16. Sliding Down that Mountain. Maybe calling it Glassading would make it a little fun?

Unbelievable. That is my catch word for the day. Here are the things that are unbelievable to me today:

1. Depression, especially at-work depression. This thing is tough! You think it's on its way out of your life finally and SMACK, it bitch-slaps you right in the face. How many posts have I made about this awful depression--this huge green-black, heavy, freezing wave? How many times have I thought, seriously, that I was overcoming my depression and dealing with my grief once and for all, that I'm finally getting over it, that I truly feel free? How many times has my Lord dealt with me about it, taught me lessons from it, and delivered me from it's icy grip?

2. Groveling. Today I asked Rob if I could come home. It's been ten weeks. I've decided to have rotator cuff surgery once again since I'm no longer motivated to continue with my holistic approach to these bone spurs, and my right shoulder is agonizing. The last surgery took four weeks to somewhat recover from. Rotator cuff surgery is listed among the top five most painful and debilitating surgical procedures. I'm not looking forward to it. Once again, I'll face my demons, my ANTs. Last time I had the surgery I had great motivation to recover and rehabilitate: once I got better I would be able to fly back to my home in Utah and my darling prince who loved me. This time I will spend the entire month of rehab thinking with this one: well Robby sure isn't waiting for you to get well and come home this time, is he now...

Wailing. Not just crying, sorrowful, sniffling little crying. Big. Loud. Wailing crying. I haven't cried this hard since the day I left for Spokane.

15. I give because I love.

Today is Friday. I bought, wrapped and shipped some gifts to Wenatchee. It was fun buying the gifts, but while I was wrapping them I began to think of Rob and wondering if he was going to do Christmas for his grandchildren. I ended up getting doused with a moderate wave of sadness, it was a little slip down the mountainside.

It's so dark here so early, because we are only 30 minutes from the mountain standard time zone. It gets dark at 4:30 pm. Today I got my gifts shipped, plus my Christmas cards, plus the slideshow copies I did for a friend of mine in Portland. I'm glad that's all done.

This is my first post written completely without any pain meds on board. I'm not having a hard time thinking of something to write, but I will admit to not feeling as chatty as normal.

14. Climbing a Mountain

I found this amazing quote today from Mrs. Charles Cowman's Streams in the Desert:

"He knows what is best for me. My environment is of His determining. He means it to intensify my faith, to draw me into nearer communion with Himself, to ripen my power. In the dungeon my soul should prosper...so, let come what will come, His will is welcome; and I shall refuse to be offended in my loving Lord."

Yesterday I had coffee with my friend Lori. I told her how excited it was to be finally in a position of actually seeing God work in this heart-wrenching journey. I haven't known Lori very long, but every time I talk with her she lends a generous pastoral ear, offers sound advice, and gently keeps me grounded in reality. Lori faithfully reminded me that I'll continue to have ups and downs, or ebbs and flows as I continue on towards Life After Divorce; that there will still be times of confusion for me, except now I'll no longer be floating meaninglessly in open sea, going nowhere. Now my ebbs and flows have a sense of purpose and are directing me toward shore.

It was really important for me to hear that. Last night my head cold deteriorated and I started feeling really lousy. That in turn opened me up to some back territory: little stabs of depression and self pity. What little sleep I did get was interrupted by bad dreams. I awoke several times with a fever and coughing, and just had an all-around cruddy night.

This morning I was reminded of Lori's counsel that there will continue to be ups and downs. Had I not heard that yesterday I would have awakened this morning feeling like all my earlier successes were shot; I'd hopelessly feel like I'm never going to find peace. Sitting at the table of reality is such a fine place to be! Of course there are going to be ups and downs in my future. Clearing one hurdle doesn't mean through with the race is through. The devotion above helps remind me that God is sending me UP this mountain slowly, one step at a time. Sometimes I'll slip and fall back but when I do I'll re-climb in steps already planted into the mountainside. These little slips backward only serve to nurture, fuel, and validate my climb.

I will never be offended that my Lord is doing what is absolutely best for me; that He has a plan for a much, much better life for me.

13. A Prayer, a Broom Bush, and a TURNING POINT!

Something strange and profound happened today. I made the realization that fat, lazy Sadness ANTs about Utah have no effect on me any more. The usual layer of dark blues that try to coat my little brain are losing their power over me. ALL my taunting memories from Utah have just sorta stopped bothering me at all. Huzzah! I'm taking this as a very good sign; a directional arrow pointing to the Big A (Acceptance!) Washington memories: you're next.

It's really weird, and totally out of my control: every single one of my memories of Utah, without exception, is being blocked by some kind of blessedly negative vibe that seems to be shielding my fragile self. For example: it's 5 degrees outside with frosty sunshine when I take Samuel to school. The six-weeks-ago Tracy would have shed a tear at the sight, being flooded with memories of Utah mornings crisp and bright with hoar frost shimmering everywhere. That in turn would have led to thinking about my happy little job at the ski resort, which would have led to meeting Rob for breakfast burritos at work... all snowballing into a big fat WAVE of depression.

Now I can't will myself to 'miss' anything about Utah. Even the very best memories seem to be blocked by some internal defense mechanism going UM NO, THAT WAS IN FACT NOT A GOOD TIME FOR YOU, REMEMBER YOU WERE IN THE THROES OF A DESPERATE WAITING GAME AND CONSTANTLY CRYING ABOUT BEING STRUNG ALONG??

Thank You God!! This is a gift. This is something from You. It all came about after I prayed a few days ago about the prophet Elijah. It seems he had been running for his life and was drop dead exhausted. He came to a lone broom bush in the desert and plopped his sorry, tired rear under it, saying okay Lord, stick a fork in me, I'm done. I can go absolutely no further, not one more step. I don't care what happens any more, I'm just too tired to go on. So this angel appeared and told him it was ok if he didn't want to run any more; that God just wanted Elijah to eat and drink something, and sleep. The angel provided some food and water and Elijah ate, drank, and slept until he was completely rested.

That's exactly where I was the other night. I was so weary from trying in vain to escape tormenting memories that were chasing me, and I finally pleaded with God, saying look, I'm like Elijah, here. I am exhausted and cannot run away any more. You simply must do something about these memories that are attacking me, because I don't have any strength left to fight them off.

And He said Tracy, rest. Rest assured, I give you My word those memories will no longer chase you. There I was, under my own dismal little broom bush, completely spent, and my Lord said OK you've had enough. I'm going to intervene now.

12. A.N.T.s: Automatic Negative Thoughts (Change Your Brain, Change Your Life by Dr. Daniel Amen, MD)

The ANTs are marching.
Today I'll be flying to Vancouver for a doctor's appointment. All morning I've been lying in bed, terrified to face this day. For eleven months my monthly trip to Vancouver has always been the exact same ritual for me: driving to Mom and Dad's in Rob's white truck, spending the night, seeing the doc early in the morning, then driving back to Olympia in time to get to work by 1 pm. Same thing. Same path. Every month. I could make the trip in my sleep.

Today I will arrive via the Portland airport. Kimi will thankfully be with me, as she is winding up a four day visit with us here in Spokane. Mom will pick us up, we'll drop Kim off, then head home. This time I'll pull into their driveway as a passenger, in my mom's car. My dad will be inside watching Fox News; he'll smile and say wassup kido when I walk in the door. I'll inevitably look out the window and Robby's white truck will not be in the driveway. It will hit me like a ton of bricks: tomorrow I won't be rushing off to hit I-205 northbound, I'll come back to this house; I'll be trying to just--breathe.

The next day the weight of yet another wave will crash down as I walk out to the driveway, sans white truck, and load my stuff into mom's car to head back to the Portland Airport. Finally, for the depression coup de grace, I will walk past the flights headed to Salt Lake City where I went so many, many times before, and will instead choose a gate whose flight is headed for Spokane, Washington.

11. It's Really Not All About Me. Really.

Today I woke up really, really low. It's just now 10:45 and I just got out of bed, after a sickening blow to the gut of depression, followed by two bouts of a good cry. And right now I have to ask myself: my gawd girl, what are you thinking? So much incredible pain out there right this minute and you're all undone over a five year relationship? A 22 month marriage? Really?

Right now a woman in Sacramento is grieving over the loss of her husband of 40 years. Jerry's twin sister, my former sister-in-law, and my friend for 23 years, is sitting alone in a big house filled with forty years of memories. Seven weeks ago her world came crashing in when her husband Kenneth was diagnosed, out of the clear blue sky, with a deadly brain tumor. He went quickly, and last week she became a widow. Five weeks before she lost him they were planning for Thanksgiving with their family and Christmas with their grandson. They had no idea those holidays would never come for them; that she would actually spend them as a solo mommy, a solo grandma.

Right now four families; three wives and one husband are in a daze, on their own private journeys of bitter alone-ness, weighed down under their own waves of loss so profound it makes my own loss seem pitiful and ridiculous. They are the families of the four Lakewood police officers who lost their lives in a senseless, shocking mass assassination while they sat innocently in a Pierce County coffee shop. They will not spend Christmas with their husbands or wife, dads or mom. They will watch little ones open presents, already purchased, from their lost relatives, and figure out how they're going to explain this glaring aberration.

Somewhere someone is dying, someone is getting a grim diagnosis, someone is on the phone calling everyone in the book because a teenager did not come home. The waves are cold, huge, dark. They are ripping open the hearts of good men and women who, like me, had no idea they even existed, much less were about to pound down on top of them.

Who am I, God, reader, to be so caught up in my little pain? My loss is miniscule, really. I hope and pray that this realization will help me battle the terrible fear of what lies ahead for me. How sad is that... me me me. God would You please, please take this pain I have for my own silly circumstances and turn it into pain for those suffering losses I can't even imagine?

I prayed this once a couple of weeks ago: Lord, break my heart, as You've done, not for my own life situation, but for others' pain and loss. Break my heart, God, for the lost.

10. Out of Meds: crushed

Tonight I swallowed what bit of pride I had left after all this and asked Rob for a little help with my December meds and doctor's appointment. Now that I live in Spokane I have to fly to see my pain doc rather than just drive down from Olympia. That's an extra hundred bucks on top of the cost of the appointment and the meds themselves.

I sent him an email outlining this, and reminding him that had I still lived in Olympia working full time I'd not need any help from him at all, but anything he could do to help me out would be appreciated.

He ignored me completely. This is a hurting night, knowing he is so calloused and cold; that his spirit is so black.

9. Out of Print: Books on my Reading List

WOW! There are some really fabulous books available about surviving, getting over, and recovering from a narcissist. I can't wait to purchase all the titles here, and will save diligently to get them. Might even clean an apartment or two to pay for them, totally worth it.

~ Malignant Self Love, Narcissism Revealed by Sam Vaknin. This is a large book, and expensive but I'm gonna keep my eye open for a used copy. This book has been described as the bible of narcissist-recovery.

~Why is it Always About You? The Seven Deadly Sins of Narcissism by Sandy Hotchkiss. A newer paperback (2003) that discusses how we end up in the crosshairs of narcissistic people, and how we get swept into their lair. My favorite excerpt from the book synopsis is this: "Explores how individuals come to have this shortcoming, why you get drawn into their perilous orbit, and what you can do to break free" I love that!

~Freeing Yourself from the Narcissist in Your Life by Linda Martinez-Lewi. This cool little book describes itself with this gem: "...a guide to recognizing, coping with, and ultimately overcoming the destructive behavior of narcissists.

~Narcissism: Denial of the True Self by Dr. Alexander Lowen. This is the book I want the most, yo. The thing I love about it is that it speaks to the reader as if he or she is the narcissist, rather than a victim of the narcissist. I think it will give me a better glimpse into what makes Rob tick, what may have contributed to this personality, and explores the possibility that there is healing for him. I was really drawn to Dr. Lowen's belief that "narcissists do not love themselves or anyone else." Huzzah! That's one of the notes I myself wrote in my own little paper about narcissists in my post Out of Order: Notes and Quotes. I think Dr. Lowen and I are going to get along fabulously.

8. Out of Order: Notes and Quotes

Things that make you go, oh.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD)

Signs/Symptoms

1. Reacts to criticism with rage or other negative behavior
2. Is preoccupied with feelings of success
3. Has unreasonable expectations of favorable treatment (from me, his daughters: women in general)
4. Disregards the feelings of others and lacks empathy
5. Pursues all or mostly all selfish goals
6. Expects to be noticed as a superior (especially from me, his daughters, his ex-wife, and women in general)
7. Is highly successful. Excessive ambition and confidence may lead to high achievement, but performance can be disrupted due to intolerance of criticism or defeat.
8. Sustained feelings of shame or humiliation (his own father: abuse, own narcissism, suicide [the ultimate narcissistic abuse])
9. Rejects and despises authority, is fiercely independent, controlling, self-centered, and aggressive.
10. Fears intimacy and is locked into cycles of hesitant approach followed by avoidance of commitment.
11. Poor team player.
12. Dreads his own weaknesses and tries to overcome them by projecting an image of success, self-sufficiency, and superiority.
13. Often high-profile or high-authority individuals.
14. 75% of classic narcissists are men, most of whom were raised by a smothering or doting mother. (in this case, sister, when mom passed away)
15. Narcissism usually does not include physical vanity. 

 

Just high self esteem? Um, no.

The difference between someone with high self esteem and a narcissist is that the person with high self esteem focuses on relationships, where the narcissist wants to know what others can do for them, without caring for others. The narcissist is not capable of having a close emotional relationship.

Low self esteem? Um, no.

People with low self esteem can be depressed but they are usually caring partners, even though they are usually insincere.

Narcissists are either 'cerebral' where they derive their narcissistic supply from their intelligence or academic achievements, or 'somatic' where they derive their narcissism from their physical looks, physique, strength, etc.

Classic narcissists' emotions and needs are buried under a thick layer of scar tissue which has hardened and coalesced during years of one form of abuse or another. They have visions of grandiosity, a sense of entitlement, and a lack of empathy, all which hide an ever-present insecurity and a fluctuating sense of self-worth. 

****************

High Tide, Low Tide

In one of my many listless, random internet searches for continued answers to this ongoing roller coaster ride I came across this gem:

"One of the most confusing things to the victim of verbal abuse is the transition from one abusive event to the next. Once the abused person has survived the insult, stonewalling, yelling, whatever, and things go back to “normal” (whatever that means), the victim clings on to the hope that, 'OK, Now we will build, we will work together to make a happier life for both of us…'. This ebb and flow is one of the things that keeps victims of abuse in the relationship."

***********************

Notes from Dr. England

"When you said your vows, what were you expecting? I suspect if you were like most women, you thought you were entering a partnership. You would enjoy shared power, right?

I bet you’ve discovered something quite different, though. I bet he likes to have power over you, isn’t that so? And to ensure he achieves and maintains this, he might well use emotional abuse, verbal abuse, economic abuse.

The thing is, you might not even realize that your relationship with your narcissistic spouse is filled with these forms of abuse. You might feel badly or experience emotional pain much of the time, but still not understand why. You might well believe your narcissistic spouse when he tells you how you are the problem, and if you just changed and did these things he wanted, well, life would be grand.

He keeps emotional abuse, verbal abuse, and economic abuse in his marital toolbox because they work for him. Meanwhile, you believe that the two of you have a partnership.*

Sorry, but a relationship with a narcissist is not about partnership. Those suffering from unhealthy levels of narcissism don’t know what that means. They are self centered. They lack empathy. And more than anything else, they are grandiose. Whether successful or not, they feel entitled to have what they want when they want it.
 

If you have kept asking yourself what went wrong, perhaps nothing did--at least not to your husband's way of thinking. See, you might have married this man before he had time to remove his mask or show you his true colors.

Sorry, but if you are married to a man who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder or NPD, or who displays unhealthy levels of narcissism even if he doesn't match the number of criteria required to be diagnosed with this personality disorder, he might have intentionally created a facade or persona to reel you in. That was his sole intent. 

Oh, I know. That isn't how you see him despite everything he puts you through. Indeed, despite the fact this man now shouts obscenities at you regularly, you probably make excuses for his bad behavior, don't you?

He probably suspected you were the codependent type who would bend over backwards to please him. Yes, you would forfeit your own needs and desires while he battered you with his emotional abuse and verbal abuse. It is probably because you are a caring and empathic person that you have trouble seeing the truth about your relationship, too.

I know, you certainly don't see him as the enemy, but instead, as the man you still love with all your heart. Nevertheless, he might well see you as the enemy despite the fact you do everything he ever asks.

Be honest here. Do you tell yourself that if you could only be better yet, things would be okay? Do you blame yourself for the fact he is not pleased--and secretly believe he has the right to belittle you because, indeed, you let him down once again when he was trying so hard to trust you?

It can be difficult to take off the blinders you are invariably wearing and stare the truth hard in the face. Just remind yourself how long it has been since your narcissistic spouse has come bearing flowers and gifts--including just the gift of kind and empathic words."

                                                       ***********************

Quote from Narcissistic Relationships thread of mentalhelp.net:

"Personally I think the fact that your husband wants a divorce is a painful godsend. Of course it hurts and you aren't crazy for feeling that way. You spent 15 years of your life loving and trying to please this man and all you get for it is a sudden divorce! And you bet he will insist that you are the reason for the break-up because that is what a narcissist does - being flawless he blames everything he does on everyone else around him.

Accept the divorce, join a support group for divorcees and get into therapy to assess your reasons for putting up with this jerk. You deserve so much better."

*******

"The narcissist inflicts pain and abuse on others. He devalues Sources of Supply, (spouse, for example) callously and off-handedly abandons them, and discards people, places, partnerships, and friendships unhesitatingly. Some narcissists – though by no means the majority– actually ENJOY abusing, taunting, tormenting, and freakishly controlling others ("gaslighting"). But most of them do these things absentmindedly, automatically, and, often, even without good reason."

~from Malignant Self Love, Dr. Sam Vaknin
                                                          ************

John Shore writes: 

“So why don’t you just leave him already!?”

If you’re a woman in an abusive relationships, that’s a piece of advice you’ve probably heard before. It seems so simple...

                                                            *Except its not*

A man beats you, and somehow you still love him. (Because:)

·      Your man is cute. He has adorable ways. You see that little boy in him, and you melt.

·      He needs you. He’s powerful. He’s got that charm thing some guys have.

·      He’s got that way of talking, of moving, of boldly taking control of stuff—he’s brave like that.

·      He does things in the world. He’s smart!

·      Underneath it all, he’s a good man. He was raised poorly. His dad never gave him a break. He tries.

·      He’s got those arms you love.

All of these sorts of qualities that you love in your man really are lovable: there’s no doubt whatsoever about that. If you’re a woman in an abusive relationship, though, here are two things that you must bear in mind about all the sorts of things that make you love your man in spite of the awful way he treats you:

1. Every man has all kinds of qualities that are every bit as attractive and lovable as any characteristic possessed by your man. You just don’t know any other guys like you know your man; you’re just used to your man’s lovable qualities. Your man’s qualities seem really unique because they belong to him. But you could love those same qualities (and a whole bunch of new ones!) in another man—one who doesn’t treat you like garbage.

2. Your man uses his lovable qualities to keep you hooked on him. "

 ~John Shore,  ( JohnShore.com ) Seven Reasons Women Stay in Abusive Relationships... 

                                                   ******************* 

                                         Is there a pattern here... ?

7. Out of Balance: Depression pwns Tracy

Today marks the one month anniversary of my break up. 31 days ago my world fell apart, my life changed, my faith grew. I faced grief head-on and sailed through its first three phases: denial, bargaining, and anger. Then early last week phase number four reared its ugly head. Depression came calling and planted itself firmly in the very front part of my brain, right where I would constantly see, hear, and feel it's presence.

I've always flirted with depression in one way or another. Two wonderful therapists, Rose and Gayle, have explained to me that this stems from being left behind by bio-dad, whom I remember as 'Daddy' from early childhood and 'Steve' from my adulthood. Abandonment by a dad, I learned, often leads women to seek out boys and men who are toxic, and to just love them too much. They tend to ignore warning signs of bad relationships.

Accordingly, I have been dumped before, by bad boys. I've felt this pain before. This time it's been a different journey, because this time of course, I was married. The man of my dreams and I spoke vows before our family, promising to stick it out through better or worse. I meant what I said. Rob, apparently, did not.

Today depression is telling me to kick back and hang out in memoryville. Memories which are so painful for me now that I cannot write about them. What's so ironic about my depressed, memory-obsessed mind is that I can't live with my memories and I can't stand to forget them. Sometimes when my memories of married life with Rob hit me it's as if someone punches me in the gut really hard. The wind literally gets knocked right out of me. My arms and legs feel a hundred pounds heavier and my hands go numb. My face freezes: no smile, sound, sniffle, or tear can escape. I become a lump of coal, completely dead to the world.

I've found that waves of depression can hit any time of day, but are most likely to assault me while I'm out of the house. Last Sunday I went with Courtney to the mall while she got her hair done. I thought it would be cathartic to wander around the shops. I grabbed a spinach salad and set out to roam the mall one floor at a time. There were people everywhere, laughing and excited for the holidays. Christmas decorated the entire mall; it was beautiful and cheery. I saw my favorite stores and a lot of sales going on. It was snowing outside and warm inside and people everywhere were smiling, laughing, sharing.

I never felt so alone in my entire life. I hated every step I took, every face I saw, and every song I heard. It took every ounce of composure I could muster to not burst into tears. I felt like everyone I came across felt sorry for me, somehow knowing my pain and humiliation --pshaw, she just got dumped, I know that look yo.

I went back to the salon and waited for Courtney's foils to develop, trying miserably to tune out the background music. (Why is it when we suffer a breakup that suddenly every single song ever released was somehow tied to "us"? I don't get that.) I tried praying. I begged God to take the overwhelming sadness sacked out on top of me, and when He did not, I begged Him to lend me some physical pain--arthritis, tendonitis, back pain, even a tooth ache--I begged my Creator to allow pain to bite me so I could take a pain pill to escape my incredible sadness.

I worry intensely about allowing my pain meds to become a crutch during this journey. So far I have refused to pop a painkiller purely for emotional needs. At this point I'm not sure what to do with them, I've been taking prescription pain pills for years. I was in the beginning phase of switching from pharmaceutical pain management to holistic pain recovery when I got dumped. My doctor has warned me that to wean off narcotics during an emotional dive bomb like my breakup could be disastrous. So, I dutifully take my pill every morning. That it faithfully delivers a false sense of euphoria and false hope is, frankly, a bonus.

The second wave of this great depression hit me just today, December 1st. I took my grand- babies to the park around the corner after naptime. This was an ill-timed plan. Had I taken them after morning snack we would have been blessed with the sun being fairly high in the sky, sending warm and cheery beams straight down on us at any angle. Instead, we went when the shadows were long, even though it was only two in the afternoon. That made the day seem lonely, gloomy, and dark in spite of the cloudless sky.

I was watching the kids play when Wave Number Two hit, and nearly had to steady myself lest I fall right over from its weight. The familiar numb face and hands, the heavy arms and legs, the dry throat all smacked me at once. The air turned 20 degrees colder, and the shadows got a lot longer as the sun seemed to disappear right out of the sky. This particular wave also brought its good friend and fellow wave nausea, accompanied by regret and pity.

I could almost see the oppression. I could certainly feel it. The babies played, shouted, and ran around, completely oblivious to my sudden onset of complete paralysis. Cold and loneliness settled on my shoulders and ran down my arms like thick paste. My tongue grew numb and heavy. My eyes closed a little. Next my knees buckled as the dark wave crushed the lower half of my body. I could hear the children, and was very aware of their presence but powerless against this unseen force to interact with them. Their laughter sounded like it came from a great distance through thick insulating fog.

After a full minute of utter aloneness in the middle of that playground I forced myself to snap... somewhere. Anywhere, just get out of that funk; I had babies to attend to! I reached into my coat pocket and found my cell phone, pulled it out and switched on the camera. Photography would save my soul as it had so many times before. I began taking pictures of my babies climbing, swinging, and running around. Before I knew it my techno-pic brain kicked in and I began walking around, chasing after them to capture them in the best light. It was a brilliant play on God's part to lift me up from the depths of that brutal wave that had pounded me into oblivion. By the time the kids finished playing and we were loaded in the car I had gotten myself fairly well removed from the dark wave. I looked back and thought geez I was in some sort of altered state of consciousness there, like a seizure patient in his postictal moments right after a convulsion. Seriously, scarily heavy.