Walking Barefoot in Snow

    I don’t know how many years it’s been since you passed. I don’t acknowledge your birthday, or death day because I can’t remember the dates.   I haven’t been to your grave since your funeral.   I might even have a hard time finding your grave.   I know I would.   But, I miss you. I think about you. I laugh about memories that come up, and so many have been coming up.   I compare men I meet to you.   I wonder if you would approve, or silently disapprove as you were so good at doing.   Would you be proud of me now? Or still waiting for me to “get serious”?     You never told me you didn’t approve, your silence would be the message.   I knew I was in deep shit when you didn’t respond to me, acted like you didn’t see or hear me.   That worked better than any yelling ever could have.   It cut deeper.   Or you would tell my mother, “Kathy, blah blah blah” and then she would come at me with her s...

I'm reading a new book called "Power: surviving and thriving after narcissistic abuse" by Shahida Arabi.  I thought it looked interesting, and I've had it suggested to me by several people that one of my ex's is a Narcissist.  So i picked it up, thinking i'd take a quick look. First chapter i can't help but take out a pencil and begin underlining what is reaching out and smacking me in the face - You rationalize it, and minimize it, hoping it was just an off-color comment or misunderstanding (no one is ever going to mistake you for a model) New people, as well as new forms of torment, begin to show up; he introduces them into the sacred space of your relationship.  He ignores you while he extols them; he demeans you while he praises them .  (Oh, I've been friends with her for years.  She's just a friend.  You over react.  You have me on a short leash.  Why can't you be more like her?) You become needy for approval, for any scrap of kin...

  My daughter told me I can be really mean.   I’ve learned to filter my “honesty” into gentler words, or better, simple silence.   Years and experience have taught me silence can’t come back and embarrass you at a later date.   Anger has a way of unlocking the ugliness and it comes out BIG and unforgiving.     Anger is also a waste of time at this point in my life.   It serves no purpose.   So, when it hits me and becomes unreasonable, I talk out loud to myself.   Crazy?   Not the talking, but probably most definitely the content.   Then it works itself into sense as it circles down and the sides become smoother……...it’s almost always the same things that bring me to anger.   I’ve had practice.   I know how this goes now.   Without knowing, I’m going to say that this is part of being an introvert.   When I try and “work it out” with another person while this anger is in my throat all I do is es...