Category Archives: Trauma

The Karma Carrier

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I’m more or less reposting this article for self-reflection, as I seem to strongly feel this applies to me and would like to dig a little more…. recently I’ve wanted to do a very technical spell to cut the Karma chord with my mother, since I can’t help but feel in part that the circumstances surrounding my homelessness have to do with karma, and was warned of it earlier this year in someone else’s tarot reading they did for me. I need to persevere through this experience…. I hate this, but this wouldn’t have been dealt to me if it didn’t have its purpose. I find the parallels between myself and my grandmother uncanny to a major extent, but I see so many patterns and repetitions unfold between my life as her granddaughter, and her relationship with her own grandmother, and so on. This whole thing makes me want to do a family tree to trace back stories of old and reincarnation.

The Family Karma Carrier

 

Begging for Punishment

I’m at the edge of the precipice again… Last time I stood here I wrote that letter to Ben knowing full well the chain reaction of events would lead to a devastating level of revival towards healing, believing if I pushed past the point of transparency I’d find my way back, and I did… Now here I am again, and the clock is ticking. Just a few more days and my possessions will be in storage, I’ll have a family gym membership so I can shower, and a tent so we can sleep on the air mattress… In truth it’s all my fault, but Alex begs me to see otherwise… But it is. Once again I made the mistake of trusting people with something that could have fallen apart (and did). Instead of budgeting to live with someone, I should have moved out in February after fixing the car, but I really thought I’d be in a different position. By the same token however, I don’t want to be in a shelter. With a tent I can say I’m camping with my kiddo, and in truth it’ll end up being a spiritual journey inward wrestling with these emotions, which is probably what I need. Where the weather is warm enough, Sy too will be warm and fed and happy, and as long as he’s clean, healthy, and happy, then who cares. I just need to make sure whatever family gym I sign up for has a pool for us, and considering all the shit I’ve been getting for my weight lately, it’s not such a bad idea, though not the reason I wish to change my temple. 


To my grandmother and the asshole online who reminds me so much of Josh, fuck both of you. “Do you know how many times carol made your grandmother cry?” Why no, I don’t, because for the past 5 years she should have had enough distance between us to not talk about me on a daily basis. To put fault on me for her tears is the prevention and inability to take ownership of ones emotions, and I don’t give a shit if she comes from a different generation, I’m proud of my curves. In the right outfit I look amazing! As for the online guy who was claiming to be this amazing guy, labeling yourself as “alpha” tells me how sexism has negatively impacted who you are, and if you acknowledge I’m amazing but can’t look beyond something you’ve never seen, then maybe you’re 38 and single for a reason. That’s fine that you have your own taste in women, but I need a man to love my soul where it matters, and clearly you ain’t it. 


Crap, I meant to grab my charcoal and my sketch book… I’ve started reading the artists way, and it’s a little tough to stomach because the spiritual principles remind me of the Christian conditioning I endured, but I’m tying to stomach my way through it (when I’m not feeling dizzy from the immense eye rolling). I also got her book right to write since I am a blogger, and it seems like there’s so many ways to get published thatbitnwould be nice to get a book out there… Meh. Who knows. At this point I need to make space to write more personalized letters to the people and situations I’m wounded by to purge this emotional energy out of me and drain the dam of tears that’s pressure cooking at this point, but it’s been tough to find time and make space when alone time is being zapped away. 

Carpe Dieum 

Allowed to be Angry

In full swing I have been pissed at Kylie, and rather than possibly projecting my inner child onto her, I’m not allowing guilt to conflict with my ability to utilize my anger as a tool for boundary setting. I made it absolutely clear that if she’s comfortable trashing the kitchen floor so everyone has to jump over the trash spewing out of the bin because it’s not Sunday night, then from now on she has no problem committing to cleaning the bathroom on certain days since she’s been exploiting and taking advantage of me for months by not lifting a finger and doing shit. 


Because Ben was in on this conversation, he at least came downstairs and threw out what was on the floor, and agreed to wipe down counter tops, sweep floors, and will bring the trash out whatever day Kylie is not doing it and needs to be done, but he’s going in for spinal tap surgery today and will be gone for a week. 

Thankfully Alex and Destiny have been helping me through this, and agree her level of immaturity is through the roof. Last I knew destiny and Kylie were still friends since we all worked at great bay, but twice in a row that destiny was at my house, Kylie ignored her. Destiny was unloading all the racism she and her boyfriend have to deal with since trump was elected, and to be treated with such disrespect was awful! She pried to pass it off as “I’m too old for this drama”, but it lingered 24 hours later. My guess is Kylie insisted on picking sides between Sarah P, and Destiny rather than allowing their conflict to be their own, and picked sides. They were still friends when Kylie and I were friends, and destiny has a conversation from a few months ago and everything was fine. I don’t get it, but that was a super shitty thing Kylie did. 

Kylie also came home yesterday morning talking about how she got into an accident and wasn’t sure if she’d need a rental to get by, but as the story unfolded for each person she told (since she insisted on talking in the kitchen instead of her bedroom), the story subtlety changed until her mom showed up. It went from a vehicle spinning off and side swiping her to rear ending her. When I finally saw her car for myself there were 3 scratches and no dents in her bumper at all, nor anything on the side. Seriously, maybe I’m just getting too old for this level of drama too, but this is just crap. >.>’ 

Alex and I got some serious girl time in last night with tacos and tequila, and we’re rotating Tuesday nights. We were talking about how awesome it is we ended up being being friends, and got a serious amount of laughs and political discussion in. I needed it.

The Death of a Stalker

In truth, I can’t feel that bad for her. Originally Aris tried to get me to feel bad for her as this poor transgendered woman who can’t come out of the closet and he’s trying to rescue her to garner my sympathy… Then a professor snapped me out of it when she saw I was sympathizing with someone who threatened my sense of safety as a brand new mom and painted me as crazy so Kai didn’t have to take ownership of her actions. Every store I walked into, she followed me. Every parking lot I crossed, she followed me, and she knew exactly where I’d be because Aris told her where I’d be. When Aris gave me a hug I watched her collapse to the ground and sob, hiding behind the bushes. Then next day he said I was crazy, she wasn’t stalking me, and the whole thing was a coincidence.

For my sense of safety, I’m glad she can’t come after me anymore. While a part of me is genuinely judgemental that I can’t look at her and feel bad, the comfort is I know others who do care enough about her to do so. At this point I refuse to call her a “him” because she doesn’t deserve that respect, and as sad as it is, I cannot mourn the loss of someone who hurt me so bad as a new mother, leaving me defenseless and weak. While I understand many trans people would say this is offensive, to those that read it and feel offended, that is their choice to personalize something that ultimately has nothing to do with them. To other trans people in my life, I use the pronouns they give and I respect them. I have no problem with the trans community and would gladly march by their side… as for Kai? This is perhaps the only dagger I have for someone who made me feel my life was on the line, and I will cling to it till I’ve moved on. Knowing the pattern of women Aris sets out for, I know she too was codependent and a victim in the end, but that doesn’t change or justify her actions or the fear she put into me. A part of me truly wants to mourn for her as say “poor thing”, but I need to learn to cling to and care about myself, and this is in part all I have.

Knowing the pattern of women Aris sets out for, I know she too was codependent and a victim in the end, but that doesn’t change her actions or the fear she put into me.

>>>>>>>>>Kai’s Death

Looking at his text I’m calling bullshit. I know the only person he’s ever mourned the loss over is himself – like when I told him he was going to be a dad, and then when he cried because he begged me for an abortion and I told him I was going to leave him… Then he popped the question and asked me to marry him. >.>’ he told me he’s never cried over the loss of his grandfather or others he’s been close too, but the difference is he’s stoic, showing no emotion once that person is gone. In the context of grief work and narcissism, where my problem is I was shamed for grieving and didn’t know how to mourn my own losses, but mourned the loss of others, I have to wonder if he’s incapable of mourning the loss of others and only for himself. This was a huge red flag and a major warning sign when he told me he’s never cried over someone passing, and now I know why. I remember asking about this in therapy, but the answer was something about how everyone grieves differently.

Aris is truly terrifying in the context of things, and although I know why I fell for him, there’s another piece of me that still begs to ask… How did I ever fall for him? I ignored all the warning signs… I should have listened to that empathy, that intuition, that small panic inside my chest, but I didn’t. People warned me to stay away from him, but I found it strange that these people were all his friends, so they were all rejecting me, not him. This not to say that because I wish I’d never been with Aris as long as I was that I’m not thankful I’m a mom or a college grad, which all came about as a result, but I could have saved myself so much heartache instead of wanting him to save me. I truly do hate him. I also hate myself. I’m sure Kai hated herself too on some level… The women I’ve crossed paths with who have fallen victim to Aris all bare that likeness.

Somehow I see him as the predator he truly is now. I’m in shock.

Blending Experiences

Yesterday I did the Hecates ceremony and a tarot reading with a few simple questions with powerful results.

Before the Hecates ceremony I caught myself in a religious state I hadn’t experienced in a long time… But the emotion was strong and intense. Whenever I prayed to God as a Seventh-day Adventist Id always end up acknowledging my flaws and inadequacies before approaching the throne of the lord, since pride is not acceptable, as it was Satans downfall. Confession is a huge part of it too, and the feeling of forgiveness helped me to feel acknowledged and connected in my religious worship and prayers. 

Coming before Hecates I noticed that same process occurring…

“What if I’m not good enough? What if I’m not worthy? It needs to be perfect so which ceremony should I go for?”

That’s when I realized she’s not God, she’s a goddess, and because of what Hecates symbolizes, I can come before her strong in who I am because she’ll accept me as a woman at the very least. I’ve been on the right path for a while, and Hecates will show me the way, since that’s why I’m coming before her in the first place. I don’t need to feel pervasive insecurity in who I am before her, and as a goddess of power, she calls me to find ways to lock on to it. 


As I did the ceremony I was surprised how grounded I was, and the expansion of the heart chakra. My crown chakra is always on overdrive when I dip into a spiritual place and yawn profusely, even though I’m not tired. Certain reading material do the same, as my healing hands book from the library does. I felt more whole, centered, calm, and deeply relaxed in my practice, and it was a sensational novelty to both create and take part of. 

After a while I took a break and did my own thing for a bit… Made the psychic tea and it was pretty tasty, though I was disappointed it wasn’t spicier. It said it had peppermint and cayenne in it, but I didn’t experience much of that. 

With time nearing midnight and needing to go to bed so I can wake up in the morning, I asked The Goddess to guide my tarot reading, and the results I got were as follows:

What is one thing I can grow through for the next few weeks:

Upside down King of swords:

Represents someone who is overly regimented and militants in their routines. They’re harsh in their judgements of others, and of anyone who does not fit into their stereotypes. Could be accused of having a narrow outlook on life, without room for accepting new people, ideas, and new situations. Key factors of this card are intolerance and narrow-mindedness. 

Should I get involved in Politics?

King of Pentacles:

Successful and powerful with a great sense of responsibility towards family, friends, career, and community. Often successful because they have someone to provide for. This driving force is a motivator towards success, and achievement is measured through the security of family and views of oneself through important relationships in their life. Does not come across as overly confident. 

Should I become an energy healer (2 cards)

Heirophant: need to seek professional advice; alternatively any ritualistic service that is performed should have the appropriate spiritual leader.

Upside down Wheel of Fortune:

Although you may have had a run of bad luck in your past, things are changing and your life will soon take a turn for the better. Everything is on the way up and now it is time to enjoy the positive changes coming your direction. 

Should I consider selling adult toys through intamacy tickles, and will it be profitable? (2 cards)

10 of Wands for selling:

You have a lot of stresses, strains, and responsibilities, but you are quite capable of handling them so don’t worry too much. 

2 of Pentacles for finance:

You need to keep the balancing act up for a bit longer. Don’t make any decisions to drop any one aspect of your life just yet; you will need more information before making that choice. 

*personal reflection on the meaning and value of those answers to come later as I haven’t worked through it all yet, but I get the gist of it.

From there I called it a night and thanked the goddess for our reading and results. 


I had a dream that when I woke up from, I realized I’d ad multiple dreams like this in the past. Although it’s sexual, I’ll post it because there is something deep and profound in repetitious dreams, but I’ve never really bothered to assess one like this, as I did in the dreams where I’m drowning. The dream, though blended in details because of its repetition, follows to the best of my understanding like this:

First I’m in a house. Men keep running in, one at a time, trying to steal an object and leave; as one theif was done and leave, another one would soon enter. I’m trying to stop them in multiple ways – screaming at the top of my lungs so my brother would hear, setting up traps, chasing them, fighting them, but nothing seems to be effective. The more I fight to defend, the bigger and grander the house gets. 

The house is now a mansion, It’s “Christian” mansion from 50 shades of grey, but for some reason Christian is played by Liam Needon, so he’s a lot older than he should be but a great voice! Anyway, one loser busts in the house and I fake being injured and holding a secret blade in case he comes near, and I’m screaming until someone else hears me and arrests the guy. The last theif I fought was one I used seduction to stop him. He had tattered and dirty clothing, teeth were rotting and a few were missing, but he was younger than me by 2 years and I could tell he was looking for money for drugs. I managed to lure him to the couch and grind on top of him. I refused any real sex or oral because he stunk of sweaty balls (vomits). That’s when Liam Neeson comes down the stairs and see’s me! Finally, someone who could help me stop him. I quickly blurt out he was a theif and this was the only way to stop him until someone would help, and Liam glares and the theif. Then, for whatever reason, the words out of his mouth was that famous one liner.. I will find you, and when I do, I will get you.. Or something like that. 


I use to have sex fantasies like that all the time… me seducing men or women. Particularly its a theme of me seducing someone who has power over me to either protect myself or try and get my wants and needs met, and enjoying not only the sexual thrill, but the feeling of control, leaving them weak and helpless. My very fist sexual fantasy was something like that too… I was a government spy trying to get information out of a certain historical figure I was learning about in 4th grade. I dressed in one of those “I dream of geanie” outfits as a disguise and… Well… I got my information to say the least. 

I’m sure the meaning of these dreams is staring me dead in the face but I still need it decoded. It has to be more than just taking power away from someone. 

Blah… Long ass blog. I’m sitting at the coffee shop blogging all this. This morning I don’t know if I should feel proud or ashamed of myself for handling something between me and Kylie the way I did, but she left 2 weeks worth of trash for me to take care of and out agreement was that she’d start helping with dishes. 

“Hey Kylie, what’s the situation with the dishes?”

“Umm, what do you mean? I have dishes and plastic in my room that I wash and take care of?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t our agreement. You were doing that anyway.”

“Okay, well I guess it goes back to how things were.”

“Sounds good.”

The agreement was that rather than buying plastics and stuff she’d go back to doing dishes and helping out since I’m helping her take trash to the curb because “she can’t do it by herself”, but two weeks ago she did exactly that – she took all of it out. As a result, I only took out half the trash instead of all of it since she didn’t help with any of the dishes at all, and was simply using me. 

Of course, the tarot card I pulled falls in line with this as being militant and controlling, but I have to consider my own needs. I refuse to overload myself with work, or allow myself to be taken advantage of. I know this points back to living with mom and feeling like my sense of purpose and value in the household and as a woman was trying to clean and raise her kids, and homeschool them, but healthy boundaries requires balance of what I will allow myself to take on and be responsible for. Where it’s obvious she never had any intention on helping me, and I already clean up after her when she spills something on the stove or uses the restroom, I refuse to be her thankless nanny or mother. Where she’s constantly looking to feel enabled, I won’t be doing it. Do I feel guilty for what happened? Profoundly and immensely on an unhealthy level I do – but I didn’t attack her or anything, I just asked a simple question and she had the same idea I had. Im protecting myself, and even did it in person instead of through text as she requested, despite how obviously uncomfortable it made her. I need to come to terms with my power and find the balance without shame or fear. This sucks, and I really hate it. 

*sigh* why does being me have to be so complicated. I wish someone would just give me the solution to the problem on that one – am I doing the right thing, and how do I know so I don’t have to harbor these feelings of intensity and insecurity for putting my foot down. I could attempt to take pride in myself for doing what I did, but I don’t know if I should or why, allowing Kylies problems to be her own instead of bearing the burden of interaction between us. >.>’ fucking hell. I should not be this tense and panicked before work. I need to find a way to decompress. 

The Stillness in my Heart

You know what’s amazing about self-help & healing/therapy? When you connect to the goodness within you, you strive to be a better person… In particular I strive to be a better mom. I change my reactions knowing full well that what I model becomes my child’s internal voice. For an autistic child, how much more of a challenge is it to develop a healthy inner voice with a mom that lives a life of anxiety by example? Daily I work gently with myself to recover what was stolen from me… my femininity, my authenticity, my fragility, and my ability to accept what others could not of who I am, and I use those very key skills which mound themselves to the skill sets of empathy – not functional empathy but genuine empathy, to create a new inner dialogue for myself, and model the health of that dialogue for my son. My mistakes as a parent are my own, even if they may be generational by some extent, because I have the capacity to take ownership of who I am, who I wish to be, and flourish. It’s hard to look inside, and there are some elements that are longer to examine than others, but life is a journey and the choice to grow is my own. I love my life and the opportunities unfolding this year. I’m grateful to those that support and surround me, and keep the circle that surrounds my heart open to others. ❤️

Empathy is Intense

The ability to heal and be whole is lived and learned through empathy. I see now that the root of my work is to develop an empathic inner voice. The dialogue has to change, the relationship has to change, but in order for this to have happened, my understanding of empathy had to become more full in order to integrate it into self and not just others. 

I guess the best place to start would actually be in my blog, since it’s all self-dialogue in the end based on personal interpretation. I could always construct an empathic dialogue with myself self by taking 1 blog once a month and decnstructuing that experience with open-ended questions and statements I would tell my son to build him up…

*sigh* I wish I’d known the inner voice I was creating within my son. Seeing himself punish himself for making a mistake is my fault, because I would punishing him for making mistakes, like my parents before me… Especially my dad. He was a dictator on that level. I strongly suspect a huge part of my inner dialogue actually stems from him, and my insecurities that I try to cover with perfection stem from not understanding his depression, as well as being made to take on very adult responsibilities as a child. I’ve never thought to assess my dads clinical depression and the impact it had on me… I mean the more general impact he had on me, yes, but where he has a diagnosis of Depression and always had it would help to understand what depression for him looked like as a child, and how that shaped my internal voice and adulthood. 


“Anger is offen related to long-standing feelings of humiliation.” This is by far one of the truest answers I’ve needed in order to dig deep. It’s not that imnafraidnto ask these questions, it’s just that they never leave my mouth because it’s “my job to do the work” and the assumption is that if I ask “what is the root of deeply seated anger”, it takes away the work from figuring it out yourself. For me it seems to be the opposite – answer the question, and I know where to dig. The empathy book says people “return to the scene of the crime” in their healing journeys; for me it’s an excavation site where I need to dig and see the memories.

That was another one of my dads infamous signature statements – “figure it out.” “Figure it out for yourself.” “You figure it out.” If I had a question that needed answering, I’d always be told to figure it out. This was discouraging, angering, and upsetting to me as an 8 year old girl, and where my father could have shined the most actually had he taken the time to carefully listen and answer. I understand what the intent behind it was, to think for myself and grow in that regard… But where I had a chronic resentment against him for taking my mom away from me, this “figure it out” shit took away something else too… The ability to develop a relationship with me. It was redirective rather than explorative. It was a blockade, not a gateway. 

I love my dad, and I know it’s not his fault. I know he always did the best he could, and I probably knew more than I should have at a young age what he was struggling through because he dumped too much on me as a child that should have been discussed with an adult… But maybe I felt as if that healing his wounds would increase my self-worth, despite the confusion I felt for synonymously hating him because it was his fault I no longer had a mother. 

Too much… I’m going to cry here at the library… I’ve dug too much for today, but I’m sure I’ll start digging deeper still. 

Damn you full moon in Cancer. 

Memes & Facebook Emotional Support Systems

This was on my codependent recovery page:


While so many people were liking, loving, and saying “how true” to this post, I was both angry and offended. This was my response.

Probably because grief is a vessel we use to contain our losses, and when that vessel gets too full we cry, and until we’ve learned how to healthfully grieve and accept the loss of something or someone, the power won’t go away. It doesn’t mean we won’t be sad from time to time, but the difference between laughter from joy and tears from sorrow, is that laughter brings something into our lives where sorrow is the absence of something that once filled us. Sorry but there just isn’t a fair analogy in this picture; it’s almost a punishment for grieving because we couldn’t “get over it”. Of course, this is both my biased and humble opinion, so I’m sorry if this offends anyone.

That’s all I can see in this is another “get over it” statement. I’m somehow coming to resent my father constantly telling me to “get over it”, and it does deny me the inalienable rights of grieving and working through things in my way and in my time. He did grow up military as a single dad so I can’t truly be mad at him, but I’m starting to see that perhaps working towards “getting over it” is not the goal, but a lie we tell others to rob them of their journey towards understanding, based purely on the fucked up “cultural values” of America. >.>

I have no idea why I have so many deep and sad thoughts today but it is what it is I suppose. :-/

The Smallest Connection

To be human is to grieve, because if we grieve we are in touch with the swelling of emotions that make us so complex, the glue that permanently connects the puzzle pieces and fragments that make us human compared to the clinical diagnosis that seeks to pull us to pieces for fragmented labels of understanding. Grief is the soul, the definition of what it means to be human. You cannot be human without grief.

Oddly enough I can create fantasies in my head that cause me to grieve over and over again (which is why I suppose dramas and chick flicks are so profitable), but joining that to the real world is so much harder.

Once again I am drawn to think of him… And I know deep down in my heart that if I reconnect with that pain and grieve the loss of him – not just who he is but on some level the fantasy I made him out to be, I can draw my defenses down just a little bit more and connect with that realm of pain that promotes love and understanding. I loved him, and I still try to swallow that pain and stuff it down which is why in a rare eternity he can pop out of the blue and I’ll still talk to him rather than reject him.

I still hope to work through the conflicts that caused all this because I acknowledge I still love him to some respect, be it the real him or something imagined I conjured up in my head like the sorceress that I am. The illusioned piece of my head says “if you talk things out you can move on without him”, and the illusioned part of my heart says “if you talk things out it’ll draw you closer together, his problem is a fear of intamacy due to an unacknowledged level of emotional childhood abuse anyway”, and the the disillusioned part of my head says “you don’t need to talk to him to move on, it’s a lie. You’ve tried it before and it never works. Lay off the Oedipus complex for a while”, and the disillusioned piece of my heart says “stop trying to rescue him or salvage the past. You’re not a hero or a savior, so stop it.” So how do I grieve without becoming obsessive then… In grief we do carry people in our hearts that we live because we loved them, and it’s okay to express that… But this? There’s something very comorbid about it because it’s codependent. In truth I made him my savior to some extent, and for that I am sorry; not only is it inappropriate and too much burden to bare at a young age, but it’s obvious to me now that he was only playing out a cycle he lived at home through me, and I inadvertently perpetuated that dysfunction, which is in part the comfort he experienced being around me.

I wish I could rewind time with the knowledge that I have now and take it all back, but that’s not moving forward.

That’s where my confusion in all this lies… I don’t know what’s healthy to grieve and hold on too, versus cast out and let go of. I was too emeshed in him, and he just… I don’t know. I placed too much on him, and for that I am truly sorry. I know I’ve come to the pice of understanding when it comes to him before, but I keep revisiting it. I was blown away last October when he told me that he felt as if I understood him better than most people, as I not only believed it to be both true and false, but also dangerous. The sad thing is I feel as if I see him now clearer than I ever was able too in the past, and I think his information seeking was clarification for information I couldn’t provide at that time…. Again, I’m not his savior and it’s not my job to rescue him… Nor does he need it. Once he’s in the right place at the right time of his journey of understanding… If it every happens… He’ll do the work necessary to heal on his own. I doubt he’d want to acknowledge that anyone would have such faith in him (especially out of my mouth), but it’s true.

Truth

It would be nice if one of these days I could look back on us and rather than chronically saying sorry I could look on everything with loving eyes and say “peace be unto you.” Why the strange sentiment I don’t know, but somehow, just to acknowledge that as I have feels so right.

The Destructive Power of Empathy: In Defense of the Narcissist

Today I was feeling well enough to head to the library, and while I was there I finally managed to pick up a book that always looked interesting, but when I skimmed through it, it seemed to bland and… doctoral. Of course, the author of the book has a Ph.D as a clinical psychologist so I shouldn’t be surprised, but today I finally gave myself a few minutes to sit down and read it. It’s called “The Power of Empathy” by Arthur P. Ciaramicoli. Inside the first chapter alone it cracked the damn of my perception on empathy, or rather, a lack their of.

Any codependent site you find will inevitably talk about the Narcissist, and how codependents and narcissists are ultimately 2 sides of the same coin – one values others above self, and the other values self above others. My perspective, as I’ve been led to believe for many years through interpersonal experiences and my own education, is that Narcissists lack empathy… perhaps however, this isn’t 100%. In this book the perspective of empathy has both a light and a shadow side. Empathy is simply placing your ear against one’s soul (self or others) and listening intently to the whispering’s that come forth. What we do with those messages once we’ve heard them is ultimately what dictates the light and shadow side of empathy.

When the Nazis attached loud sirens to their dive-bombers, they knew that this strange noise coming from the sky would create panic in people on the ground below. Using empathy – the ability to look into peoples hearts and souls, knowing their hearts and feeling their emotions – the Nazis could play on their victims fears in a calculated attempt to destroy them.” (Funny enough I always say it’s a good think Skinner was an American and not a German at this time working for Hitler. He’s research is fascinating and scary in it’s own right, as is any comprehensive form of Behaviorism.)

This really did shift my outlook on Empathy, as my own understanding was that people who behave in this fashion do so because they don’t understand empathy, lack empathy, or are incapable of it. If what the author says is true, then it’s not a lack of empathy that would dictate the Narcissist, as they are experts in manipulation and probably understand it better than anyone. No, it’s something deeper… motive and morality, possibly some biological basis behind it… of course, how they chose to harm others with their skills of empathy, though probably a faulty defense mechanism, is entirely on them. It’s doesn’t excuse what they do or why, but I will say it helps humanize them a tiny bit more.

In my own life, my tongue and my mind are a sharp whip when I’m pushed off the deep end. I’m not proud to say that if you really push me too far then I will lash out, and the closer you’ve gotten, the more it hurts when I speak, because in the heat of the moment I forget what buttons really hurt, but on the other I’m gonna push them anyway, making things more subconscious than conscious. Obviously this is a defense mechanism, and one that could be replaced with something better, but I think that in the overall scheme of things, intent and purpose are what drives the maliciousness of ones behavior. Deep inside my heart I can see that rarely have I ever said or done anything purely out of spite, and the first time I did it (the big jim comment), I knew I had gone too far before anyone said anything. I immediately felt that shame and carried it with me before anyone else had the chance to open their mouth and say anything, because I was horrified at myself in that moment.

At the very least, I now know that empathy will be one of the answers to my essay questions in my masters application paper… everything is lining up for me to succeed… if only I could get out of my own way and just do it without all this resistance.