I’ve developed kind of a habit of listing to National Public Radio on Sundays.   During the course of the day, I overheard an interview with a graduate student that piqued my interest.  Her research revealed that babies as young as 3-months old preferred the toys who had exhibited better character.  Allow me to explain, for this may seem a little abstract.

This young woman basically played with babies by performing little skits using toys.  Her observations were that, once the play was finished, the babies preferred the toys who had been “nice”during playtime.  When asked how she knew how the baby was reacting to character rather than a preferred color, she explained that she would use two stuffed toys of different colors in multiple experiments with different children.  In spite of the color of the toy, infants predominantly chose the “nice” toy over the one whose part in the play had been “mean.”

There was an interesting question asked in the new Alice in Wonderland movie.  As the uncertain Alice encountered the Mad Hatter, he was disappointed by her fear and said, “You used to be much more … you’ve lost your much-ness!”  The silly wording of the statement caused a smile but the profundity of the statement wasn’t lost on me.

Many of my readers talk of their own disbelief with themselves.  Every time I read a comment like that, it breaks my heart again.  There is not an adequate explanation for the things we have chosen to change about ourselves in order to maintain a relationship with a Narcissist and no way to describe the after effects to people who haven’t dealt with an NPD.  As many of us have learned through experience, the relationship we thought was love was not what it seemed. 

All the holiday commercials on TV this time of year sometimes serve as a rancid reminder about emotions that I once felt.  The illusion of love propagated by our culture is designed to make us want it but, what is it?

When my former beau reached for me, the anticipation of his touch was like an electrical arc charging the air.  Every smile, kiss and impassioned embrace that I shared with him was, to me, an expression of my love for him.  For him, a Narcissist and serial dater, it apparently was some game that he played to prove to himself that he had the ability to amuse, seduce and sexually satisfy a woman.

Here comes another day, fraught with memories that comprise a most massive disappointment of my life for a thousand reasons and simultaneously for no reason at all.  My mother, who lived a full life, died two years ago on May 26th.  June 3rd marks the anniversary of her funeral, and another siginificant event in my life … the day my Narcissist chose to end our relationship.

 I don’t know what to think about that event.  I’ve garnered many opinions from others, yet I keep my own counsel on the matter.  A part of me wants to empathize with the stress my Narcissistic lover might have been under but another part of me wants to believe the words of those who also knew him then.  As he is a coward and will not speak of the event with me, his point of view remains hidden.

He came forwards as a hero on the day my mother fell into a coma.  He was at the hospital with me, being everything I dreamed a lover would be at such a time.  We spent hours on the phone talking over things as my mother’s condition worsened.  It is impossible to forget the angelic glow of white that surrounded him as he soothed her dying body in the hospital bed.   At face value, he was perfect in that role. 

The day Mom died, as he walked away from my car to go back to what he referred to as work, he claimed he felt free.  The tone of our conversations on the phone, the week after her death, took on a different tone.  He bagan to tell me my calls were intrusive but he never explained why.  The day of Mom’s funeral, when he came through my door nearly an hour late, unshaven and unshowered wearing clothes that looked as if they had been slept in, I felt the storm he brought with him.  I knew I was in danger with him that day but I had no where else to turn.

Days of festivals and parades are supposed to be fun.  Like my cat, who is disturbed by the noise, I stay in a back part of the house so as to be less affected by Lumberjack Days.
 
As I worked in my office, it occurred to me that there was only one “kind of” happy parade day experience for me here.  It would have been a perfect day had it not been for the upset from the night before with someone who couldn’t remember an agreement he had made with me after blowing off our 4th of July holiday plans that year and scheduling something else in conflict.  Of course, he didn’t inform me of this until all my other friends had plans of their own…   
 
It was always about what he wanted to have and, no matter how much I gave him, it wasn’t ever enough.  This is a Narcissist’s claim to fame, so I later learned.