Hi, It's been five days since my last confession

I am still pondering on the thought of once a co-dependent, always a co-dependent. I have been thinking of the Addiction Anonymous organizations. I have actually attended a few sessions here and there for different ones but was never ever able to feel like that was for me.

I remember as a child going through catechism school and how they taught us about confession. That's where I came up with this title - memories of confessing my many sins to this man in a box. I really thought that I was an awful sinner back then. Boy was I naive. I had no clue about life. But again, I didn't feel that this was what was my direction. I remember the sister/teacher telling me that I had to pray to my patron saint. She said that Saint Nicholas was my patron saint because that was the saint of children. I just couldn't figure out why I had to pray to a saint that would then go to the other of Jesus to talk about my requests. Mary would then talk to Jesus about my problems and Jesus would finally take my request to the Father who would then make a decision and let Jesus know to tell Mary to tell my patron saint to tell me the answer of my petition. I really thought that was a lot of extra work and decided to skip the middle man and go straight to the man in charge. It seemed to make sense to this little seven year old girl. I thought if I wanted something from my dad, I would ask my dad. If I wanted something from my Nana, I would ask her. Why not talk to the Creator of the world.

To this day, I feel that I have a direct line to God; although for many years through my own history, I feel that it has wavered. My love for God did not waiver, but my belief that we can petition Him directly instead of going through the chain of command.

I understand the chain of command and at work I will talk to my direct supervisor before I go above his head. If I have a problem with someone, I will go to them first before the supervisor. But I think where God is concerned, He is our direct link.

The blessings of co-dependency

I know it has been a long time since my last entry. My life has changed so much and it has changed me. I see things with a different perspective and I suppose when you start to look at your mortality, that is going to happen. I  have started looking at what I am leaving behind.

My first husband passed away and when cleaning up and going through his things, I started thinking the thought that is this all that life sums up to be. What is left behind?

I like my new position. It makes me feel like I am doing something that is worthwhile.

I thought I have broken the co-dependent cycle but I was talking to one of my coworkers about the recent empty nest I am experiencing. This co-worker and I have never talked about co-dependency and she knows very little about my life. I made the comment about how strange it was to not have my kids around. My house is so quiet now and there is not as much to do. I have always had a lot to do, sometimes overwhelming. It was then that she made that comment that I sounded like a co-dependent person, that I always needed something to take care of and nurture.

At that moment I realized that being a co-dependent was not something that you just 'get over'. I had thought that I had broken the cycle. And to some degree, maybe I have. I had left my first husband and moved in a different direction. But I started to wonder if I was really free of co-dependency. I may have left and moved on, but truly, my personality was still the same. I was still taking care of my son, actually doting on him the attention that I use to give all the kids. He wanted for nothing.

My personality is one of a nurturer. I will forever what to take care of someone or something. I think I need to embrace that idea and learn to use it for the better things. I don't think it is bad to be a co-dependent, just like ADHD is not a handicap.  I need to find the blessings of being co-dependent.

There is no Can't unless you choose it

Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.

I have read that this was in reference of a wife that was not faithful to her husband.

But could there be another hidden meaning:
Peter had a wife that he did not want to assert herself.

Do we know someone that will not assert their own thoughts to the people that are closest to them? For so many years, there are so many people that give in to someone because of so many reasons: they don't want to make waves, they feel that they are doing the right thing, they have lived a life of not being able to assert themselves due to their home life, and this list goes on. 

Now is the time for all to embrace their inner beliefs and not just sit back and let someone run over them. I am not saying that we need to just run over the feelings of others, but we do need to stop believing that we can't do it, just because someone has told us that we can't. There is no can't unless you allow it.

His blade cuts deep

The blade felt cold in my hand as I held it, fidgeting with it as he railed on the errors of my ways. How could I be so stupid? He pointed out the problems with my logic and reminded me of how lucky I was to have someone who would put up with my fumbles in life. "You are not that stupid and yet you act so stupid." I didn't get the meaning. I didn't think I was stupid. I had just graduated at the top of my class. I got scholarships to pay for it so it didn't have to come out of the family budget. I continued to work and bring money into the household through what ever side job I could get. I managed our business and worked around the clock. I taught our children at home and they have become highly intelligent, hard working individuals who were resourceful and studious. If I was so stupid, then how did I pull off the things I did.

He continued to go on in correcting me in the error of my thinking. I fidgeted with the blade as he continued his speech. It was verbatim almost to the number of minutes paused after each point to allow his reprimand to hit home. The blade was shiny and my glance often followed the reflection of light on the walls of the bedroom. It was no longer cold as it had been in my hands for some time now as he continued his battery of words.

I no longer heard a word he was saying. I didn't even feel anything at all. I was aware of what was going on around me but it didn't even phase me anymore. He slapped me but really, I didn't feel that. I was aware of his hand as it touched my face, but there was no feeling in my face. Was I dreaming? Was I just lost in my thoughts of memory? That I could not tell.

I continued to fidget with the knife as he continued. I did not smell his breath when he got in my face or feel the spit from his mouth as it rolled down my face. He pointed out the hole in the bathroom wall and asked me why did I do that? I must have looked puzzled because before I could open my mouth to say that I did not put the hole in the wall, he shouted at me that my mouth was what caused it. If I could ever learn to keep my mouth shut when being reprimanded then, he continued, we would not have so many holes in the walls. I did know that there was nothing that I could do or say to prove my innocence in any of these situations. Even the kids would tell me later, after he had left for us to contemplate the evil of our ways and correct our misgiving, 'Mom, you know just to keep your mouth shut. It won't make a difference.'

Today was not much different than any other day other than I felt absolutely nothing. His words, the names, even his hands could not be felt. I looked at the knife and began to wonder if there was anything at all that I could feel. The blade when placed against the skin of my arm was not cold or warm. I did not feel it either. He continued with his anger and directed another question towards me. I did not hear it at first so he repeated it. "I don't know how to deal with you except for my anger. You give me no choice. You have tied my hands. Anger is all that I have left to try to fix you. Do you understand how bad that makes me feel? Why do you want to make me feel like such a bad person?" Again, I was not sure that I understood him. I was not pushing him to yell and scream and punch the walls. I had thought that maybe if I was a better person that he would never have to get angry, but that can never be since I never know what is going to make him upset. If I bring him a cup of coffee to the bedroom, he will criticize that I should have left it in the living room. If I leave it by his chair in the living room, he will ask why I didn't bring it to him in the bathroom. There was never a way to please.

I took the blade and ran its point from the inside of my wrist to the bend of my elbow. It was not very hard and only left a faint red line trailed along the path. I looked at the red line, noticing its smoothness for the entire length. He continued his rant.

Still not listening to his words or feeling his anger, I took the blade again and traced the first line. I still did not feel the smoothness of the blade as I followed the previous red line. It did not hurt either and I thought that was very strange. If I did not feel the pain then this must have been a dream. I will eventually wake up from this crazy dream.

The second cut was not as smooth as the first. There were areas that a slight bit of blood was beginning to form on the surface. I was staring at the beads of blood on my arm and wiped at them expecting to see them wipe away. I touched my arm with the back of my hand and felt the blood. It smeared. I looked at it and didn't really understand what I was seeing. He had not noticed my preoccupation with my arm and I knew that he would address the issue of me not giving him my undivided attention while he corrected my bad behavior.

At some point he did finally notice that I had run the blade across my arm and snapped at me, "What do you think you are doing?" He used more colorful words through this entire dialog that I didn't feel necessary to write on the pages. He took my arm in his hand and looked at the bleeding line. By this time, there had been one more cut, much deeper, along the line of the previous two cuts. The blood was beginning to flow, but as before, I did not feel it and kept looking at it as if it were someone else. I looked into his eyes as he again said how stupid I was to do this to my arm. What would people think of him if they saw the wound. It is going to take a while to heal and we had a conference to attend to and now that I had cut this long gash in my arm, how would I explain it.

He threw my arm down and at me. "You are so stupid. If you're going to kill yourself, then please do it in a manner that is less obvious. You embarrass me.

I had no intentions of hurting myself. I wasn't thinking that I was going to die. I just was so numb that I just wanted to know if I could feel anything at all. If I couldn't feel anything, as it seemed was the case here, then this must be a very bad dream and that, by cutting my arm, should wake me. I wanted to wake up and no longer be in this nightmare.

Tami McConnell is spot on

In my experience (having been married to one for almost 15 years)…this is what I know. Any victim like myself who has spent a great deal of time in this kind of marriage finds themselves to where we are EXPECTED to read their mind and act accordingly to what THEY would want us to do… which is whatever they (in all their perfection) would do. To survive, you get very good at it and learn to predict their thoughts, reactions, and triggers alike. So you find you spend a great deal of time inside their head…to avoid their wrath, you have learn to think like THEY do.

Many people assume from the name “narcissist” that these people are in love with themselves, arrogant, etc. In reality, a narcissist loves noone BECAUSE they actually have a very deep inner loathing of themselves. I know that sounds contradictory compared to their outward behavior ..and in many ways narcissists are nothing if NOT a mass of contradiction. They loathe happiness (in all of its forms) especially in others, because they themselves are never truly happy. They at some point learned to despise all they don't or cannot have. (When the deep envy of a narcissist turns ugly, and it always does, it's always in the form of disgust, hatred, and loathing of whatever it is). No amount of admiration, praise, attention, etc makes them “happy” in anything other than an instantaneous way, and then it's gone just as quickly. This drives their rage…always chasing what always seems to elude them. Nothing is ever enough, good enough, or “right”. Perfection or utter failure, there is no in between.. No amount of material possessions, money, sex, etc ever satisfies them.

The malignant narcissist is sadistic. They consciously enjoy putting people in pain and this will manifest in various ways…they will try to destroy other people's relationships as cruelly as they do their own…they will be sexually sadistic, they will be intentionally cruel at every opportunity that presents itself, or even fabricate a reason to do so if needed…their love and need for constant drama will allow them to fabricate such events and justify it through the “gossip mill” that swirls around them at all times. They can be paranoid and delusional, always on guard for any hint of a possible “threat” (real or imagined). If the threat they perceive fails to manifest even in the teensiest of ways, they will push the situation to create a reaction that will “validate” that the threat is real and retribution, revenge, and punishmrnt are all “in order”. This can make them extremely volatile and even violent and utterly destructive to themselves and everyone close to them.

The dual mirror is extremely obvious with a malignant narcissist. Not only do they want to reflect all of your good qualities to everyone else, they want you to be a true reflection of all they see and view in themselves…which in a word, is PAIN. They need to blame someone for all of this hatred and anger and rage and loathing they feel…by turning you into a mirror of all that is inside of them (the actual cause of their pain is themselves)…it justifies their ruthless devaluation, torture, and brutal discard thinking “now, the problem is gone because YOU are the cause of all of this”. But it isn't, and so the cycle repeats with someone else.

These things are very difficult to describe in words. But in all honesty, I'd rather try to describe it, than you to ever have to experience it.

Tami McConnell on Quora

Crushed Heart of another survivor

I told him yesterday that I wanted a divorce. That was not the first time I told him. It was just that this time I was asking him if he would sign in agreement. We had a long emotional conversation in which I learned of his intense hatred towards me/for me because I did not want to have any more children after Noleen and that I went and got the IUD on my own. I cannot remember all of the details of that period of time, I just remember the deep hurt when he expressed his disappointment when we found out I was having a girl instead of a boy. That cut to the quick as did many other things.

It all makes sense now, his feelings towards me, the anger, the resentment, his feelings of powerlessness with me. I never intended on him feeling that way, I was trying to protect my own self too much of the time. It has been an ugly cycle of hurt and rejection and misunderstanding from the beginning and now the damage is done.

I now know that my feelings that he did not love me were dead on. He did not find me attractive or anything because of how he felt towards me. I am not angry, I am relived and hurt and wounded and ready to move on to healing all at the same time. To stay with him, even if I were to have his boy, would cause greater resentments and hurt in me, feeling that I had been used for another purpose other than he just loved me because I am me. I never had that with him. To just be loved. It was and still is, if I do this I can earn his love, if I do these specific things and make him happy, he will feel aroused for me. I am okay with being out of this very unhealthy and emotionally damaging relationship.

I have the day off and I am going to research how to get my divorce petition written up. If I had the money I would pay the lawyer and go from there. I do not have the whole $750 plus $500 for filing fees. I need for God to provide.

Narcissus, The man, the myth, the legend

There once was a deity in Greek mythology who was a very handsome hunter. His beauty was known and appreciated by many.

His father was known as Cephissus, a God of the river. He was strong and bold as the Boeotia river that flows through Attica in Central Greece. He was considered brave and strong just like the ravenous river that he was god of his reign.

Cephissus' parents, Pontus, a sea god of the Black Sea, and Thalassa, also known as Nepture and a sea goddess in her own right were known by many in their time. As typical of many children that are born of over bearing gods that have given too much privilege to their offspring without responsibility or accountability, this god was just as spoiled. He was cared for to the extent that he could no longer see the needs of others and desired to feed his own needs exclusively. This river god, Cephissus, believed that he could have anything his heart, or flesh, desired.

There was a daughter of a lesser known river god that took Cephissus' breath away. He thought of this beautiful flower often and was consumed by his need to have her. He looked upon her beauty until he could no longer suppress the strength of his needs and so he took Liriope who was so beautiful to behold. Her name meant Face of the Narcissus, and she was as beautiful as the lilys that bloom.

Time passed and this beautiful flower delivered a beautiful baby boy. This boy grew to be more handsome and strong. He was proud of his looks and his strength. So proud that he began to disdain those around him that loved him. He deserved so much more than their adoration.

There was a woman named Echo who fell deeply in love with Narcissus. His looks were beyond anything she had ever seen ever. She followed him as she could not take her eyes off of him. He sensed her following him and called out to her. Eventually Echo revealed herself to him and told him how he was the most handsome man she had ever seen and she attempted to embrace him. Narcissus would have no part of it and pulled away from her. He chastised her and broke her heart as there was no other that she could love as she does him. She lived the rest of her life in loneliness and misery, pining away for his affection.

Narcissus was sought after by male suitors as well. This particular young man was discarded like so many before him. This time, Narcissus gave him a sword in which the young man used to kill himself on the doorstep. He prayed to the gods to teach Narcissus a lesson for all the pain that he had caused to many.

Nemesis was a vicious goddess of revenge and she learned of the pain that Narcissus was causing people with his beauty. She decided that he needed to be taught a lesson and punished for the pain he inflicted on so many. She lured him by a pond that was as clear as a mirror, reflecting his image back at him. He noticed that reflection and immediately fell in love with his own reflection. He starred at himself for a long time and upon realizing that this love that he felt for his own image could never be reciprocated in return, Narcissus decided to take his own life for he could not see how he could exist.

It is this end that was foretold by Teiresias to his parents when they desired to know of his future. He told them that Narcissus would only grow old provided that 'he did not get to know himself'. According to legend, Narcissus is still admiring himself in the underworld where he can long for the attention of his reflection but never receive the love and admiration of that reflection.






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