Revelations Post-Consumption....

NOTE:  I apologize if the audio isn't quite up to par, and I'm looking into a decent mic to cut down on the static heard.

"Post-Consumption" and what I mean by that.  AFTER a malignant narcissist chews you up and spits you out (narcissistic supply).  Plainly, put.

What If.....

What if I said I wanted to pour my heart and soul out to you?  What if I could, even for a very short time, find such trust that nothing, absolutely nothing would be off limits in what I could share?  What if I didn't hold back, didn't keep my entire heart's secrets walled off from the rest of me, and expose every one in such detail that it took your breath away?  What if... I told you a secret you'd never forget, no matter how hard you tried?

What if you could be surprised at the stories I hold inside?

What if I told you that I've never trusted a soul 100% in my life but that I'm willing to now?

What would you ask me if you could ask me anything?

What if I told you that you'd be surprised at who I'm talking to, and would you want it to be you?

Respect Revisited.

It's one of the single most important traits a person can have; the ability to extend TRUE respect to another human being.  It's a taught skill, one that is vital to getting along with others on this planet.  Yes, those "duh" statements seem redundant because everyone is supposed to understand, and yet what I find these days is that most people have either discarded respect, or were never taught it to begin with.  Either way, gone are the days when I allow myself to be disrespected by others.

This topic is one I revisit when relevant.  I'm living in a situation where disrespect has become the order of the day from T.  I've talked to him, explained, begged and pleaded for him to SEE and UNDERSTAND what he does and how it affects me.  He says he gets it yet returns to the disrespectful pattern of behavior almost immediately.

Disrespect changes how I feel about people.  Abuse, mental and physical change how I feel about people.  Meaning, if you're going to disrespect and/or abuse me you will cease to be someone I want to be around, someone I admire, someone I love.  I'm not including family in this because that's a whole other situation.  If my sons disrespected me, which they don't, I would still love and admire them.  When it comes to relationships---sorry, disrespect and abuse, hatefulness and meanness simply don't cut it for me.  Eventually your abuses, disrespect, etc... will reveal you for who you are, and I will ultimately fall out of love with you.

T isn't abusive, but he is disrespectful.  If he says something mean or hurtful he usually apologizes and means it.  But apologies for the indifference, disrespect, etc... fall on deaf ears and leave me cold inside.  He's really killing my feelings for him--and yes, he knows this.

My past history, as you guys know, have been fraught with abuses and disrespect.  I endured a lot for the sake of what I thought was love.  The confusion of someone being hateful and abusive to me while claiming to love me has taught me much, and it's also left me with many questions yet to be answered.  I've been lucky in that there've only been a couple of relationships that have left me questioning what romantic love is.  And I say 'romantic love' because, again, that's a very different thing than love for family or friends.

My past colors my present.  It is what it is and in many ways this has left me at a crossroads of what I want and need, and what I have.  I don't really have a definition of love anymore outside of my faith.  Romantic love is fragile, and most of the time it's temporary.  Whether someone falls out of love and moves on, or whether that love deepens into something more deep, stable, and abiding remains to be seen in the early days of the relationship.  And that deep, abiding love is the stuff that keeps people together and happy for many, many years.  Not that it guarantees a perfect relationship or perfect life or perpetual bliss--it absolutely doesn't.  But that kind of love is what makes getting past the hard parts possible.

That kind of love is what makes getting past the hard parts possible.

I don't know why people tend to go into relationships EXPECTING so much without any wiggle room.  Destined to fail, those relationships put under that amount of stress and pressure will ultimately fail.  It's been proven.  So why do people do this if it's going to only end in chaos and separation?  The quick answer: Not all people do this.

Control freaks are those who ultimately end up destroying a relationship.  And by that I mean those who have an incessant need to control EVERYTHING about the relationship AND the person they're with.  If someone is trying to change everything about you, that relationship you have with them will eventually end, because it will become too hurtful, too harmful to you to stay in.  And it's unhealthy to stay in relationships like that.

Then you have someone like me who's had an emotionally-abusive childhood, who didn't have the benefit of a healthy, plugged-in mom, or a father around for any part of development.  I didn't have the best teacher as to what to pick in terms of a partner.  A boyfriend, a husband... doesn't matter.  My choices have been mostly bad.  Mostly.

I'm going to have to finish this at a later date.  I'm feeling very sick today and can't continue to sit at the computer....

To be continued....

Out of My Hands.

This isn't the first time someone has sought to control me.  One big difference with the previous experience with a control freak is that, this time, it's not as much abusive as damaging in more insidious ways.  While I strive for better health, reaching for remission of this AIH, striving to lift myself above the miserable effects of illness and its treatments, I find this mountain I have to climb isn't of my own making, and I wonder often... how the hell did I get here?

Point blank--when someone is dealing with health issues that REQUIRE certain dietary changes you just don't go against better judgment, advice, and information.  With everything I'm dealing with, with my BP skyrocketing into stage 4 hypertension (brought about by Prednisone, I'm told), you don't hand that person a bag of salty chips and walk away.  This is basically what T is doing.

How do you "Forget" something so important?  The deep-seated indifference has become a danger to my health now, and given that I can't even so much as walk across a parking lot, much less through a grocery store, I'm completely at T's mercy here.  I can't walk, stand, or do anything without excruciating pain in my back---something they've not gotten to the bottom of.  All we know so far, due to an MRI, is that it's NOT spina-related.  AI or what, then?  Doesn't matter at this point.  What matters is that I do the things I'm supposed to do to get myself well, healed, and healthy again.  And the one person who has most of the control has chosen to disregard even the doctor's advice.  WTH??

Bringing home everything I'm not supposed to eat.  Salt, sugar, junk, processed foods, and deciding that a piece of meat for dinner is somehow healthy... I simply don't understand.  I have to eat more vegetables and fruit, yet I can't stand at a counter long enough to make salad.  Ugh.  It's exhausting even talking about it at this point because I'm weak and having trouble thinking.  Where is this going to leave me in the end?  Destroying my health one meal at a time is what's happening now, and I have no idea what to do about it.

I've been here before, though it was much much worse.  Getting 'sick,' even with the cold or flu, wasn't allowed.  And if I DID get sick, or if something was making me less-than healthy or energetic, I was treated like garbage and made to feel horrible for 'daring' to get sick to begin with.  Back then, just a few short years ago, I had no idea I was dealing with THREE heart arrhythmias AND an autoimmune disease that was trying to destroy my liver.  I didn't have health insurance, and the clinic I went to wasn't aggressive with testing for most things.  All I knew is that I didn't feel well or was very sick and tired and hurting a lot of the time, something that my ex wasn't on board with.

You find out quickly who cares for you when you become sick.  Trust me on this.

This time around I'm with someone who emphatically claims to love me, care for me, and tells me I'm the most important person in his life.  He volunteers this information---I don't ask for it.  My last relationship taught me to not trust people, anyone in fact.  Maybe one day I'll get past that.  Maybe not.  I have no idea.  So when T tells me he loves me then sets out to undermine my attempts at healing and obtaining better health... it makes me not trust him, or his motives.  Echoes of the recent past have come back to haunt me, laying waste to so much I've strived to overcome.

I guess I have to accept the fact that in many regards this whole thing is out of my hands.  As long as I'm too sick, too weak, and too painful (lower back) to fend for myself 100%... I'm vulnerable and at the mercy of another.  And for the second time in my life the people who I'm at the mercy of don't really have my best interests at heart.  Well, T does... but fails to remember what's needed and necessary for me to recover.  I really don't know how to take that.

I'm heading to the other room here in a few minutes, my retreat, my decompression chamber.  The day is somewhat overcast, which will make rest and relaxation a bit easier.  There's something soothing in cloudy days.  While I need and want and love those sunny days, the clouds are still welcomed from time to time.

"I Forgot"

I hear that phrase a lot these days.  What does it mean, exactly, I'm not sure; but I know how it feels.  Having to rely on someone for ANY reason requires trust, and I mean absolute trust.  Having to rely on someone who's betrayed that trust on a daily basis is a hell I wouldn't wish on a single soul.

I absolutely MUST get better, well, healthy.

It's not like I haven't been here before.  Being sick isn't fun for anyone, and being sick in the presence of someone who lacks compassion, or who FAKES compassion, is stressful, uncomfortable, and more than just a little sad.  I have to say I'm surprised at how many people lack even the minimal amount of compassion required to be 'human.'  Is this really the norm now?  I have to make myself believe it's not the norm, because it it is then human beings are in serious, serious trouble.

There seems to be a limited coffer in which compassion comes in only specific quantities--at least in some people.  And when dipping into the reserve almost appears as a painful event for narcissists.  There are rules as well that must be followed lest you end up on the wrong side of favor with those types.  Timing, whether or not it's convenient (for one to be sick), how long the illness will take to resolve, and if none of the criteria is met then the faux compassion is quickly discarded and the true feelings of resentment and irritation is revealed. Yes, it's been there all along, but that person, that narcissist has grown weary of caring for you.

It's heartbreaking to feel that kind of compassionless ire radiating from someone you love, someone you THOUGHT or THINKS loves you.  It's the worst kind of betrayal, because we all long for unconditional love; something a narcissist is incapable of.  They can play the part, but the script changes dramatically when it comes to the test of time, and it does so every single time.  As for the threshold of said narcissist's limit for compassion, care, love, and selflessness depends on the individual and how much the narcissist is "paid" for their pseudo-love and false devotion.

For me, right now in my current situation, it's a matter of indifference and lack of action that's the real problem.  Half-assing his way through just about everything (except his own personal needs) is a way of life for him.  This was also the case with a past relationship of mine in which half-assing was more like an art form, a 'skill' in which the narcissist patted himself on the back for having such prowess.  Congratulating himself for a lack of feeling, caring, compassion, empathy... while blaming me for his lack of caring.

As things currently stand it's a matter of way too many "I forgot" statements that are more like fingernails dragging down a chalkboard than anything remotely comforting.  Yes, we all forget, some of us forget a lot of things.  But when it comes to the really important matters forgetting isn't well-accepted.

The important matters, while I won't go into details, are serious ones that impact my quality of life and health.  Forgetting isn't even an option to most normal, caring individuals, but in T's case... it's a way of life, something he does, and something he doesn't feel important enough to address.. though he emphatically says so.  I don't buy it, and I don't because you can't put all forgetfulness on a level playing field with every single situation and circumstance.  Forgetting to run a dishwasher, for example, isn't on the same level of importance as forgetting putting the wrong medication in the wrong place when it can risk the person's life.

If there is any compassion inside, any at all, it comes into play without having to invoke it, no matter what.

This is more of a rant than anything.  I'm both disheartened and disappointed at T's behavior.  I have no interest whatsoever in trying to make him understand.  I have far too many other things to focus on, including (but not limited to) new issues that I have to see the doctor for tomorrow morning.  Enough is enough, and I've had enough.  My life has changed drastically, and I'm trying to get it back on track, get healthy, and stress isn't something I need right now.  In fact, on prednisone.. stress is to be avoided at all costs.  Many days this means disappearing into my room/Girl Cave in order to stretch out, listen to music, and shut the entire world away....

..I've had to resort to that withdrawal far too many times these days...

Another Day of Repetition.

I can't begin to tell you how frustrating it is to have to repeat everything I say, all day, every day.  If the room is dead-silent, if I'm a few inches away from T... I still have to repeat everything I say.  It's gotten to the point where I refuse to repeat anything and choose to let the chips fall where they may, the consequences of not listening/tuning out what he needed to hear.  It's a lot like talking to a child, and I'm experiencing an emotional and physical exhaustion that defies description.  My health isn' the only thing taking me out at the knees these days.

Respect is an everyday issue for me--getting respect that is.  I find it difficult to have a conversation with someone who is off in another world and on another planet entirely.  These days, I rarely bother to begin a conversation because of the hassle that's all but guaranteed.  I'm not trying to be mean or insensitive when I do this, and my goal is to reduce the stress and anxiety involved with having to repeat my words over and over again, no matter what the situation or how important the message.

Don't think for a minute that I don't understand that there are times when 'not hearing' someone is justifiable.  I've been there myself and know what it's like to have someone withdraw or become ugly in response.  I understand human nature enough to know that shit happens and we're not always on the ball as we would like to be.  Given that, a distracted person isn't always someone who's tuned-out.

Tuning someone out comes from a place inside that has reduced the importance of the person speaking.  I've had it done to me, and I've no intention to do that to anyone who's tuning me out (including T).  I do expect some effort, though, and after 2 years of this behavior it's time to admit there's a problem.  Accepting responsibility for that problem is also an issue for T, which means this tuning-out habit is getting worse and worse, and it's now to the point of intolerable.

Keeping things to myself; while not always easy, it is necessary.  However, it is getting easier and easier to just not speak to him about anything at all.  My recent past has taught me much, and most of what I learned while in the throes of disrespect, chaos, and out-right bullying and emotion abuse, etc. is that I don't HAVE to lower my standards when it comes to how people treat me.  "I" get to choose who I keep in my life, and it's up to me to stand up for myself when I'm not being treated with respect.  Action on my part is warranted, and I recognize my roll in how people treat me.  I've grown stronger in this respect; stronger, but not perfect.  I'm getting there, though.

We'll see how this day progresses...

We'll see.

Family--Beating My Head Against the Wall

To say I come from a dysfunctional family is putting it mildly.  Further back than my own memory reaches my siblings have hated me.  No, really, I'm not making this up or being dramatic.  I don't talk about this much because it brings a lot of sadness and discomfort, anger and resentment rushing to the surface.  It's a long story, really, and one with gaps and holes and far-reaching voids where many memories have vanished.  It would be oh so much easier had I been adopted, because I know virtually nothing about my family tree, for all the asking I've done over the years, and my parents are both deceased with my having absolutely NO idea where I came from, who my ancestors are, or what my connection is to any of them, if at all.

I was a "Mistake," according to my mother.  Now, my relationship and experience with my mom is a story in and of itself, and honestly... I could write a novel here about that.  But I'm not going to.  Let's just say my mom was disconnected by the time I was born, old enough to be my grandmother, and about as unplugged as a parent could get.  It was easier to micromanage and control everything to a damaging degree, rather than create experiences that may have given me a chance and coming out on the other side with less 'issues.'  Yes, of course I have issues, and in a way it was my mom's only legacy.

How is it that I could know little of nothing, if anything, about anyone in my family tree?  Well, that's easy--when you don't answer questions, share nothing, and ensure that not a single photo, letter, information, etc. gets passed down to you... well, you can't ask a dead person questions.  Point blank, not pretty, but absolute truth just the same.

Everything from health/medical information was shared primarily with ONE of the 6 children, and I wasn't the one who got the information.  My eldest sister was my mother's confidant, her go-to gal, and there was an almost too-close relationship between my mom and my oldest sister (old enough to be my mom).  I spent my entire life on the outside, looking in, and it was that way until my mom passed away (over 20 years ago now).

One sister and I shared a dad, and my other siblings share a father form my mom's 1st and only marriage.  Yep, my other sister and I were illegitimate.  I could really care less about that, to tell you the truth.  My dad was out of the picture when I was 18 months old, and my mother really never spoke of him or his family except for some really scary things, very dark and scary things.  Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that if you scare a kid like that, they're most likely not ever going to ask too many questions.  This was the case with me.

The siblings who had a different dad hate me.  Just the truth.  I was even told that one reason they despised me was that, because we were very poor, they often didn't get as much milk (the example used by one brother and sister) because when it came down to the wire... "The baby" (me) needed it more than they did.  I can't speak for what happened when I was a baby.  I can't apologize for something that I didn't do on purpose.  Yet that resentment carried right into adulthood for my 3 brothers and one sister.  BTW, I don't really think of them as brothers and sisters because they've not treated me as such throughout my life.  What memories I have of life with them.. isn't good.

I was born very late, with my mom being in her early 40's when she had me.  All my siblings (but for one) was grown and gone and with kids of their own, so I pretty much grew up like an only child from about age 10.. when one of my sisters married and moved out (she was 16).  We lived in a 3 bedroom house that was eventually condemned, and my mother (a hoarder) used all 3 bedrooms as her hoarding rooms.  My sister, the one I share a dad with, had her own room, lots of 'stuff,' decorated walls, record player, records, clothes, and a bike.  I didn't have enough toys to even have a toy box, so even in this respect I would find myself living an entirely different life than my sister... and everyone else, actually.

My mom was absent, indifferent, cold most of the time...and even cruel.  Skipping over more details than will fit here, I will say that my childhood was very, very odd, and the damage done has proven to be long-lasting.  Still, I spent my life longing for a family, a REAL family.  Now, coming from a family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters you would think that a strange thing for me to say.  Aunts, uncles, cousins... really had nothing to do with me, but for one cousin who, I guess, simply took pity on me.  I felt the hostility from them all growing up and didn't understand any of it at all.  I felt it, saw it, heard it, and experienced that hostility until we moved away from California.  We moved to Colorado because my oldest brother wanted my mom to move there so she could babysit while he and my SIL could work.  I was in 8th grade when we moved, and my life didn't get better at all.

Longing for a real family... even to this day....

I would eventually move away from the state of Colorado.  My kids and I, to make a long story short as possible, ended up here in the south along the Gulf Coast, where we settled into that strange place (strange to us because we weren't from there) and would end up calling the south "Home."  It's the only place that ever felt like home to me.  I'm still in the south, but a little further north by a few short hours.  But back to "Family"....

When my mom passed, naturally my eldest sister got everything.  Very important items my mom was holding for me until I could send for them were divided amongst my brothers and sisters and nephews... or just tossed out as garbage.  They did this QUICKLY after my mother died, the day they found out, using the excuse that they were sure that since she was on disability, got a veteran's widow pension, and on Medicare, etc... that the 'government' was going to come in and take her stuff.  Yes, LUDICROUS, but that's the excuse they used.  And when I arrived for her funeral I wasn't even allowed to so much as have a photo of hers.  My eldest sister 'allowed' me to take ONE photo to have it photocopied.  My mom had boxes and boxes of photos, btw.

Few actually had anything to say to me at the funeral, or after.  It was the same shit, different day.. only worse.  A few years later I'd tried once again to make some kind of connection with them, but it ended in a total disaster.  I finally came to my senses and realized that I was the only one putting in any effort and that it just simply wasn't worth it.  I basically told my oldest brother and his bitchy wife to piss off.  And yes, it felt great and was LONG overdue.

In the present....

I know pretty much nothing of my family history, my family tree.  My last living grandparent died when I was 2 weeks old, and everyone else was so much older than me that no one really had anything to do with me.  My mom wasn't really forthcoming with names, histories, etc., though she did incorporate some names and such in a few fun stories she would tell from time to time.  But as a little child I really had no idea if she were making the stuff up/telling fairytales, or if the information was actually true.  And after my mom's death... the information about grandparents and such were simply not given to me, even if I asked.  Photos, etc.... all given to my sister, who claimed some neighbor stole them, were lost.  My brothers, etc. chose badly when they decided to give my sister everything.  One person said they thought my sister pawned or sold the framed antique photos of grandparents etc for money.  Sadly, it sounds exactly like something she would do.

The cruelty extends into adulthood....

When one of my brothers passed away a few years ago I was told about this AFTER the funeral had taken place, and... I was told on Facebook by a distant cousin.  She apparently looked for me on Facebook with ONE purpose in mind, and that was to send me a message that read.. "B**** passed away last week.  Thought you'd like to know."  I asked "How/why?" which lead to her replaying in the same short, blunt fashion. She then disappeared and didn't say a word ever again.  I'd written back a couple of times.. with no response.  I'd written my nephew as well, and have been ignored.  And this nephew I grew up with and was very close to most of our lives.  He's only 2 1/2 years younger than I am.

Cruelty was their favorite weapon, and continues to be so.


The family tree...

As someone who feels completely disconnected from 'family' or blood ties, history... it only stands to reason that I would, eventually, WANT to know something about my own family history.  SOMETHING.  ANYTHING.  So when I decided to look into www.ancestry.com I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction.  Maybe this site could help me put the broken pieces together in such a way that I would at least see my connection within the bloodline.

What I've done...

I created an account at www.ancestry.com over a year ago, but since I wasn't really willing to invest any money into getting a full account, I've only spent the smallest bit of time there.  But that changed for me about a week ago when I saw a commercial online for Ancestry and a DNA test they offered that shows where your bloodline is from, at least in percentages.  A lot of folks have jumped on board for this.  Now, one cool thing about the DNA test and having a real account (which I don't yet) is that you can set your family tree to allow links between matches for DNA, region, etc.  It's a lot more complicated than that, and they have a video that explains it all, but it's a really neat tool and a good place to start.  But what about for someone like me?....

DNA results may be the only thing I really get out of this, and that's okay.  It's something, isn't it?  It would be nice to know for sure what ethnicities are involved in my family tree, even if I don't have any family history to see how the pieces fit.  I sent my kit off today and, from what I understand, it will take about a week for the results to get uploaded online.  Knowing it's not going to give me complete picture of my family tree... I'm still okay, and I'm fairly patient where that's concerned.

So what's my freaking point here?

My point is this: If you have information about family history (names, places, etc) please share them with your kids.  Don't leave them in the dark to spend the rest of their lives wondering who they really are (history wise), where they're from, what their history is, etc.  It's really not a good or easy thing to live with when you have no idea about those things.  Don't do that to your kids, seriously.

My desire to know more about my family history/ancestry runs deeper than the hurt from the disconnection from my actual 'family members.'  I rarely use the word 'family' when speaking about them.  They're blood relatives to me, but nothing more.

I have to wonder if I'm beating my head against the wall trying to piece together a family tree I know nothing about.  Names, birth dates, etc. are required to even do searches or make connections.  What little information I have really just stops at my mom, and my dad I have only a name and birth date.  It's really like hitting a brick wall.  But is it worth it, all of this effort?  I don't know.

I really just don't know.  The one thing I DO know is that I'm left with the question: Will I ever fully understand myself in connection to history and ancestry?

*shrugs*

Why are You in My Face Again?

Far be it from me to stop anyone from having their own opinion and expressing them.  However, if you're spewing hate and rhetoric on my FB posts, then we really need to talk...

Lately I have one nemesis, and it's someone who touts being a conservative/republican but behaves like a total left-wing extremist.  Whatever.  I know this person in real life and have to interact with him and his wife on occasion due to my being a customer at their place of business.  So be it.  But there's a huge problem I'm having now with this guy vomiting ugly comments and replies on my FB posts... aimed at military members and veterans on my friends list.  THAT will NEVER EVER be okay.

So while the above person is just a representation for my point here, I think it's time I laid down the facts about what I think about taking a dump on other people's pages....

You don't have to [take a mind dump].  If you want to take a big ole steamy brain dump, do so on YOUR OWN PAGE.  Using the word "YOU" here loosely, as that person doesn't read my blogs.  This is not directed to anyone reading, just to be clear.  I'm basically speaking my mind about good old fashioned manners, etiquette, and just having some freaking class when it comes to dealing with others.  Not to say it won't ever get heated, because it's in our natures as human beings for that to occur.

Shit happens.  Or, "Feces Occur," if you will.

I read a lot that I don't agree with.  I see a lot I don't agree with.  Yes, there are things that offend me.  No, I don't usually react to them and simply go right on past to the next thing.  So why is it that doing the least confrontational thing is so lost on some?

Ugh.

Some folks need a brain enema...

Seriously.

Honesty has become a vulnerability.  People who speak their minds honesty are often faced with ridicule and contempt by those who have opposing views. I believe most of us get this and have experienced that ridicule first-hand.  While a valuable lesson, that ridicule and backlash, while it reminds us how we should choose our words carefully, we must always remember that honesty is STILL the best policy, and that lying by omission... is STILL lying.

A friend who reads all my blogs, and I mean every entry (bless her heart), sent me a message and said, "I don't know how you do it. Aren't you scared of haters bashing you?"  Well, no.. I'm not.  I refuse to allow haters and bullies to dictate how I think, behave, react or don't react to any given situation.  I mean, once you give away your power it's really hard to get it back.  It's best not to give your power to another to begin with.

I've relinquished my power to haters and bullies in my past.  My entire life, up until about 3 years ago, I learned to suppress my feelings, to bury anger deep, to hide the foundations of any feelings I had.  Not to say I wasn't emotional, because BOY was I ever.  I wore my emotions on my sleeve for the entire world to see.  But when it came down to recognizing for more than a second what created those emotions, and when it came down to standing up for myself, that's where everything fell apart, and it did so because I was taught early on that having those emotions.. was a bad thing.

I no longer think that, and because I no longer think that I FEEL more intensely those emotions I used to keep in check to the point of denial.  It's been a liberating process, being able to access feelings like that.  I don't have to apologize to anyone for having those feelings, and I reserve apologies now for when I HANDLE those feelings badly; thankfully this is seldom an issue.  So when someone writes me and is worried because I allowed the emotions and thoughts etc to flow freely on the pages here, or in my other blogs, I DO take into consideration what they're saying, but I also take into consideration that I've come a very long way to not only reach my feelings and access them more fully than before, but that it's MORE than OKAY to express them.

There is a danger to being honest.  There's a danger in speaking freely at times.  There's a risk that you won't please one person or another person, etc.  Not everyone is going to like what I'm saying.  But so what?  There will be those who DO, and it's with those people that the unspoken camaraderie is expressed and felt.  What I say, what I express, actually has helped people, and it's certainly helped me.  So I've no intention of changing this, just so everyone here is clear on where I stand.

I will accept the dangers of honesty and continue to be honest, sometimes bluntly, and I will take into consideration the edges honesty has by definition.  I'm not out to hurt anyone, and this is why I name NO names here as to whom I'm speaking about.. IF I'm speaking about someone else.  It occurs to me that having to say this means I'm still aware, very aware, of the risks I take.  But it doesn't matter.. I'm not here to write fiction or make things look better or worse than they actually are.

I'm going to be myself, haters and bullies be-damned.  No one should give up pieces of themselves for others to devour, and that's exactly what you do when you censor your words, thoughts, and feelings in a place or forum where you're there to speak your mind.  People can choose to read or not read, listen or not listen.  Actions are a choice.

So to my friend, though we've spoken about this at length--I hear you.  And I'm okay.  I'm okay with what any hater or bully thinks about me, because I don't answer to them.  And.. you shouldn't either.

Redirect

I need a complete and total redirect in my life, and I'm the only one who can effectively do this.  Yet, I wake up each day wondering exactly how to make it happen.  Today is yet another one of those days.

There are times when the wounds of my past don't haunt me.  I think that's fairly normal across the board, that there will be good days and bad days and days when you're strong or weak or unsure.  On the days when things are good I don't think much beyond what I really need to do in the present, getting well, learning more about what I'm dealing with so I'm prepared and know what to do and how to proceed with my life.

Today isn't a good day, starting from the moment I woke up...

T isn't the easiest person to live with.  He creates these situations that promote stress and drama and it's completely and totally unnecessary.  In the age of technology we have options for communication, and those options provide secondary options as to how we deal with people at any given moment.  When someone calls and you can't talk--let it go to VM and read it at your convenience.  If It's an emergency, that person will most likely follow it with a text or another PC.  If you get a text and it doesn't require an immediate response, or even if it does, and you CAN'T respond--simply don't.  Read it later, read it then, reply later.. those are options the receiver has.  Isn't that an easy concept?  I mean, I certainly think so.

For the better part of a couple of years now I have told T this: "If I text you with information you don't have to text back or call me right away.  Sending you information doesn't mean an immediate response is necessary.  Read it, don't read it, deal with it when you can."  I think that's a pretty clear indication that I don't require a response.  I've also told him if it's an URGENT situation I will call, and if it's an EMERGENCY I will call 911 (if it's me), or I will keep calling so he gets the sense of urgency.  Again, I think that's pretty clear, right?

So this morning I realized I'd forgotten to remind T about a couple of REALLY IMPORTANT matters, and I chose to send him a text message, rather than an email.  And what does he do?... call me immediately and begin whining about my texting him.  Well, alrighty then, Ace... you're officially on your own now, and if you mess up and forget to cross that T and dot that I then it will be solely on you, as well as the COST.  Don't blame me.

Why do people do this anyway?  Why not just do what most of us do and ignore a text when we can't deal with it right then?---responding to the urgent ones are a different story, of course.  Still, is that drama necessary?  No, I don't think so.

But now the peace and serenity I strive for each day, beginning with the start of my day, is shattered.  Not only am I stressed out now but feeling the physical effects of that stress, something that isn't at all comfortable when your body doesn't have enough cortisol (Prednisone suppresses that HUGELY) to handle that stress.  I just don't understand why people do this.

My goal is to regain my health and my strength and stamina, my vitality.  I understand that achieving that goal is a process, a mindset, and a choice.  I've chosen to take care of myself, but I break that promise every day.  Anyone who knows what it's like to let yourself down knows how far that can set one back.  But I forgive myself for falling short and move ahead as best I can.

A stronger me, a healthier me could handle these things much better.  I've spoken to T at length about AIH, the heart issues, etc... and explained to him what I'm dealing with, what the medical facts are, what I can do and not do and what I need from him.  Those conversations, btw, are completely ONE-SIDED.  I talk, he sits there, and he doesn't provide input, doesn't ask questions, doesn't give feedback, doesn't have a single thing to say.  Well then, okay.  At least he was warned.

You see, T gushes about how he 'does care,' how he's 'plugged in,' how he 'hears' me, and so on.  But he really doesn't, and he really isn't, and it's a choice.  He hasn't taken 10 minutes to read anything or learn anything about what I'm going through.  In other words, he's oblivious, and it's by choice.  He puts absolutely no effort into any of this.

....and it leaves me exhausted.

I've been down this road before, where someone proclaims loudly that they're plugged in and present,  that they care, that they love me, etc.  I sat mostly in silence during that situation, at least until the pressure, confusion, and the hurt tapped the pendulum and set it swinging back and forth between wanting to believe that but seeing the results match with the words.  That situation was also full of chronic projection on the part of the other person, accusing me of the very thing he was doing.  Here, with T at least, he isn't doing that.  He at least isn't projecting what he does, doesn't do, says or doesn't say onto me.  THAT is a major improvement from what I experienced in the past, but it's still not enough.

If all you have is refraining from hurting someone, if all you bring to the table is your body, if all you offer is criticism and complaints and character assassination, then you need to excuse yourself from the table and leave that person in PEACE.  T does try at times, I'll give him that, and he rarely criticizes me.  When T does become critical he realizes he's being an ass and eventually apologizes.

Here is my world, my life as it is right now.  Decay from the past stinking up the place, and an indifferent person who can't recognize how damaging and cold his indifference is.  HE is not a cold person, though.

Yes, I'm defending T.  He at least can see some things when I point them out.  Now whether he remembers the experience and learns from it, well, that's an entirely different matter altogether.

Today I need a redirect.  Today I need to find my direction once again.  Today will be one more day that I "manage to get through" because of sheer willpower.  It's all I have to work with, and it's a little shaky.  But I have to use something.  DO something.

I don't know why the past haunts me to this day, but I'm guessing it's because there was never any closure as the person I fell in love with never existed.  If you've read my other blogs along the way you would understand what I mean by this.  I fell in love with a man behind a mask, and when the mask slipped and revealed his true nature.. it was too late.  You can't say goodbye to someone that never existed.

Still dealing.  Still wounded.  Still lost and confused.  Still me in here somewhere.

....Somewhere.

For those who've left comments here... THANK YOU!

So it seems comment notifications haven't been working in a VERY long time, so if you've left comments and I didn't reply please know it's because I didn't realize anyone had left any.  Blogger seems to have fixed this.. for now.

I appreciate everyone's feedback, more than I can find words to describe really.  I guess, with the exception of those I know 'in person,' or those who contact me via social networking or email, etc., I often wonder if I'm just shouting or whispering into the wind here.

It was my hope that sharing my own experiences would help others, or make people laugh, or think... well, then it's all well worth it, especially with regards to "This Free Spirit," which was created to help work my way to a healing place post-abuse and hoping to help others along the way know they're not alone.

So again, if you've left comments on any of the entries on any of the blogs and I haven't respond.. I will.  And hopefully Blogger's notification system re comments will continue to work!

Blessings and thanks to all of you...

PART II: Never Mind. Seriously. Just Never Mind.

First let me say this: I'm not demonizing T.  I do love T.  But you have to understand that his behavior is destructive, not only to the relationship, but to me as well.  I've tried to help him understand what his behavior does, how it affects US, and how it affects me.  I haven't pointed out that it affects him as well, because stating the obvious is never going to get the point across.  He has to come to THAT conclusion himself, to figure out for himself how things affect him, etc.  I can't do that, nor can I speak for him or his feelings.  I've asked, and he's shared very little.  His choice entirely.

So at this point, as mentioned in previous entries in my blogs, I have to now focus on myself, my health, and getting strong and healthy again.  My life depends on it, and I'm not willing to give up quality of life in order to make room for T's ego.

How did I get here, and does it make ME self-centered to make myself the center of my own world right now?

Giving so much that you lose yourself is unhealthy, and it WILL empty you at some point where you have nothing left to sustain yourself.  I've given, given, given, accepted, self-blamed, and a plethora of other unhappy endeavors, thoughts and considerations until I really was left feeling completely empty and unhappy.  My attempts to fulfill T's needs without replenishing myself was the worst possible thing I could have done.  But I chose to do it to make him happy.  Over the past couple of years this went on--my giving, giving in, ignoring my own needs and desires, putting all I am to the side in order to make sure HIS world was right.  Now I'm left of what's left of the person I used to be, and trust me when I say I've been here before... it's unhealthy and destructive.

The dialogue began to change when my health began to decline.  Over the course of many doctor visits, tests of every kind, a few diagnosis and procedures... I realized that the person who was sometimes next to me was not only clueless at what was happening to me or how I felt about it all, but it was a CHOICE he made each and every day.  He would spend so much free time on FaceBook, picking away at his phone and reposting memes and articles and so forth that didn't enrich his life, OR our life together.  I observed this over the past two years and wondered, at first, why he didn't spend that much time learning about what I was going through, the sometimes dangerous and necessary procedures I was having, WHY I was having them, and what it meant.  Eventually, I asked him why.  He really didn't have an answer, and to this day still doesn't have an answer.

I had an idea that I would be going through these life events WITH him.  I believed that maybe he possessed even the smallest curiosity about anything I've been and am going through.  I was wrong.  So wrong.

What was the turning point?  When did I recognize the indifference full-force?  That one's easy.  The day I had the fine needle aspirate for a large thyroid nodule found during an ultrasound of my carotid arteries.  When I was told I needed a biopsy I didn't know that I would be going to that appointment alone.  This wouldn't be the first time he did this...

Transjugular liver biopsy was the reality check: Liver biopsies are extremely risky, and doctors have to seriously weigh the benefits against the risk before deciding on this measure.  In my case, not only was a liver biopsy ordered, but I had to have it done via catheter via the jugular vein in my neck so they could assess portal pressures.  Even the radiologist sat down and explained how "Tricky and complicated" this procedure is, then asked me if I had anyone there with me, or if I wanted to call someone to come to the hospital to be there... and that he would wait for them if so.  That's how risky this procedure is.  Where was T?  He dropped me off at the hospital for the procedure and went to work.

He dropped me off for the procedure and went to work.

As I sat in the critical care area waiting for the radiologist to return I looked around at the other patients there, some of which were waiting for their procedures to be done, or was in recovery mode. ALL of them had family and/or friends with them.  I was the only one there by myself.  Even the nurses kept asking me if I had someone there with me.

When the radiologist returned I told him no one would be there and to just go ahead.  He asked me if I had someone to take me home afterwards, and I told him yes.  One word.  Just 'yes.'  It's all I could say.

I was a little sad as I was taken into the surgical suite where they would do the ultrasound-guided procedure.  It was a painful process because I can't take morphine (allergy).  I felt it all and was awake.  Groggy, but awake.  When it was over they took me to recovery.  I called T and told him I was in recovery, and he said to call him when they released me and to meet me where he would be picking me up.  An aide took me downstairs to wait when the time came.  T didn't even bother coming up to walk with me.

This is the part when things begin to shift, when you see that person for the first time, when you look at them and barely recognize who you're looking at.  You wonder who they are and why you're there with them.  That's what I went through.  I wondered who this guy was who was, for the most part, behaving as if he were just some neighbor or something who gave me a ride that day because I had no other way to get to/from the hospital.  Who the hell IS this person? ... that's what I still ask on nearly an every day basis now.

My life became about me when I realized 'me' is all I had.  AIH, the lung issues (COPD), the worsening heart valve problem, the struggle with pain and other unpleasantness that refuses to resolve and stay resolved, all of it is MY struggle.  My struggle to get well; my struggle to cope, find answers, find strength, to continue to make choices based on what's right for my health and life.  In this I discovered that I couldn't continue to put his needs, wants, demands, etc. ahead of my health any longer.  I did that once before in my life and paid dearly with my health.  I'm not willing to do it again because, this time, the stakes are much higher.

I reserve the right to protect my life now.  T made choices as I gave him everything, as I put my own health second, my happiness last, placed my entire well-being on hold.  He made choices that benefitted him and hurt me in the process.  And he continues to do so.  Yes, I've told him.  No, he's not really responded with anything other than to feel sorry for himself.  He refuses to take a step back and LOOK at what he's done, what he's not done, and how it's changed the way I see him, and how I see US.

Been here, done that before.  I know how this works, and I know how guys like him think.  The more he pities himself, the more he refuses to acknowledge what's happened, the further back progress is pushed.  Now there's no progress.  Things aren't better.  And, frankly, I'm just too damn sick to fix it all myself.  It's been tossed in my lap, this stuff, and I'm not up to carrying the load anymore.

So every time I speak and he says "What?"... every time I repeat myself, only to have him retain very little of what I say, each time I'm sitting right next to him and talk.. and he says "What?" or pretends he heard me but didn't... I distance myself from him even more.  It's about protecting myself now, protecting my health, my life.

I absolutely refuse to allow another guy to suck the life right out of me.

Now when he says 'What?' I have only one reply:  "Never mind.  Seriously.  Just never mind."  T's response?... nothing.

So be it.

A Comfortable Position

Realistic; it's the new optimistic.  I can't change the facts, but I can change what I accept, what I don't accept, and how I deal with said facts...

Now, we've all heard the phrase.. "I can't change anyone else, but I CAN change ME."  And yes, that's true. But what this phrase doesn't address is how OTHERS can also change us!  In fact, it's the words and behaviors of others that do the most damage, or the most good, and it's often done with little effort on your part as a 'receiver' because while you may be ignoring, making excuses for, or actively doing whatever it takes to protect yourself... those words and behaviors touch your subconscious.  And this often happens in the most insidious of ways.  If you're dealing with someone who is NOT concerned about your best interest, OR you're dealing with a narcissist, then you're going to be in BIG trouble, my friend.  VERY big trouble.

Will I ever really heal?

I can't give an exact timeline, if there actually IS one, but I can keep moving can't I?  Can't I just keep moving like what's wounded is more like a muscle than my entire soul?  Won't this make it better in time, all this moving, shifting, changing?  While I can't answer the questions myself, the fact that I'm asking them means I'm still heading towards healing.  At least that's the way "I" see it.

Does this moving involve pushing down what I know is damage done, or does it mean I simply find a way to navigate around it through the course of my everyday life?  Now this is something I may or may not be able to figure out over time, but my thinking at the moment is that, at least for now, moving definitely means navigating around the damage I know is there, what is hurting.  All this shifting about to find a comfortable 'position' within myself only works for a short time, not much unlike when you've been sitting too long.  It does help for a little while.

Why not sugar-coat what is, put on the rose-colored glasses, numb the pain, the truth... just numb it all?  Because that's just one more tiresome temporary solution.  What I need is a final, definitive cure to the deep wounds within.  Isn't that what anyone wants when they come out of a dark situation?  Of course.  Why not?  We can long for, desire, and obtain (eventually) that which we deserve---freedom from pain and a gain of our self, whole, and undamaged as possible.

The side effects of being with a narcissist are far-reaching, undeniable, and long lasting.  Even out of the relationship they plague everything, poison the good, and pinch the wounds that refuse to heal.  They linger in the very air we breathe at times, even when we're not aware of it.  At least that's how it is with me.  Then suddenly they come crashing through again, ultimately pushing me back to square one for a time.  It's always there.  We don't forget.  "I" don't forget.  I can't forget.  The scars are a part of me now.

I still deal with it because I have to.  Or rather... I don't really DEAL with those side effects; it's more like I ENDURE them.  I mean, isn't that what most of us do until we, well, don't?

post-heart cath procedure, and the power of Xanax

All's well with the plumbing.  Electrical was address last year.  As far as other functionality, I still need to address the diastolic dysfunction, and of course... keep an eye on the MVP w/regurgitation, the valve issues, etc.  Just a watch and wait thing. :)

As an aside, I discovered something interesting yesterday that somewhat surprised me.  Xanax rocks.  rofl.  Never had the stuff before, but they give you one w/Benedryl as pre-meds prior to the cath procedure.  That didn't happen the first time I had a cath, so... I had no idea what the big deal was about people liking Xanax.  Basically, for anyone who doesn't know, it breaks your give-a-shitter.  lol ;p  Just useless information I find funny.  I'm actually quite glad they gave me that, because half of the meds they use for conscious sedation is morphine---which I'm allergic to.  And, just like the transjugular liver biopsy I had last week... I was awake!  Ugh.  And DAMN did that lidocaine hurt like a mofo when it was injected in the area surrounding my femoral artery!  GEEZ.  Not a fan of that, btw.

Just saying.

The one drawback, which didn't really surprise me, was T asking if he had to stay there (in the hospital) while I was having the procedure.  *sigh*  smh

Spilling Over

I guess I should remind some of you who may not know, that if something is bothering me particularly.. I will most likely post it in all of my blogs.  The spillover from one to the next is just something that's going to happen.  Most of the time I aim to separate what I'm talking about between each one so that the meaning isn't really lost in context.  Make sense?

My blogs overlap, though they're meant to be focused in one aspect of my life or another...

Boo's Juicy Bits:  The main aim here is health, diet, eating, all the things that support and give us a foundation for a good (or bad) life.  There's so much to this part of health, so there will be at times an overlap as to what's going on the pages.  If life is getting in the way, or helping me on my way, the details will most likely end up there as well.  And don't be surprised if you find sexually-focused chatter on there as well.   The information is all connected in one form or fashion anyway.

Where Fireflies Dream:  Created as a place for whimsical thought and ideas to play, an expression of who I am, how I dream, what I want, and the things that can or do hold me back from my greatest expression of self within my life as it is at any given point.  Again, be aware that at times topics of a sexual nature will most likely appear in posts.  Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)

This Free Spirit:  The newest blog and one I feel is necessary, even critical for me.  It's a place to talk about abuse.  Been there, done that, and still haven't gotten 100% past the damage, to say the least.  My goal with this is sharing in hopes it will help others, but also to have a place to talk/deal with the lasting effects of my experiences.  This one will often have chatter of a sexual nature as well.

All Things Ephemeral:  Originally, this one was created to let it all hang out, a no holds barred kind of place to talk about EVERYTHING in great, bloody detail.  The nature of doing this means that, in the past, I would often delete posts after a day or two, a week, a month, whatever... because it was a bit much to leave just sitting there for the whole world to see.  However, this is changing.

I will be taking that no holds barred approach with posting there soon, as it's one of the greatest barriers I need to cross in order to heal.  Like Pavlov's Dogs I learned through experience that expressing myself openly meant I would pay a price, a high one at that.  But since this is no longer the case I plan on resuming, for personal growth and healing, my once bold approach to using this blog exactly as I intended---a place for me to be free to express myself in any way I see fit!

Onward...!

Still fighting to find my bearings in it all

Something isn't right.  "Something" hasn't felt right for a few years now, maybe since about 2012, maybe 2011.  When things break, the pieces often remain, cutting their way through the soft fabric of life.  I guess I'm realizing I was more malleable than first thought, and the strong, restraining hands of  someone I loved reshaped parts of me that I actually liked.  Not to say I'm not still in here--because I absolutely am.  Such is the part of me that fights like hell to keep me safe, protected from all the hurtful, jagged edges of what's left.  Because.. the parts of me that didn't mold to the whims and needs and demands of that person...shattered.  Where am I?

The barriers I've built around me have protected me in some ways, and they've also crushed me in others; Vulnerability is no longer something I give into.  Instead, I strive to be the strongest I've ever been, though it's not a comfortable posture for me.  So what of the discomfort, then?  It is what it is and it will remain because of my will.  It is MY will that allows or disallows what happens to me as a person, a woman, a friend, a lover, a mom... every facet that makes me who I am is ultimately at the mercy of MY will and no other but God's.  His will is ultimate, but my will is His gift to me.  And no, I'm not going off on a religious tangent.  I'm simply taking responsibility for the damage I allowed others to do to me, and also for my inability to completely regain control of the clanging thought-machine inside me that clatters on and on.

It's just one of those days sitting in the midst of one of those weeks in what I now call one of those lives...

I'm dealing with illness because of the unrest and DIS-ease I've felt for so long, with the majority of it beginning when I blindly walked into a situation I didn't want to recognize for what it actually was.  I fell headlong right into the abyss and hit bottom.  Dammit, but I should have had my own back.  I have a good understanding of this NOW and am being diligent, watchful.  And yet, contemplating what my life is now in the wake of the experiences isn't exactly pretty.  Not at all.

Nothing is improving.  My health continues to worsen, and all the tests I've gone through over the past few weeks, all of the tests I'm going through THIS week will tell me where I am in all of this.  While it may not be the best course of action on my part I will wait for the doctors to render their final diagnosis and allow them to push me in the direction I need to go.  I'm so bogged down in near-defeat that I can't seem to propel myself in the right direction.

I will let the current take me.

The Lion is Most Handsome When Looking for Food : Narcissistic Supply and Love-Bombing, the beginning of the end

"Your amazing.  You have such talent.  You're so sexy, so beautiful.  You're a great lover.  You're loving, kind, gentle..."  Narcissists are masters of the illusions of charm, kindness.

Love-Bombing is where the narcissist lays the foundation for you to fall in love with him/her.  But beware---it's a carefully constructed trap in which you will ultimately fall into if you're not very careful.  The narcissist in your life knows where the gaps are in who you are, all the wounds of past and present that leave you vulnerable to them.  They know where they are and what they are, and they WILL use it against you.

We don't fall in love with people who are outwardly hateful, meaning, dehumanizing, or cruel.  If we're empathic, sensitive, we're at risk of making excuses for people who are absolutely all those things.  It's in our very nature to love unconditionally, to forgive fully, to want to nurture and care for someone we love when they're wounded.  But narcissists have an M.O., and one that is about as covert as it gets... in the beginning.  As time passes and the mask begins to slip we see them for who they really are who've they've been since the very beginning.  We miss those tell-tale signs that would have saved us profound grief--if only we had seen them.

Love-Bombing is a term that's used to describe the outpouring of so-called love from the narcissist towards his/her victim in order to draw in, acquire, and emotionally anchor their victim to themselves.  They look and sound like a hero, the person who will love you like no other, and they may even tell you so.  The shower you with love and attention, call you often, send text messages that are sheer poetry.  This is NOT to be confused with "Normal" courting in a relationship, which has a modicum of constraint and ease of pace as the relationship matures and grows.  Love-Bombing is, in fact, like a fast-track with ONE single goal; To get the narcissist to his/her "supply" as quickly as possible.

As for my experience, I was enamored very early on as I found myself in awe of this seemingly kind person who was funny, caring, attentive, charming, and liked by so many.  I mean, how can a person be terrible if they have so many friends?  Wouldn't those people simply exit stage-left if they were subjected to mean, cruel, and hateful behavior?  Well, not so much with a narcissist, because you have to look at how deep and meaningful those relationships are.  When you do look closer at this person's 'harem' of friends, ex's, admirers, you find that the relationships aren't close at all but very superficial.  They don't 'hang out' with these people, don't have any deep, close or meaningful interactions with them, and they may only be 'friends' found through social media.

In the beginning there were kind words, attentiveness, outward gestures of what appeared to be love, kindness, and even respect.  I fell for this time and time again, and probably because of my own wounds from childhood where emotional abandonment, stonewalling, and the use of guilt and shame as punishment from my mother (my dad wasn't around my entire life).  I don't accept blame for what my narcissist did to me, but I do accept having responsibility in it continuing.

The Love-Bombing phase actually didn't last that long for me, and as I look back at the beginning I see that it really began to fade after about 8 weeks.  I was so sucked in by then that I could no longer see anything clearly.   This is one reason why relationships should progress slowly, allowed to mature and grow at a gradual pace.  You can't cram a lifetime into a few weeks, meaning... you can't get to know each other fully in that amount of time.

As the Love-Bombing subsided I found myself being the 'chosen' one to carry the relationship.  During the few short years I was with my narcissist the burden of carrying the entire relationship fell solely on my shoulders, no matter what... I was responsible for everything that DID and DID NOT happen.  It was taxing to both my emotional and physical health, which began to disintegrate long before the relationship did.

Before long, holidays, birthdays, special events, etc. were not something my narcissist wanted to share with me...and of course, true to his narcissistic nature---it was all my fault.  In fact, from the very first holiday we spent together...he made certain to turn the event into a complete nightmare filled with cruelty, hurt, and blame.  And this should really have been a huge red flag for me.  Instead, true to MY nature of being empathic and sensitive, my first knee-jerk reaction was to wonder what "I" had done wrong and what "I" could do to make it better, to fix things.  THIS was the first "feeding" for the narcissist I'd let into my life, and it wouldn't be the last.  He had found a willing victim and was the only one of the two of us who was aware of that fact.

I would come to know my role in things later one, once the relationship ties were severed completely.

This first crucial step (Love-Bombing) appears benign, uplifting, and wonderful on so many levels.  In a normal, well-adjusted relationship these overtures are great and hold real meaning.  But they're also paced, unhurried, and timely... and never are those efforts used against you.  When Love-Bombing happens, the narcissist in your life will keep a running tally of all the 'good things' they've done for you, and keeping score has only one purpose---to use them against you later when you begin to question their obviously abnormal behaviors.

Gas Lighting, which I will discuss in another entry, happens when you begin to become aware of your narcissist's abnormal and abusive behaviors.  He/she will begin one of the most covert attacks on your self-esteem, and your MIND, when you begin to call them out on what they're doing, when you dare  to share your feelings with them about how hurtful their words and behavior are.  Gas Lighting is when the narcissists begins to tell you you're "crazy," when they do things deliberately to confuse you, when they set out to literally make you second guess EVERYTHING.  Few recognize this for what it is when it first begins to happen, and most only discover what's happening in the 'Discard' phase, when the narcissist has emptied you and is now looking for another 'supply.'

There really isn't an easy or quick way to explain the above, and there is still so much I haven't said.  Over time I will reveal more in hopes of helping even ONE person recognize what they're dealing with so they can get the hell out of their toxic relationship before it does too much damage.

I've begun with the beginning, but I will be revisiting Love-Bombing, Gas Lighting, etc. as I go.

In the meantime, if you're dealing with a narcissist, beware of circular logic, as many times this is all he/she is armed with.  The truly damaging ammunition a narcissist has against you are the gaps in your self, in who you are, and these gaps (as mentioned before) are the wounds of your past and their effects.  This is really the only way a narcissist gets in and takes control.  Know your wounds and heal them, and if you're with a narcissist now get help, find a therapist who can help you identify what's making you vulnerable and assist you in completely severing ties with that person in your life.

More to come...

PART 1: I wasn't supposed to be... awake.

But I was... the entire time during the procedure.  It's not exactly the nightmare they make movies and write books about, but it more than surprised me, and it most DEFINITELY surprised the radiologist performing the procedure.  Really.  I was supposed to be asleep.

I arrived at the hospital yesterday morning to have a liver biopsy done.  I'd already researched enough to know what to expect, talked to people in the forum I belonged to to hear their experiences.  I wasn't expecting to be this surprised.  Oh, but I was.. and in more ways than one.

When the radiologist came in with another doctor to talk to me about the procedure, what to expect, how it will work, etc., he mentioned HOW they were going to access my liver.  Now, this is where the first surprise came in...

He began telling me that Dr. S wants things done a particular way and that the procedure I'm having is "tricky" because it involves entering the jugular vein and inserting a wire that will be able to reach the portal vein in the liver in order to check the pressure there.  He began telling me the risks to the heart and lung and liver.  I listened, but I was confused because I thought I was to be there for just the biopsy and didn't know anything at all about checking the portal pressure.  Skipping ahead...

We talked a little about the procedure, and the radiologist reassured me that Dr. S was very specific about what he wanted done.  I asked if anything bad had ever happened during the procedure with anyone he's done it on and he said that the only thing that has happened in his (long) career was one patient's heart went out of rhythm and wouldn't go back in, so they had to stop the procedure, send him to the cath lab to shock his heart back into normal sinus rhythm.  Ok.  Only one event.  So I said..  "Ok.  Let's do this."

The Dr. assisting the radiologist explained about the two medication that I'd be given, that I wouldn't be put completely under but would be unaware of what's going on and wouldn't feel anything, except perhaps the lidocaine they would use on my neck where they would make the tiny incision to access the jugular.  He said I would just 'sleep' through the procedure and would not have any recollection of it at all once it's done and I'm awake.  I was familiar with this because I'd had a heart cath in 2013, and ablations on my heart in 2014... so that twilight sleep I know about and have experienced.

...Off to the OR we went.

Once on the table the anesthesiologist told me she was giving me the first dose of sedation, and that it would be done in stages until they're ready to begin the procedure, then she added "The lidocaine may bring you out of this for a moment because it stings, but it will be brief."  By the time they were ready to begin I was loopy as hell, but I was awake.  One last dose was given, because I was awake... and I think I nodded off for a minute or two.  Then I was awake again.

Awake, aware of my surroundings enough to hold a conversation.

I heard the radiologist say he was administering the lidocaine.  Oh yeah---I definitely felt that.  But it quickly receded and I felt nothing in that area.

I felt the cath wedge go into my jugular, and I continued to feel it go down my chest, felt something strange with my right lung, felt it proceed past my heart--to which my heart fluttered a little--and then nothing... for now.

I heard every word said, heard the radiologist talking to the doctor that was there, even remember hearing him calling out the numbers once he began reading the wedged pressure and free-flowing pressure.  I remember the numbers exactly.

A couple of times the anesthesiologist raised the blue drape over my face to look at me, and I returned with a smile.  Then... they changed Caths and went back in to take the biopsy samples...

The first "snap!" I heard had only a little discomfort with it.  The second "Snap" was a bit more painful and I said.. "Oh, that one smarts!"  This was the first time the radiologist knew I was awake.

"How much did you give her?" I heard him ask the anesthesiologist.  "She's awake."  She responded with the dosage she'd given me, and he said.. "Wow.  I would be on a vent if I'd had that much."  He has a smile in his voice, so I know he was just joking a bit. Plus I was familiar with this radiologist as he'd done the biopsy on my thyroid nodule a year ago.  He's good guy, a really skilled radiologist.

So the third "Snap" I heard came with significant cramping across the entire front of my ribcage, where the liver is.  And oh yeah.. THAT one definitely hurt.  And folks, I have a high pain tolerance for stuff like this, having kids, etc.  So when I say it hurt.. I mean it.

Once they were finished they removed the blue drape and one of the nurses told me she was applying pressure to the little hole where they'd entered the jugular.  She told me there may be a bit of a bruise there and that she was sorry if the pressure she was applying hurt.  It really wasn't that bad, and I told her so.

As I lay there with pressure being applied to my neck the anesthesiologist came over and apologized that I felt pain and explained she wasn't sure why I remained awake.  I assured her that it was okay and that the pain I did feel didn't last a long time, that I was okay.  They returned me to recovery.

I told my nurse there what happened, and she looked at me as if I'd grown a third eye. lol  The other nurses turned around (my bed was right next to the little desk where all the nurses sat) and gave me a look of horror. haha   Hey, no events... so to me this was a good procedure.

I'll have the results in a few days, I think.  But I don't believe I have portal hypertension at all.  I believe Dr. S just wanted to make sure due to some of the symptoms I was having.  As for the presence of any cirrhosis... I don't believe that's the case either, or Dr. S would've seen the prominent veins in my esophagus etc. when he did the EGD a couple of months ago.  What I DO expect is to see  if NASH is actually present and to what extent, and if there is any fibrosis or not.  I fully expect the outcome to be okay, with perhaps  NAFLD or maybe NASH if inflammation is present.

Dust Hymn: As I indulge in the healing power of music...

It's healing in progress, taking an active role in the healing process, feeding the soul.  As I listen, I am taken somewhere else entirely.  This is my life, my dream, and I decide where I am...