So once again, I had to wait for my husband to come back with our daughter from his parents’ this past Saturday. And once again, he was late. And once again, he tried to gaslight me. It’s getting old.
I was going to publish a post about fear and then I changed my mind. I may talk about fear sometime in the future. However, two things happened today that made me change my mind. One of them is the topic for this post. The other one, the sermon at Mass. But let’s get to it, shall we?
Before I dive into what I’m going to say to you, just note that the ‘Dear’ opening this letter is merely a formality resulting from the way the English language works. So take that lightly. With that out of the way, let’s get to business.
Another excellent article by Shahida Arabi. I hope you find it validating and informative, same way I did. Here’s the direct link: http://thoughtcatalog.com/shahida-arabi/2017/06/5-powerful-reality-checks-for-survivors-of-narcissistic-abuse/
Today at Mass, during the prayers, one was offered for families and marriages who are struggling. When I heard that, I felt this warm feeling in my heart, something I needed a lot today. Unfortunately, that was not the end of that particular intention. The lady went on to add ‘so there can be reconciliation and they can become a stronger family‘ and I don’t know what else she said because I stopped listening at those words.
How many times do we get to see the Stanley Cup during the hockey season? Not much really. They bring it out for special occasions and nearing the end of the season. That’s pretty much it. And for the finals. When a team is finally crowned the champion, then Stanley gets to be paraded all over the court and then the team’s hometown. Then Stanley goes into hibernation until it’s time to take her out again. Well, that’s pretty much what happens to my daughter when it comes to her father. I could have as well named her Stanley, just like the NHL cup.
Not long ago, my attorney said to me, “Stop apologizing for nothing.” She caught me by surprised. Seeing that, she added, “He had you so squished under his control that you tend to apologize for almost anything you’re about to say or do and there’s no need for that, most especially with me.”
What can be the farthest as possible from a gray rock than red molting lava? At least that’s how I call it for when I lose it. It hasn’t happened in a while, thanks to the accountability the Days Counter app gives me on a daily basis. (I keep an entry there for staying gray rock and another one for the last time I blew up on my husband.) But it almost happened yesterday evening.
Here’s an interesting article about narcissistic groups: