I Bet You Think This Blog Is About You, Don't You?

Truth be told, happiness seems like a far away dream or legend you hear about during late night drunks around a campfire, but I'm told it's something that exists and that I will experience once again someday. I think I have glimpses of it on days when the Boy and the Girl crawl into my big squishy bed and we read Harry Potter for hours while snuggling. Other than this, the moments in which I'd thought myself to be happy were simply lies I told myself to keep myself complacent, ignorant of what really lay before me.

Most recently, I have been accused of trying to portray myself as a victim. I don't believe this to be true in the least. While I admit to many moments in which I feel quite sorry for myself, these moments are never very productive and contribute very little to the advancement of... Anything really. After my pity-parties and wallow-fests, I pretty much pick myself up, dust myself off and carry on with the task at hand. Granted it sometimes takes a pep-talk or two, but I always get up again. Always. That being said, I truly hate the term "victim". To me it is rife with images of a person not being able to help themselves, at the mercy of what life dumps upon them. I realize that this interpretation of the term takes away from true victims, victims of rape, disease, natural disasters, shark-attacks... But I don't like the unspoken "Weakness" associated with it.

I have experienced many things over a long period of time; many of these things beyond my control, some within, but never have I felt that I was too weak to forge ahead and deal with them. I've come pretty damn close, expecially lately, but I always get back up and face it. Always.

Most recently, I was tarred with the accusation that I am the type of person described in this blog about emotionally abusive women. (Gentlemen, any potential lovers, anyone who wants to know all about the real me; go read this blog. It will outline the true pain experienced by those who get to know the real me. Tragic. My heart truly weeps and I feel such remorse. Oh wait, if you read the blog, you'll see that I'm too twisted to feel remorse.)

nar·cis·sism –noun
1.inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity.
2.Psychoanalysis. erotic gratification derived from admiration of one's own physical or mental attributes, being a normal condition at the infantile level of personality development.

Based on my blog title, definition 1 obviously applies to me! All I write about is myself and how introspectively fascinating I am!!! And I'm vain enough to think someone will read this! (though remember, none of this is true, it's all fiction and egotistical ponderings).

What is Narcissism? According to Sam Vaknin, it's a pattern of traits and behaviors which signify infatuation and obsession with one's self to the exclusion of all others and the egotistic and ruthless pursuit of one's gratification, dominance and ambition. Most narcissists (75%) are men. I found this to be rather interesting. Also, recently, the Ottawa Citizen published an article on Narcissistic Personality Disorder that was profoundly fascinating as they included a checklist of signs of NPD including my favourite,Obsesses with fantasies about unlimited success, fame, power or omnipotence. That's totally me!

A few weeks later, in a completely unrelated correspondence with an acquaintance, I was sent a link to this blog outlining ways of coping with NPD types, expecially in cases of divorce. A true ray of light!

The problem with all of this, be it arming oneself with knowledge or coming to an understanding about the rough road that's been travelled is that with this particular disorder, there is no validation. These definitions, essays and articles could be taken and twisted so as to be and explanation of why I really am the way I am. I noticed a particular tone in the blog about emotionally abusive women; it seems that whenever a woman becomes angry or fed up, she emotionally unbalanced, unhinged, hysterical etc. It is hardly ever perceived as a situationally appropriate response to an event, a discovery or a trauma. Women are generalized as "too emotional" instead of beings that acknowledge what is going on within and actually expressing rather than repressing. The older a woman gets, the less she wants to hold those emotions in and less she is as easily fooled by the man who tries to veil himself as she wants him to be, the trickster.

I like to think that I've gained at least some wisdom in the past decade; my naive 20's are over, I'm more self-aware and I can observe a man with more objective eyes. It can be a little depressing, but I'd rather see the person flaws and all that be blinded by my objectification of them. I feel my emotions fully and assess them as I do, being honest with myself about where they came from and what they are about. Radical Honesty is a tough, but rewarding practice to maintain. This truth can be uncomfortable to observe, but it's a discomfort that makes way for a much lighter soul in the end.

This post is not about you and is all about you.

Namaste.