had resigned myself to never learning the instrument I’ve loved for so long. Then came this...

My mom texts me, and offers to pay off my cello. At first, I resisted, because she doesn’t have that kind of money. However, she’s allowing me to pay her back. I will do this, gladly, with interest!

The real shock came when I got this text from my teacher: “I like this turn of events! I am perfectly happy to pay it forward… And scholarship you!” Can someone please get my jaw off the floor?

I’ve put in for a full-time spot, at work. Now I just have to pray I get it! So send your prayers and good vibes my way! So much will change, and my life will finally be on the track it should have been on, over a decade ago!

Short post. Just wanted you to know that good people still exist. Be one, accept help from another.

You Have Zero Idea

People really need to stop talking about things they don’t know.

I have a few people who seem to think it’s ok to lecture me on my relationship with father and sister. Things like, “She’s going to be the only family you have, at some point”, and “He really is a good man”. Yes, these people have good intentions, but they only see one molecule of the universe. 

Here’s the truth.

Sibling has bullied me, my entire life. Yes, she’s my only sibling, but she’s the one who has ensured that we have no relationship. It’s her fault, and everyone knows that. “But she would say the same about you.” Yeah, she will. But her excuse is that I’m nothing like her. I don’t act like her, talk like her, dress like her, or anything else she would want. She can’t handle anyone, and I literally mean anyone, who isn’t just like she is. She has tried to change who I am, for as long as I can remember. She also can’t accept that, not everyone will give her things, for all eternity. When someone gets tired of giving, giving, and giving some more, getting nothing in return, she will dispose of them. It’s what she’s always done, and what she will always do. That’s what chronic takers do.

Jackass is a classic representation of narcissism. I heard that, when I wouldn’t eat something at family parties, it would go out and get something I’d like. That’s all fine and good, but I have exactly zero memory of it doing that. Literally the only thing I ever remember it doing for me, is figuring out how to get me my beloved clarinet. I was sixteen. Best part is that, since it retired, it’s got a quadrillion times worse. It’ll go out, pick up a treat, and not think of anyone else. It’s got its crap all over the house, but throws a tantrum if something is moved. It is incredibly condescending, it can’t admit it doesn’t know something (using, instead, “I’m not used to doing that”), and it will take out its own frustrations on me. 

So, good as your intentions may be, you haven’t lived in my house, with these two jackasses, for more than a couple hours. They both put on a good face, when company is around. As soon as company leaves, it’s back to hell. 

Please think twice before telling the victim of bullying or narcissistic abuse, exactly how good of a person the perpetrator is. Especially when you’ve been told, time after time, what that perp is doing. Don’t ever try to convince the victim that, if they’d put in more effort, their relationship with the abuser/bully will get better. You simply have no idea.

I appreciate that you have your amazing relationships with your families, but it’s not something I’ve ever had, or ever will have. Don’t feel badly for me. I’ve got some absolutely amazing friends, who are my chosen family. They say, “blood is thicker than water”. Fun fact: the people you choose to be around, and who choose to be around you... well, that’s a bond stronger than blood. 

Family isn’t based on genetics, it’s based on bonds.

Max Level Stupidity

People will never cease to amuse me with their stupidity.

Living in Utah comes with so many ignorant and sheltered people to laugh at. No, it’s not the norm, as most people would like to believe, but it’s still quite common.

My absolute favorite reaction most people have is actually towards coffee. I don’t drink alcohol (for many reasons I won’t get into), but I do drink coffee. When people smell my coffee, it’s almost like they’re seeing one of those Brazilian jungle tribes— new and foreign and strange. It’s funny.

There are so many people here, mostly members of a certain religion, who know literally nothing outside their church. Again: not the norm. I knew one lady who didn’t even know her neighbor had a dog. Yeah... that dog would bark day and night, and she was two houses down. Hard to miss. There are also those members of that church who can’t identify differing beliefs of other Christian denominations. I’m actually embarrassed for those people. I was raised in that church, but my parents are far more aware (my father being mostly more aware of himself, though). My mom is a representation of the norm for those church members— not all head-in-the-sand.

The reason for this post is because of a car theft I read about. 

As anyone with an ounce of common sense knows, you don’t leave your car running, and unlocked, while you run inside. Not even for thirty seconds. Around here, you’re basically telling criminals that they’re welcome to your $30,000 property. Every single day, there are reports of cars being stolen, thanks to people’s naivety. Every. Single. Day. Why it still happens, well, that’s a mystery that can’t ever be solved. Everyone sees these reports, but somehow think it won’t happen to them. Then, when it does, inevitably happen, they’re baffled and angry. 

I commented on that person’s post, calling out that it was partially their fault (when we all know it was entirely their own fault), and now I’m waiting for the backlash, and accusations of “victim blaming”. Well... when it’s the victim’s fault, then they have to take the blame. Common Sense: 101.

Why did I make a comment that I know will cause drama? Because, dear readers, I’m currently battling a full-blown manic episode. No, mania didn’t compel me to write it; mania took my inhibitions, and threw them in the fire. Mania makes me do and say things that I’d normally bite my tongue on. This time around, I’ve been trying desperately to keep my thoughts to myself, but it has proven to be more difficult than I can handle. I’m actually afraid that I’ll let someone have it, while I’m at work, and I’ll lose my job. I’ve been okay, so far, but keep your fingers crossed! 

No, I will not mention the “terrifying” disorder to anyone, not even my extremely understanding manager. I don’t want it to be a factor in my work. I’ve got more meds, as of tonight, and will continue to do my best.

Ta.

As Close As Sisters

That has a very different meaning to me than it does for most.

A while ago, I told you about the genetically similar human I was forced to call “sister”. She was the type of sister that makes you wonder how I survived childhood. She bullied me as much, if not more than, the kids at school. The worst part about that is, once in a while, she’d be nice to me, then hit harder.

She’s done some absolutely terrible things to me, but the worst, in my book, is something that can’t ever be forgiven.

Christmas 2010. I had had the major surgery on my leg on December 20, and was still is horrific pain on Christmas Day. She and her husband were over, as usual, and it was a nice day (the parts I was awake for, anyhow). That night, and for weeks after, my life was absolute hell.

When I went to take my dose of painkillers, there was a bottle missing. We looked all over, but never found it. They were on my bedside table, so the area they could have fallen to, was rather small. You can probably already guess where this is going...

She never admitted to it, nor do I ever expect her to come clean, but we all know she took them. I had three bottles: Valium, Percocet, and OxyContin. She couldn’t take the Percocet, no... She had to take the Oxy. The stronger of the two pain killers. Yeah... I had just had my leg surgically broken, twisted, had a rod shoved down it, and screws in my ankle and up by my knee. Real comfy.

For the next few weeks, I had to space out what she graciously left me, and the pain had me crying just about all day long. That was the epitome of A- selfishness, and B- addict. 

She subsequently took two more bottles of pain killers, which I didn’t get because I wanted a nice trip. I had some things that were only helped by those, but she thought she needed them more than I did. You know addicts.

No, I will never forgive her for this. Even if she goes to therapy, or some kind of recovery, and she makes amends for every other thing she’s done to me. She left me writhing in agony, because she thought only of herself. As usual.

Mick, I pray you know the kind of pain you me put me through- both physical and mental. And get some help. You need it. Really. For your narcissistic tendencies, if nothing else. Maybe then, you’ll have real friends, instead of people you dispose of when they’ve got tired of giving. Chronic takers aren’t lovable.

One Giant Step For Me-Kind

This really is a day to put on the books!

Today, I did something that I most literally have never done, before. I woke up, entirely intent that I didn’t want to go to work today. Since my very first job, thoughts like this have won, and I wouldn’t go to work. This was a day of immense change.

Despite not wanting to go, I got up, got dressed, and got to work. Just forty minutes into my day, I was beyond done. I wanted to get out of there, go home, and go back to bed. For the first time in my life, I pushed those thoughts from my mind, and made it through my entire shift! Granted, my shift is just four hours, but that’s never stopped my brain from winning, as I would talk myself out of a two-hour shift at one job. Gotta say, I’m pretty proud of myself, today.

Those four hours passed about as well as a kidney stone, and I was counting every single minute, but I was there! And what’s more, I did things, all by myself, which I’d not been confident on, up until today! I’m actually learning my job! No, I’m not totally independent, but there are no less than sixty million things to know. But learning some of the more common and basic functions, is rather a boost to my confidence and self-esteem!

I still can’t believe how far I’ve come! Three years ago, I needed someone to go with me to get the freaking mail. No joke. I’m surprising myself on a daily basis! 

I’m walking proof that anything is possible. I promise you, if you really want something, and you put in the work to get there, nothing can stop you! I’ve wanted steady employment for years, and now, I’m succeeding! 

Do not, under any circumstances, judge your journey on mine or anyone else’s. Your recovery, your journey, your life, your way.

2021

Happy New Year!!!

Last year, I posted about not having the traditional new year resolutions, because, when I fail at those, I feel like a total failure. I didn’t make resolutions last year, and I won’t this year. This year, I will make a goal.

As some may know, I’ve had a ridiculously hard time with employment since 2011. I’d get a good job, but something would happen, and I’d freak out. This lead to so many quit jobs that, I frankly can’t even remember how many, let alone the where’s and when’s. Things changed in 2020.

In October, I got a job that I absolutely loved, but couldn’t keep. It was constantly walking, running, and kneeling. Thanks to the lovely movement disorder that mainly affects my left foot, the pain was too much. After just a month, I injured my knee to a point of having to take leave. During that leave, I found a good job which wouldn’t require anywhere near the amount of walking. Here’s where the changes are really noticeable...

Fun fact: I do not now, nor have I ever, dealt well with angry people. Dealing with people, in general, is quite difficult, but when someone starts getting angry, I shut down. You can thank the sad excuse of a father I was cursed with... Anyhow, I’ve had to deal with some serious nightmares, but I’m still there. Four weeks, and only freaked out once! Even at that, the freak-out wasn’t career-ending! Pretty proud of myself.

So, my goal, this year, is to make it until the end of March. If I can keep working until the end of March, then I’ll push it out to the end of July... the end of November... so on, and so forth. 

I saw my therapist yesterday, who, as usual, asked how I thought I was doing. For the very first time in my life, I could say that I’m doing well! Even before the disaster of 2011, I couldn’t say I was doing well— at all— because my moods were far from controlled, and the way I treated people... I’m ashamed of myself. 

Now that things have pulled a total 180, I actually have hope that I’ll be able to get, and maintain, full-time employment! This has never happened! I’m not going to jump into the deep end, just yet. I’m going to keep my part-time status for at least a year, and hopefully grow within my company, to get that full-time trophy. Yes, in my world, full-time employment would be a trophy. In my life, employment— at all, and in any form— has been a competition between my illness and my stubborn desire to be better than it is.

 Anyhow, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: If you are going to make resolutions, this year, make them attainable. Most people, especially those dealing with self-depreciating illnesses, can’t handle failure. It adds to the stress we are already trying to hold up enough to not get crushed. So, instead of saying something like, “I’m going to lose a hundred pounds” or “I’m going to keep my house spotless”, try losing just ten pounds, or making a goal to clean one room each week. But, if you happen to be one of the few who is super motivated, take it on! Do you, your way.

Here’s to a better year!

Time For War

Time for a new flag to fly over this house.

My mom is so far gone, that she no longer even mentions that something it has done, is inconvenient for her and myself. She is so afraid of its tantrums, that she keeps her mouth shut. That is, until I challenge whatever is going on. Then she gets angry, and yells that she doesn’t want to be in the middle. So... you’ll take the side of the overly-controlling jackass, just to avoid its wrath, but you’re fine taking it out on me? Remind me why I fight for you, again...

This most recent battle is because of the ever-increasing laziness of the jackass. It is too lazy to open the cupboard, reach up, grab what it needs, and close the cupboard, so it has to have a special bowl of these things on the counter. The counter which it continually screams "MUST BE KEPT CLEAR!!!!!" But that only applies to jackasses. One day, very soon, it will learn what I will do to fight back.

As I’ve mentioned before, if you indulge someone’s personality disorder, it does so much more damage than you could imagine. You cannot tolerate even the tiniest behaviors, or you wind up in emotional prison. Every single time you think, “It’s not that bad”, is one more step towards total domination. You’ve heard “A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step”? It’s the same with personality disorders. For every concession you make, the other gets a step ahead. This goes for all personality disorders.

What happens when you make a single sympathetic comment to an overreaction voiced by a person with Borderline Personality Disorder? You feed the fire, and they will soon expect sympathy for a lost eyelash.

What happens when you allow a hoarder to leave something in the corner “for now”? That person will gradually leave more and more things in places “for now”, until you can’t breathe inside your home.

What happens when you give allowance to a narcissistic demand? All hell breaks loose. Narcissists are far from subtle, and far from capable of compromising. It will take over in less than a week, and it will dig its claws into you so deep, and so fast, that you won’t even notice until someone points it out. I know, you’re thinking, “If it’s that fast, how can someone not notice?” Welp, allow me to use an example... When you get a paper cut on the pad of your finger, you usually notice, but it won’t hurt immediately. Once that hand sanitizer hits it, it’s all you think about. However, no bandaid on earth will release you from the pain and control inflicted by a narcissist.

I will continue to pray for the quick, and extremely painful, death of this sad excuse of a human. That day, I will laugh, and dance, and party. However, I won’t give it a single thought for the rest of my life. It’ll be like having a cancerous tumor removed. Or, for all my Doctor Who nerds, the Narc is like a Silence. 

That’s all. 

Gross

People who do this, absolutely disgust me.

So, her highness (sometimes referred to as a sibling) has been out of a job, because 2020. Long story short, mom found out that princess has been trying to apply for jobs, just using her phone. As we all know, filling out forms on a phone, simply doesn’t work. It takes too long, and hitting one tiny thing wrong, will make you lose everything. So, because of this, my mom offered to buy her a laptop.

Here’s where it gets gross...

My brother-in-law, whom I typically like, came to mom with the laptop they'd chosen. $1,900. For a laptop! Why? Because “It’ll last, and it won’t need updates so soon”. 

Here’s my thoughts: So, instead of buying a cheap-o laptop which, while not fancy, would still connect to the internet, and allow you to create and store a resumé, then, once employed again, buy your own unnecessarily extravagant machine... you choose one that you wouldn’t be able to afford, even with both of you employed? And you think that’s ok? You’d damn well better pay her back every single penny. With 100% interest.

These two are blatantly taking advantage of my mom’s kindness. Beyond taking advantage. It’s disgusting. And they have exactly zero shame. The sad part is, this is far from unusual. They take and take and take, and never give anything in return. It’s happened way too many times, but this is the worst. My mom is finally retiring, next month, so every penny counts. To expect her to pay nearly two thousand dollars is the epitome of exploitation.

This is just one more reason that princess and I will never get along. She’s always been a taker, and I’m a fed-up giver. It’s been this way my entire life, and it’ll never stop. 

When the inevitable happens, and my mom is gone, I want exactly nothing to do with either princess or her adoring subject. I’m done pretending these two humans are any kind of respectable people. 

Beyond inexcusable.

Jerk

People suck.

So, as some of you may know, I started a new job. I’ve been here for almost three weeks. I’ve learned some of the more basic functions, but with as much as there is to know, it’s going to take, like, a year to learn it all. Most people are understanding, but there are those people...

Some jerk just came in, and I could do most of what he wanted, but when it came to something more complicated, he went off, telling me how I don’t know how to do my job. Well, duh! Did you know every tiny thing at your job after just three weeks?!

Then there are the ones who can’t handle dealing with someone who has hearing loss. Oh, the impatience of some people! You think you’re frustrated? I’m a million times more frustrated than you!

Especially during the Christmas season, there are loads of people learning new jobs. There’s not a single working person who hasn’t had to learn a job, and believe me when I tell you that, each job is entirely different from the last. Even if you keep the same title, your new company does things differently. But you already knew that...

Basically, the most simple of human kindnesses doesn’t seem to exist, anymore. If you can’t be kind to those you’ve chosen to do something for you— a cashier, a bank teller, a postal worker— you shouldn’t be going out in public.

To all the absolute jerks in the world, I hope you’re happy with the knowledge that employees do, in fact, talk about you after you’ve left. Not because you’re special, or particularly valuable to our companies, but so we learn. We make fun of you, we make hand gestures that you can’t see, and we all learn to avoid you, so your experience at our companies keeps getting worse and worse. 

Customer service does not mean customer slave.

Stop Begging

We’ve all done it, but we shouldn’t.

When I started this blog, I lost so many “friends”, because they didn’t want to deal with my behavior when it had a name like Bipolar Disorder. They seemed to be alright with it before the diagnosis, though. I guess they fell in with the morons who fear the label...

Welp, a few years ago, I wrote a blog post, directed at some of these people, practically begging them to come back into my life. It was absolutely disgusting. If I could find it, without having to read every single post, I’d delete it. Nobody, and I mean nobody should lower themselves down to the ground, and kiss the feet of people who obviously don’t want to be in their lives.

I know that this is so much easier said than done, but believe me when I tell you that you are worth so much more! For every person who is shallow enough to not want to deal with your illness, there is someone dealing with their own illness, just waiting to meet you! Your kindred spirits will be some of your best friends. People who willfully don’t understand these things, and refuse to stand strong through each of your storms, are not your friends. Those people are beyond shallow— liking you for very few reasons. More often than not, those people are actually using you, and aren’t friends, at all. 

Please understand your worth! You are an absolutely incredible human, who deserves love and real friends! Fighting your own brain, on a daily basis, has proven exactly how strong you are! You’re still here, so your success rate is 100%! Those who refuse to stand by you, well, those are the weakest people in the world. Everything and everyone in their world, has to be puppies and sunshine, because they simply can’t handle darkness and struggle. 

You are strong!

You are worth it!

You are succeeding!

KEEP FIGHTING 

Fighting Back

Will this cause problems? Yes. Will it get the point across? Probably not.

Ok, this post was going to be about fighting a narcissist, but as I wrote the intro, I had other thoughts.

Narcissists will walk all over you, unless you start defending yourself, early on. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll do it, no matter what, but there’s a possibility that they’ll see that you’ve got boundaries. Yes, they’ll push those boundaries, but if you hold strong, you can keep them. The problem comes when it’s a constant, “I don’t mind” from the beginning.

There are loads of things that my mom “doesn’t mind”, which has made it so the jackass doesn’t just walk all over her, it actually twists things into being her fault. Yes, mom will put her foot down, sometimes, but it will then retaliate with some childish tit-for-tat. The best day of my life was when she got so angry with it, that she called it a jackass. Not to its face, of course, but oh... it was glorious!

Ok, so my original idea has now fused with the opening line to make something entirely different, and much more mature. I was going to fight everything it did, but that would make my mom’s life a living hell, because let’s face it, that’s not the best idea, on my part. Don’t get me wrong, I will fight it, and I will win, but maybe just on the important things. 

Example: Today, while I was at work, the jackass used my very expensive, very irreplaceable music stand, as its own personal coaster. Yeah, really. It has been told, thousands of times, that things, like my stand and the piano, are not to have drinks or food on them. Add on its ever-decreasing memory, and we find its crap everywhere. So, I threw it in the trash. I gave it one warning, and one only. From now on, any time I see something on my stand or the piano, it gets chucked.

Because of that piece of excrement, our house wouldn’t even pass for Section 8. There’s more mold than there is wall (in the basement, anyhow...), we’ve only ever painted three rooms, and only two have been done in the last twenty years, and so many other things that would take a year to type out. The jackass is so afraid of change, that it had a panic attack when mom finally put her foot down, and replaced our twenty-five-year-old couch (no actual padding, anymore... just fabric and springs).

Anyhow, should you find yourself trapped by a narcissist, make your boundaries clear, and do not, under any circumstances, allow those to be crossed. 

Crap

Today, I’d like to talk about butts.

As we all know, there are two things that come from butts— wind and crap. The wind may stink, but it doesn’t cause as big a problem as the crap. The wind dissipates fairly quickly, and there’s no need for cleanup, except an air freshener. Crap, on the other hand, is messy, and as some children love to do, it gets smeared, causing major problems.

Why am I talking about bodily functions? Short answer: I’m not. These unattractive things are more than literal— they’re metaphorical. This, readers, is narcissism.

A narcissist is capable of exactly two things when it speaks. It can blow hot air, which stinks, but is fairly tolerable, and is over relatively quickly. This hot air is often aimed at defending its own behaviors, telling someone how great it is, and can usually be ignored. Sometimes, leaving the room, and getting a clean breath, helps to keep going. The hard part is the crap.

Crap can be flushed down the toilet, but only by those who are professional-level when dealing with a narcissist. For those of us who have been emotionally abused by these sad excuses for humans, often find the crap smeared all over. It gets on the walls, in the carpet, but the hardest to clean, is the crap that gets on us. It has become such a part of our identities that, we’re not sure how to get it off, or what to do once it’s finally gone.

This metaphorical crap are things like, feeling like we’re the problem, thinking that their anger is our fault, and backing down to their commands, so as to not incur their wrath. Unfortunately, these feelings aren’t associated with just the narcissist; we continue these patterns within other relationships. Whether it be friendships, romantic relationships, or how we deal with job-related stress, we have been conditioned to think and act the way the narcissist taught us to.

Don’t look in this blog for a way to overcome that, because I have no idea. The farthest I’ve gone in healing is, understanding that, I am a person, I do deserve happiness and love, and I am not what the narcissist taught me to believe I am. If you can get these three thought patterns in your conscious mind, you can start your journey to freedom. 

Healing from narcissistic abuse is not ever going to be complete. It leaves a scar that rivals one from an open heart surgery. And, let’s face it, it really is heart surgery. You have to learn that you are capable, worthy, and not a verbal punching bag.

One piece of advice... Don’t try to speak to, argue with, or attempt to negotiate with a narcissist. They’re called “assholes” for a reason. An ass has no ears, and won’t listen. All it will know is that it feels attacked, and then comes the crap...

Thanks-Getting

Well, this is fun...

Thanksgiving is (usually) a time to gather with family, and share stories, thankfulness, and general happiness. Not in my house.

Today, I’m locked in a house with two of the most insufferable narcissists in history. Her royal highness, often referred to as Know-It-All, hasn’t even looked at me, let alone said so much as a “hello”. She’s going on, and on, and on about how much she knows about this and that. And the reigning narcissist is soaking up every word, despite never listening to, let alone believing, a single work any woman has ever said. Oh, and it keeps going back to the same topics, well after the subject has ended. 

I like maybe ten whole people in my so-called family. Cousins, aunts and uncles... I avoid the vast majority of them. I’ll spare you the reasons, because today is all about the narcissists (or so they’d like to think).

Literally everything is about them. The only reason King Narc said any word of thanks, was so that he got acknowledgment. And Princess Narc won’t shut up long enough to let my mom or me say anything. 

When these two get together, it’s intolerable. Mouths moving, competing for most words said in ten seconds, as well as those two stroking each other’s ego, so as to get it in return.

Princess Narc has been out of work because, well, 2020. Mom asked her about any new leads, and it was “Not many new jobs are posted.” So, I come back with how there are hundreds of new jobs on the sites I use. Her response was to go on about “junk jobs”, insinuating that jobs like mine are below her. I mean, how could I possibly have a “good” job, when I have the audacity to wear jeans?!?! I’ll say this one more time: No, my job isn’t glamorous, regular, or going to make me rich, but I love my job. I don’t care what she, or anyone else, thinks. I’m happy, for the first time in a decade, and nobody is going to make me feel like a lesser being. How many times have we heard the old, “If you like what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life”? Learn that quote, and live it, because it’s true.

I’m writing this, during dinner, counting the seconds until I can lock myself in my room, and be alone. 

But... As this is a day to express our thankfulness, I’m going to make a list. Feel free to share yours, in the comments. I’d love to read them!

- I’m thankful for my mom. She’s always been there, and rarely complains.

- I’m thankful for my aunt Ria, whose sassy-pants attitude is exactly what an aunt should be.

- I’m thankful for the time I got to spend with my dear Uncle Dick before he left us for a much better place.

- I’m thankful for music, and my ability to make it.

- I’m thankful for the job I get to be at. 

- I’m thankful for all my wonderful friends, near and far.

- I’m thankful for my ability to express myself through writing.

- I’m thankful for those family members who support each other, despite differing opinions and beliefs.

- I’m thankful for each experience, good and bad, that allow me to learn.

How’s about you?

Realization And Addition

Sometimes, what I want to say, isn’t what comes out.

My last post was dedicated to my amazing friends; one of whom was not properly described, and many were left out, completely. So, today, I’ll fix that.

Ms K, I am so sorry that I didn’t elaborate on who you are, and why you are amazing! This wonderful woman, who has been by my side for over twenty-five years, is the biggest contradiction. She is the kindest, most soft-spoken woman... until she needs to kick some major tush. She can go from screaming at a bully, to comforting her friend, in a millisecond. She is most definitely not afraid to face any roadblock she comes to. Moving family, home, and life with each military transfer? Conquered. Fighting literally anything? Grand champion! Basically, Wonder Woman in disguise. No lie.

I have quite a few other people I am lucky enough to call friends. No, I’m not best friends with them all, but we all know we’re all there for each other.

I’ve got a friend in Ogden, Utah, who is freaking amazing. Beautiful, inside and out, and one of the strongest wills I’ve seen. Empath, mother, friend. 

I have a friend who frankly makes me wicked jealous. In high school, she was a beautiful dancer, and could do anything choreography asked! Now, she’s a computer whiz, kicking butt and taking names!

There’s an awesome woman in a small town, whose husband became a doctor. While he was doing his doctor... training... stuff, she was raising a houseful of boys. They have all boys, still. I’m sure some of you can understand how young boys can be. The way this woman finds humor in absolute disasters... Wow! That’s an incredible trait!

There’s one lady, in particular, who never ceases to amaze me. She can’t have the one thing she wants, but the way she gives back to those who can... I’m in constant awe. We only went to school together for one year, but we still talk.

I have a friend, whom I have been talking with since the days of MySpace, but I’ve never gotten a chance to meet her. The funny part about that is, she even lived right near me for a bit. Anyhow, this mini powerhouse went through a sudden event in her life that she kept standing through. To give you an idea, this woman has over 1,500 Facebook friends. She has affected each one, and thanks to her being a first responder (at least, used to be), has affected thousands more.

Sorry if I didn’t get you in this post. Just know that, even though we don’t talk all the time, I am so blessed to have you as my friend. 

Thank you, all. Thank you for being you.

Great Friends

Good friends aren’t always great friends.

Most of my life, I envied TV and movie characters who have their best friend right there with them, know each other better than they know themselves, and do everything together. No, I don’t have that kind of friends. I’ve got better friends.

There are three amazing women whom I call my closest friends. Not one of them lives in my state, and haven’t for quite some time, but we have never lost contact. That, dear readers, is a great friend.

In chronological order, these amazing examples of true friendship are:

Ms K (sorry, not using names). This beautiful woman came into my life when we were just seven years old. That’s second grade, for my American readers. We had a period of time where we lost contact, but once we found each other again, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that we’d been apart. Not long after we reconnected, she joined the United States Army. There, she met an incredible man (who is career Army, to boot!). Their adorable little family lived in different countries, but we still kept in contact. We’ve held on, despite distances. I’ve only actually been able to be with her, to actually see her, just a handful of times in the last fifteen years, but we’re still besties.

Captain B was in one of my classes in seventh grade. Pretty sure we were both thirteen when we met. Maybe twelve...? Anyhow... After (give or take) twenty-one years, she still surprises me with the absolutely hilarious things that come out of her mouth. This very driven woman has such a way with words. She doesn’t say things the way most people do. She has her own flair that can’t really be described. She’s always known what she wanted, and she worked her tush off to get it. The hardest-working person I know, and I get to call her my friend.

Ms A was in band during our sophomore year of high school. She has got to be the wisest person I know. I mean, when I’m complaining about something, she can see it from an outside viewpoint, and completely change how I look at it. She also has a knack for research, which I probably abuse. Got a question? She’s got the answer. Whether it’s medical, philosophical, or theoretical, she’s up for the challenge. She’s been through a lot, but rarely do I hear her complain. She’s always there, even if just in spirit.

I have known these brave, kind, intelligent women for decades. We don’t finish each other’s sentences, we’ve never shared a wardrobe, but I am tied to each of them with a bond stronger than blood.

I have many other awesome friends, and I hope they know how amazing they are. Each and every person I call my friend, has their own amazing talent, style, and story. No, I will never have TV friendships, but that’s ok, because I’ve got real friends.

Bout Time

Sad, but seriously relieved!

The narc has a 1970 Pontiac GTO. It died in October 2001, and has been sitting in the driveway, ever since. Nineteen years. In those years, a lovely community of moss grew, countless wasps have made a home in mystery spots, and we made a game of finding rusted pieces that had fallen off. The vinyl roof was gone long ago.

Mom and I have been trying to convince it to sell the thing, but always got the response of, “It’s a dream”. Yeah... a dream. Not ever going to be a reality. Ever.

Very suddenly, it decided to sell it. I suck at keeping track of time, but it’s been maybe a month. Today, the classic was taken away. It was sold to a nice guy who is going to fix it up. He even said he’d let us come look at it, and keep track of the renovations! 

This is the car I spent my childhood in. It drove me to and from school, dance classes/performances/competitions, and is what I took my first clarinet home in. Ah... memories. 

Enjoy some pictures of our dear rust-bucket...

And the moss I mentioned...

Double Standards

Do I really need to say what this post is about?

Narcissists are full of double standards. They can do something horrible, but do it to them, and you’re in for it. To clarify, nobody likes having something mean they do, done back to them. Narcissists take this to an extreme.

The most annoying double standard it has, is the way it talks to my mom. It is condescending, rude, and can get as angry as it likes, but mom has to be peaches and cream, or gets a “Don't get so upset”.

Example: Tonight, it put itself in a stressful situation, which would not have happened if a narcissist had any honor to begin with. Mom simply asked if it was coming to eat dinner. Upset, and loud enough for me to hear, it uses the most condescending tone, and words, I’d heard in a while. It was throwing a tantrum because of the situation it put itself in.

Now, let’s turn this around...

A narcissist will needle you, until you give it the response it wants. Not the actual truth, its own truth. So, when asked the exact same question, five straight times, mom will give in, and give it what it wants. Mind you, all she does is sigh. Its response? “Don’t get so upset”.

Bonus that the thing is continuing to lose its memory, making it even angrier if it is told it is being reminded. It won’t go to a doctor, because, well, narcissism keeps it from seeing anything wrong with itself.

Counting the days...

Just Something Fun

Laugh a little!

So, I’ve been doing something that I have found amusing. I go onto Google Street View, and find people. Most of the time, these people look great, but there are a a few gems. Some have some funny looks, others get butchered, stretched, and even find themselves multiple times in one shot.

To these unfortunate souls, thank you for being at the right place, at the wrong time.

I present with no further comments.

**Talk about getting ahead of yourself 😂😂**

Fake Is Fake

“Fake it till you make it”

We’ve all heard the line. It’s overused, and frankly, it’s tired. We’ve heard it from so many people, who all seem to have a PhD in psychology, based on their survival of a hard day. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s 100% crap.

Do you know what happens when you fake it? You wind up doing far more damage, and not helping yourself, at all. Think of it this way: You’re driving, out in the middle of nowhere. No towns, no other traffic, just you. Suddenly, your car breaks down. What now? Can you fake it till you make it? No. You need both the tools and the knowledge, or you’re just gonna break it further.

I’ve been having a particular difficult time, lately, and I have exactly zero idea why. Literally everything is irritating. No, I’m not manic. I have no other symptoms of mania. I just feel completely done with things.

Today, it seemed as if everything I touched, I dropped. Every time I moved, I smacked some body part into something much harder than I am. I have bruises all over my body, just from today. 

Oh! The best part of today was when I screwed up, not once, but twice. And these screw-ups weren’t minor, no... I went all out for these mistakes. I told my manager what I’d done, and he was entirely unconcerned, except when it came to how I was. I had to laugh when he said I looked like I was going to cry. Yeah... That’s literally how I look all... the... time... 

Anyhow, don’t let people tell you to “fake it till you make it”, because it can, and most definitely will, blow up in your face. If you have a problem, ask a licensed professional for tips and tricks that can help you. Apply those tools every chance you get. I can promise you, though it may take years, with practice, and unfailing willpower, anything is possible. I mean, three years ago, I couldn’t step out on my front porch without someone going with me. Now, I’m working, running my own errands, and actually enjoying life! 

It may take you longer, or it may take you less time. Don’t be in a rush. Healing takes its own sweet time, and your journey is purely your own. Don’t judge your progress based on someone else’s. Do you, your way.

It Sure Is A Day

Can I crawl under the blankets, now?

Today is one of those days where nothing goes right, and everything goes wrong. There’s no middle ground. It’s an extreme. Here I am, on my lunch break at work, and I’m back to contemplating quitting. 

I keep doing this. Something goes wrong, my brain freaks out, and I wind up screwing myself over. Someone says something rude, and my brain goes into overdrive with “Everything sucks”, instead of “Look at all this amazing stuff, compared to the one bad thing”.

This feeling has cost me no less than ten jobs in as many years. Thanks to all the ridicule and useless criticism I got growing up, I don’t take even constructive criticism well. At all. Suddenly, it’s all, “I’m horrible. I do nothing right. Nobody likes me”. 

This is my reality.

I like this job, I really do, but I can’t get my conscious mind to speak to my subconscious mind. Rational thought has no power against irrationality with me. The worst part is not knowing how to fix this. 

I read too much into the negative, blocking out the overwhelming positives.

Awesome...

For Now

This isn’t goodbye, it’s “see you later”.

In my post “Tot Ziens”, I told you about the absolutely incredible man I was blessed enough to call my uncle. The world lost a great light on October 22, 2020. Today, we came together to share memories, stories, and the cheesiest jokes he’d ever used (which, let’s face it, most of them were).

My amazing uncle was finally laid to rest. He battled cancer, Parkinson’s, even COVID. Now, he’s free.

Being who I am, I have to take pictures, even at funerals. Here are some of my favorites...

Disgusting

Gross. Just... ew.

So, the reigning narcissist has a tendency to exercise, then sit and eat something, in the dining room, which then stinks up the whole room. In turn, it stinks up the house. Anyway, it gets angry when told of the smell, and even angrier when told to shower. Then come the rants about how I won’t eat in there when it stinks.

Friends, readers, sane people, lend me your opinions! Would you like to eat in a room that reeks of body odor? Imagine this: Take your lunch into the football team’s locker room, right after practice. Can you do it, or would the smell affect the flavor of your food? Fun fact: Smells are a BIG factor in enjoying food. It smells good, it tastes good. It smells bad, it tastes bad.

My life, ladies and gents... It gets upset because I react to a problem that it created. It is the victim, and I just have a problem. That is a narcissist.

Short post. Fin.

Tot Ziens

Perfect in ev-er-y way.

My uncle— the funniest, kindest person you’ll ever meet— was sent home, this morning.

I don’t have a ton of memories with him, since he lived a couple states away, but I have three very vivid memories. When I was in my early teens, he and my aunt were at our house, along with another uncle and aunt, and a couple cousins. My aunt Cathy played the accordion, while Uncle Dick sang. He always got demands for one particular song, that is so perfectly him. It says, “Oh, Lord, it’s hard to be humble, when you’re perfect in ev-er-y way”. I don’t remember the whole thing, but I remember his goofy look, dance, and the pure joy of everyone around.

Then there was the time, after my aunt passed, when Uncle Dick came over, and brought us all some legit Mardi Gras beads. I still have them. I have a picture of him from that day, with his usual goofy pose. I love that picture.

Then there was another aunt’s birthday party. So many members of our family gathered together for that one, and of course, there were cheers for the ever humble Uncle Dick. 

My mom and I were able to go down to visit him last year. We were told, then, that he had about two weeks left. Yeah... that was eleven months ago. This man was the most stubborn person ever to grace this planet. He started with nothing, and built himself, and his family, an amazing life. 

He was in his teens when the family came to America, leaving his home, his friends, and his life an ocean away. He married young, and never gave up. He learned English to a point where he had exactly zero accent. He learned a trade, and became a master. He travelled the country. There’s not a whole lot he couldn’t do.

Uncle Dick, you have been a spot brighter than the sun. Thank you for the memories, and the stories (especially when your as broke). You affected more people than you realize, and you are, and will always be, so dearly missed.

Until we meet again...

One Of Those Days

Sit. Open book. Read for three hours. Sleep.

Today was a trial. I got a great job as an in-store shopper at Sprouts, which I started two weeks ago. To be perfectly honest, I love it! I work with some absolutely awesome people, I’m almost always kept busy doing something or another, and I finally feel like I fit in somewhere. No, I’m not vegan, vegetarian, or organic, but neither are most of my coworkers. Everyone gets along, as far as I can tell. It’s nice.

Anyhow, remember that disorder I have? Tardive  Dyskinesia. It mostly affects my left foot (because, why not?), but also affects my left hand and my jaw. It’s been mostly ok for a while, but it acts up every now and then. Today was that day.

When it’s acting up, my foot turns itself inward, forcing other muscles to work harder. This, as you can imagine, results in searing pain, and, subsequently, my left leg being twice the size of my right (looks awesome...). I have no control over it, and if I try to force my foot forward, I literally trip over my own feet. 

Since my job is split between standing, walking, and almost running, you can imagine the effect it has on my foot on days like today. The pain was unbearable, causing me to be less chipper than I have been while working. Unfortunately, a few of my lovely coworkers picked up on my mood. I felt like I was bringing everyone down, so I hid in the corner, as often as I could.

I’ve been home for near two hours, now. I’ve been sitting almost the whole two hours. My foot is still twitching. I swear, my foot acts up more than my mood does, lately. I’ve been properly medicated for almost two years now, making my life a gazillion times better! But that stupid foot... 

Anyhow, I’m off tomorrow, giving my foot time to think about what it has done. A nice time-out should do it some good.

Pressure Building

And now, we sit back, and enjoy the show.

My mom is a very patient person. To a point, anyhow. I remember just one time where she blew a gasket. The other child and I were fighting, as usual, so mom pulls into a parking lot, gets out, slams the door, and took a breather. That’s the only time I really remember her reaching her limit. Now, that limit is slowly creeping up, again, and I’ll only say this: Vesuvius will be down to second place after mom blows.

As I’ve mentioned many times, her husband is both a narcissist and a hoarder. The basement is a nightmare that stinks beyond words, but that’s just half of it. 

Here’s a list of what’s upstairs:

The Living Room:

- Eight seriously heavy boxes of flooring he swore he’d use to redo the kitchen about fifteen years ago.

- A Lay-Z-Boy recliner (circa 1984, but still looks good) that he broke on May 6, 2020, and hasn’t fixed.

- Six (yes, six) bath-size towels he has stuffed between the couch and the piano.

- A statue of The Last Supper, with a decapitated apostle, that has been sitting there for eleven months.

The Dining Room:

- No less than six bottles of various outdoor poisons that have been used maybe four times this year.

- Another box of the flooring that he swore to use in the kitchen.

- Various actual garbage items he’s shoved between the shredder and the wall next to it.

- Other cans of who-knows-what in front of the shredder.

- A massive piece of cardboard from the box of our 65-inch TV.

- Garden clippers.

- Wood water-sealant, along with the brushes and rollers used (those smell real good...).

- A camp stool.

On The Table:

- Dead batteries of varying sizes.

- A pack of toothpicks, “just in case”.

- A napkin so dirty that a toddler wouldn’t even touch it.

- A can of mandarin oranges (just... why?).

On Top Of The Fridge (yes, really):

- A plate.

- A bowl.

- Two spoons.

- Two forks.

- A straw.

- A knife.

- Empty containers (fruit, soda bottles, etc.).

- Three cups.

- A food storage container.

- Two soda cozy things.

Back to my point...

Every time mom or I leave something on the counter, it gets a “What do you want done with this?” Or a “Can we find a box to put these things in?” Or my personal favorite, “We need to keep this space clear.”

He had some stuff in the kitchen drawers that didn’t belong there, and hadn’t been used in ten years, or more. I took it out about a month ago, and he just noticed tonight. Mom gave him the bag of all the crap that I’d taken out, and told him that, no, he can’t put it back in the drawer. His response was to find room in the pantry. Here’s the kicker... He wanted mom to move her cookbooks because they’re “in the way”. 

Moral of the story: A narcissist never does anything wrong. They can do whatever they damn well please, and you have to compromise what you need or want to accommodate their demands. He sees nothing wrong with leaving his crap around, but mom and I have to chuck stuff we want, simply because he needs more space for actual garbage.

I’m going to love the day mom finally blows up at him. It should have come decades ago, but at least it’s coming to a boiling point, now. I just hope I have time to make popcorn, first.

Hear Ye

Good things happen!

I suddenly lost my hearing in June. Today, that changed.

As I was driving, this morning, my ear popped. Painfully. And gross stuff I won’t tell you...

So, freaked, I went to the urgent care. Doctor said, yes, my ear burst, but the hole isn’t big enough to worry about. Best part: When the pain and ringing went down, I actually heard things! 

I heard my music (and am now aware why people looked annoyed), I heard my phone, I even heard my car! I may have cried a little. It was seriously emotionally overwhelming. Still not ever it.

Anyhow... Today is gonna be a great day!

Butt Out

Buh-bye!

So, there’s a woman who likes to put her opinions into everything. I mean, she’s a nice lady, but she has exactly zero right to butt in where she does.

I got a new car last month, right? When she found out, her response was a snooty “I thought she just got a new car”. Yeah... not your business. Are you paying for it? No. So, butt out.

Then there’s the...

Ok, backstory, first:

As some may remember, I recently lost most of my hearing in my right ear. There’s now a 95% loss in the right, and a 60% loss in the left. I was finally able to get in to see the specialist, who wanted to do an evaluation for a cochlear implant. I thought it over, did some research, and decided that it wasn’t a path I wanted to take. Not right now, anyway.

Back to the woman...

She just about blew a fuse when she found out I didn’t want one. “Well, it’s worked so well for my (whatever relation she was)!” Ok... great for her. She was born deaf, and hasn’t heard any other way. To someone who spent thirty-three years as a hearing person, I’ve read that it sounds like a talking doll whose batteries are dying. No. Not happening. Butt out.

You can have your opinions. You can voice your opinions. You can’t, however, judge someone so harshly for not agreeing with your opinions (good tip for this election year, too).

I love my new car, and I’m 110% happy with my choice to not get the CI. These things affect nobody but me, so, no... you have no right to get upset, judgy, or tell me I’m wrong because I don’t agree with you. 

Autumn

Can’t you just smell it?

October is both my favorite, and not. On the one hand, I lost a friend at the end of October, all the way back in 1997. On the other hand, I love the leaves, the weather cooling down, the smell in the air, and the beautiful way the world changes. 

Yesterday, I took a trip around the cemetery. I didn’t stop at Bryan’s grave, but I caught some pictures of decorated graves. 

Enjoy!

Seester Dearest

Come again?

I was informed, today, that my “sister” is now trying to convince my mom that our relationship problems are, in fact, my fault! Allow me to rebut...

I am by no means a perfect person. I admit that I am a difficult person to get along with. Close quarters make that difficulty an almost impossibility. I’ve flown off any handle there may have been, for stupid stuff; or worse, no apparent reason, at all! Having been entirely unmedicated for twenty-six years, then not properly medicated for nearly thirty-two years, has made it difficult for people to stick with me. However, it’s not impossible (e.g. Kierstin— 26 years, Berkeley— 21 years, and Anna— 18 years). 

All I got was, “She says she’d like to hang out with you, but you always... I can’t remember”. So true, it’s that memorable! 

So, what do I always do? Half the time, I don’t even know what I do! My life has been one giant inconsistency. There’s not a whole lot that I always do. Do I always sleep? No. Do I always get angry when you say that? No. Am I always going to agree with you, and be exactly who you want me to be? To quote “She’s All That”(1999)... That’s a hell no. 

But seester, dearest, here’s what you have always done...

1- Put me down for not being 100% like you. Most notably for liking the music that I do.

2- Roll your eyes when I talk about mental illness. Fun fact: It’s not something I can “learn to get over”, like you like to tell me. Just like your pain can’t.

3- So, this one isn't an always thing, but I remember four times (yes, four), when you flat-out told me that I’m not as classy as you are. Why? Because I have the audacity to wear jeans! Oh! The humanity!

4- Last on this list, but definitely not last in reality: You’ll decide to be a friend for anywhere from an hour to a month, then just drop me like a Large Hadron Collider (it’s a thing, look it up).

You, dear seester, are consistent, predictable, and intolerable. I may have Bipolar Disorder, but the way you go back-and-forth is as steady as a pendulum.

Ask yourself these questions:

-Has she ever told me that who I am isn’t good enough?

-Has she mocked me for something I like (even when Backstreet was life)?

-Which one of us blocked the other out when we were kids?

-Have I ever told her she’s good enough, without emphasizing the word “enough”?

-When was the last time I actually listened to what she had to say, instead of running my mouth like the speedometer on a Lamborghini?

Answer Sheet: (Read in first person, for ya.)

No, but I did that to her, like, a lot. 

No, but I’d pick at everything I could.

Me. Unless I was bored. 

No, but I did that to her. Still do.

Never. Didn’t even know she had a blog.

So, go ahead, make up these stories that make you the victim. If they make you feel like a good person, go for it, because I simply don’t care. You can lie like a public defender, but the one person you’ll never convince is the person you have put through hell for over thirty years.

We can still make holidays pleasant, but we will never be friends, let alone sisters.

Southern New Hampshire University

**This issue has since been solved. SNHU did right by me, by actually approving it as a one-time correction. But let this still be a warning.**

Basically... run!

As some of you may remember, I tried starting back at college in May of this year. I applied at, and was accepted into, Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU), taking online courses. This is my nightmare...

When you apply for college, in America, you fill out an application, send it to whichever college or university, and after a bit, you’ll get a letter or email with either an acceptance or rejection. Not with SNHU. No... You fill out a form to express your interest, then they call you, and they fill out the application, with you on the phone. Weird, but not totally unacceptable.

Then you go through the typical financial aid crap. Miracle of miracles, you’re in, and are approved for federal loans!

Then there are the classes...

The absolutely useless professors are, well, useless. Ask a question, get a vague response. Ask an and/or question, and get a yes/no response. “You can reach me anytime! Here’s my email, phone number, and available minute.” Yeah... right.

This crap hole has less than 50% graduation rate. Those who do graduate, even with a BA in English, can’t figure out the difference between “apart” and “a part”, let alone “farther” and “further”! Great education they got...

Now for the worst of it...

Should you need to drop a class, or drop out altogether, here’s a helpful hint: Let the semester go by, even if you have to fail the class. They don’t tell you about the drop process and fees, so reading ahead, and making copies of the current process is a must. 

I had to drop out about four or five weeks into the term, because of my mental state, and the rapid decline of that state. When I called, I was told that I’d have to pay back the federal loan I used. Totally makes sense. When I was on the phone with one of their representatives, I was told, no less than three times, that I wouldn’t have to pay back any grant money that was disbursed. 

Here we are, almost four months later, and I get an email, telling me I owed SNHU over $400! I called the financial office, told them what I was told, and got, “I’m sorry for any misinformation, but the balance still stands”... ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!

This joke of an institution won’t stand by their word. Anything you’re told can, and will, be countered by some rule that they hide on their website so well, that it would take a freaking programmer to find! 

Do not, under any circumstances, use this money-sucking factory! It’s not an educational institution, it’s nothing more than a nationwide shark, betting on your failure.

Rolaids Spells Relief

Yes, I’m talking about a specific person. No, I won’t tell you her name. She’s a good person, but she needs major help.

I met her in, like, 2009. She was odd, but good odd. She danced to music like nobody was watching, her sense of fashion was purely her own (and she rocked it!).  She talked, she listened, she cared. We were good friends! Then things started changing...

She got married to a guy I didn’t think was good for her, but that was her choice. When she had her first kid, things really started showing. Her tone, her body language, and her behaviors started seeking attention and validation, instead of giving it.

Things started getting bad for my mental health about three years ago. She’d post dozens of pictures of her kids in the comments of posts that had nothing to do with kids or pictures. On pretty much every post, I could expect no less than five responses. She’d respond with things out of left field. I’d say something about, say, cleaning out my closet, and I’d get a paragraph about what her kids did that day. Then she turned to pictures and descriptions of her kids on public posts of pages she followed, where anyone and everyone could see. Fun fact: Pedophiles go around social media to find pictures of your kids, and we all know what they do with those pictures.

The more attention she got, the more she needed. Same with validation and, yes, pity. She turned into a perma-victim. Any tiny thing she could get pity for, she’d blow it way out of proportion. Example: The last time I saw her, we went out for dinner. When I was driving her home, literally every pebble we hit, somehow hurt. And it had to be expressed with moans, groans, and detailed descriptions.

It got to a point where, every time I’d see her name pop up on my notifications, I’d get stressed. What’s her latest attention-getting tactic? How far from relevant is her comment? It was stressful, and frankly, it was irritating.

I had to unfollow her on all social media, and I actually blocked her phone number. I simply couldn’t deal with her, anymore. She wasn’t doing anything to help her disorder (Borderline Personality Disorder), because the reactions she gets from family, friends, and strangers, are too satisfying for her. Fun fact: Feeding into someone’s personality disorder, is counterproductive. It hurts them, not helps them. 

I’ve talked to my own therapist about this woman. I said, “She’s a good person, but she drives me nuts. I can’t deal with her.” My therapist’s response? “That’s ok! Borderline is a difficult disorder to be around.”

She recently removed me completely from Facebook, and holy cannoli... the stress is gone! 

Like I said, she’s a good person, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but not having any contact with her, well, that’s just for the best.

You will always bring a smile to my face when I listen to Soolaimon. I wish you well, and I pray you find your happy place. 

Too Full

I’ve never been through this, and I gotta say... I really don’t care for it.

Ok, I have this weird reaction when I eat, which,  everyone who has ever seen it, has to laugh. Normal people get the sensation of, “I’m almost full. Maybe a bite or two more”, right? Not me. I feel hungry while I’m eating... until I don’t. Like, I’m going along, enjoying my taco, then very suddenly, I’ll literally gag because I’m too full. Most of the time, I wind up not being able to even swallow that bite. It gets gross, if you have to watch this.

Anyhow, I’ve never felt the feeling I’ve heard about when someone is too full. Tonight, that changed, and it’s just... no.

I’m not a fan of new things that I can’t control. New pants? Great. New car? Fun! New feeling? No. Yes, this falls under the OCPD tab in my ever-growing owner’s manual for my brain. I’m a major control freak, especially when it comes to myself. I can’t handle when I feel “off”, because it’s not what I want for myself. 

For the last couple weeks, I’ve been fighting certain things that annoy me to the point of irritation, or even anger. I’ve managed to keep my thoughts to myself when reading something with grammar vying for first place in the “I read it in the comments” awards, which is a massive step for me. But, I mean, come on! What kind of kindergarten drop-out spells “Abviously”?!?! 

Anyway, my point is: Trying to deal with something new, has always been difficult for me. Anything about my mind or body, that suddenly changes, is just not ok with me. I’m nearing thirty-four years old, and I still can’t handle these things. Working on it, but not holding my breath.

I’m Amused

Ok, this is fun.

If you’re not in the know, there’s a scam going round with online sales. They find an item you’ve listed online for sale, offer a cashier check for more than the asking price, say they’ll arrange a pickup (since they’re conveniently out of the state for a while) after the check has cleared, and ask for personal information that seems innocent (name, address to mail the check, phone number, etc.). 

When you cash the check, all is great... for around six weeks. That’s when the bank finds out that the account it came from is empty. Then the bank comes after you for reimbursement, plus fees. Scammer gets the money and what you’re selling, and you’re out hundreds, or even thousands of dollars.

I’ve gotten so many of these. Thankfully, I have a smart friend named Taylor, who knows about this kind of thing. I’ve usually just left the scammers hanging, but today, I had some fun...

The following conversation is one such scam. The address and phone number are easily Googled to reach the Salt Lake City field office for the FBI. 

And now, we wait... 😈 

Check out the phone number these texts came from, and have a little fun, yourself. Maybe something to the effect of...

Hey! My friend sold you (insert something expensive), and I was wondering if you’d be interested in my (something similar to expensive item).

Then, feel free to send it to your local police office or fraud department, or go all out with your nearest FBI field office.

Go forth and spam the scammers!

End Of My Rope

I damn well better get this job...

Every time the jackass narcissist is around, his flying monkey treats me like crap. Anything I say gets an eye roll, a glare, or an answer with a seriously annoyed tone. I can do no right, narc can do no wrong.

The term “flying monkey” for a narcissist’s enabler, comes from The Wizard of Oz. The wicked witch’s flying monkeys do her bidding. The narcissist’s enabler does their bidding. Get it? And since the jackass narcissist’s goal in life is to tear me down to suicidal levels, the monkey picks up on it when the narc is around.

Tonight, I posed the question, “Are you aware of how you treat me when he’s around?” As you can imagine, this went over about as well as throwing an egg off the roof. 

“I either get the eye roll, a glare, or a bite.”

“No...”

“Yeah, ya do.”

“When you put dad down, yeah.”

“Not just then. I asked for help, and you glared at me, and said ‘just a minute’ like you were annoyed.”

Then... in the least apologetic tone I’ve ever heard in an attempt at an apology...

“Well, I’m sorry I did that tonight.”

🙄🙄🙄

I interviewed for a fabulous job, last Tuesday. People love working there, it’s got great benefits... Just sounds like a great place. However, the best benefit of this would be: I could get my own place! Away from the jackass, away from the back-and-forth enabler... 

I’m just done. It’s time to make time for myself— Time to find out if I’m worth more than my family thinks I am, time to choose who I have to be around, and time to be me. 

I won’t give my family the satisfaction of my death. Instead,  I’ll shove my happiness in their faces. Repeatedly.

Complications

Oh, the irony...

All Americans will understand HIPPA. It’s the overboard privacy law that prevents anyone from knowing anything about you or your medical history. It’s absolutely ridiculous that, if I was in a horrible car accident, my mom wouldn’t be able to know anything about where I am, what’s wrong, or if I’m on life support, simply because I’m an adult. Yes, if I list her as an emergency contact, she would have slightly more power, but still.

Welp, thanks to COVID causing an ever-increasing number of people suffering from paranoia, HIPPA is taking a blow, and medical offices could face a hilarious fine.

I’m at a doctor office, and they have a taped line on the floor, with a big, bright sign telling us to STAY BEHIND THE LINE! Because of this, I now know that Mr. L has an overdue balance of nearly ninety-four dollars. I know his name, phone number, and address, because he had to say it loud enough that the receptionist could hear. Keep in mind my level of hearing loss, and this is even funnier. 

Jennifer needs a referral for physical therapy, April needs a refill on her heart meds, and Kevin got an STD.

It has been proven, multiple times, that one person wearing a mask, lowers the chance of getting sick to just one percent. Put two people, still standing two or three feet apart, wearing masks, and there’s zero chance you’re going to get sick.

So, what’s more important? Would you prefer the zero percent chance of getting a cold, or your private information being out there for everyone to hear? 

The people who believe the high COVID numbers, need to do some investigating. Here, in Utah, they have hundreds of COVID deaths reported. Fun fact: Many of these deaths were car accidents, and many died of other, major causes (old age, liver/kidney failure, cancer, etc.). They haven’t even reported five actual, legitimate deaths. The deceased are tested during the autopsy, just to make the numbers higher, and increase mass paranoia. Over 90% of people who test positive, have no symptoms. Less than 5% end up in the hospital for any amount of time. Less than 1% are hit hard. 

Think about this.

Why?

Today, I went through something I haven’t been through in almost two years.

Anyone who has experienced mania, true mania, can understand. I don’t know where it came from, I haven’t been able to put my finger on a trigger, but nevertheless, it showed up.

I got angry, irritated, and took it out on a dear friend. I was able to ignore my phone, and watch a movie, alone, to decompress. It took over an hour to rid these thoughts and feelings from my mind. All things considered, that’s no time at all. This used to last for days— weeks, really— so under two hours is amazing.

I hate that feeling. I have no control over my thoughts (of which there are a million), so everything comes out with no filter. It feels like I’m in fifty-million pieces, clinging to any part of me I can find. I’m not me. The last time I felt this way was back in 2018, in England (sorry, again, B, J and L!). 

A long time ago, I promised God and myself that I would find at least one good thing in every day. I do this to remind myself that my life isn’t 100% bad. This keeps me alive. If I can find just one little reason to keep going, I can survive. 

So, today, I got a call from the car salesman I’ve been working with, who told me my new (kind of used) car will be ready tomorrow! Yes, I bought a new car! I wanted an Outback three years ago when I bought my Legacy, but couldn’t afford it. Now, I can! It’s a 2020, but they’re calling it “used” because it has 2,400 miles on it. I’m calling it new. I was joking with friends that I was going to get a license plate frame with “Mijn Tomaat” on it, because it’s red and kind of round on top 😂 And now, it has stuck, so I officially dub it “De Tomaat”! 

**Dutch words, by the way. “My Tomato” and “The Tomato”

Go Stick Your Hand In A Blender

That’s what I told it to do.

So, the narc has the usual trait of “I need this, so you must move heaven and earth to get it for me”. Our kitchen was designed by a moron. The counter hooks a corner, then sits right in front of the fridge. So, if someone is looking in the fridge, another can’t get past. And heaven forbid you need to be in that spot when the jackass comes in. 

It gives a disingenuous “excuse me”, then will either pin you to the fridge, or simply knock you over, so it can get through. Today, I’m beyond irritated. When it gave the obligatory and meaningless ask for excusal, I said, “You push through, I push back, and you will fall”. I’m done with this sad piece of crap. 

A narcissist isn’t a real human; it’s a construct of its own superiority complex. 

I hate it. It’s 74 years old. It’ll die soon. Not soon enough, but the end is in sight. Then my life can begin.

Overreact Much?

I laugh to keep from punching.

So, as I’m sure you’re aware by now, my father is a full-blown narcissist. Its “me, first and always” attitude is irritating to no end. The “my way, no highway” demands are intolerable. One thing that I can laugh at, however, are its overly juvenile overreactions.

Many years ago, mom had gone to bed, I was sitting in the dark living room, and the thing was downstairs (as usual). Welp, I turned off the dining room light, setting it off. It comes storming into the living room, yelling so loud that I’m sure the neighbors heard... “DON’T TURN THE LIGHT OFF! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I TOOK THE LIGHT OUT OF THE BATHROOM?!?!” Yes, really. Because heaven forbid it simply turn the light on when it enters the room...?

Things like this have happened throughout my life, and I seem to be the only one who can incur the wrath of three-year-old Satan.

Today, like every other day, it proved, once again, that it is nothing more than a spoiled toddler.

It has one of those hospital mugs that it keeps on the table. For years, it simply drank from it, directly. Not sure when, exactly, but at some point, it started keeping a straw in said mug. No big deal, right? Not always. It refuses to let me through, thus forcing me to reach over its precious mug. Guess where my wrist will inevitably land. Every. Single. Time. I finally had enough, and warned that I’d start throwing away the straws if the mug wasn’t at the edge of the table, and perfectly out of my way. I did this once. Tonight, it did it itself, and decides to blame me. Narcissists can’t take responsibility for their own actions. They will always blame the nearest person. This particular event gets even more hilarious. It replaced the straw, and literally taped it in place! I know elementary students with more maturity!

If you’re wondering... no, it didn’t apologize. It never apologizes. Unless it can make itself out to be the victim.

Please enjoy the picture of what immaturity looks like.

Job Hunting Is Hard Work

Rant in 3... 2... 1...

If you’ve applied for jobs recently, you know how frustrating those online assessments are. “There are no wrong answers. Just answer what you think” is total bull. There are wrong answers, or you wouldn’t get the “We regret to inform you...” email thirty seconds after submitting it. They take, like, twenty minutes to fill out, and twenty seconds to get a response. Tonight, I’d had it.

I applied at Ross, did the assessment, and got the denial. So, I wrote this to them:

I know the thing these days is using internet assessments in job applications, but they only tell you the very narrow views the computer tells you. You don’t get to know the applicant as a person. Clicks on a screen tell you exactly zero about who that person really is. Asking someone how they’d react to a situation, and only giving 4 pre-determined responses, simply doesn’t work. The way a person talks, moves, and engages, cannot be explained in an internet assessment. That is only something that an actual, live person can determine. You, along with far too many other companies, are losing out on some absolutely awesome employees, and making it harder for people to get good jobs that they would rock at. I did your assessment, and less than 2 minutes later, received an email, reading, “After careful consideration, we regret to inform you...” The computer didn’t think I can rock this job, but I guarantee, if I’m allowed to meet with the manager of the location, I’d wow them! I’m a person, not a score on a computer.

Thank you.

I’m done with these stupid things. What happened to the days of going into the business, filling out a paper application, and meeting the manager? That’s how I got my first three jobs. It’s a good system! People don’t matter anymore. They don’t want to mold someone into the perfect employee, no... they want the perfect employee already gift wrapped.

If you’re tired of this, feel free to copy that message, and send it to the company you know you’d rock with.

Slow, Not Stupid

Are you lucky enough to know a special needs person?

I’ve worked most of my career with special needs. I spent four amazing years with a self-contained high school class, I’ve worked with elementary specials, and for a week (yes, one week) with a day center for special adults. These people will test you until your very last hair has been ripped out, but they will also love you without limits.

I’m watching Burn Notice, and this episode had a higher functioning special needs man. When it came down to a fight between his longtime “friend”, and the good guy he’d met a couple times, he chose the good guy. This made me think about all my former kids.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know one of these amazing humans, feel blessed. Parents of special kids, you know what I’m talking about. 

After watching this episode, I was thinking back on the kids I’ve worked with, and noticed that Hollywood finally got one thing right. These very special people have a gift— they can spot the good person in any situation. It’s almost like they have a sixth sense that can identify someone’s heart. If you’re good to them just once, they’ve got your face tattooed on their heart forever. 

There’s one former student of mine, in particular, who will always bring a smile to my face, every time I think of him. I believe everyone needs to meet someone like him. I may have taught him how to count, but he taught me so much more.

Every person who comes into your life has something to teach you, and needs to learn something from you. You never know what that will be, and it’s never anything you might expect. 

Not my usual post. Was just on my mind.