I have been doing Google research on narcissism, a very interesting synopsis by the Mayo. Clinic – you Google it if you are that interested. The folks at Mayo Clinic did uphold some of my intuitive understanding about the disorder – namely that there are far more male narcissists than female narcissists. What the article did not say is that I seem to have the ability to find and attract them – it is a talent that I am planning to abandon by the way.
But this is a related, sort of miracle, that happened. My friend Kathleen posted one of her poems on Instagram and it was so fitting. I asked her to send it to me and she did with this comment. It speaks to the ability to listen to others and have compassion for them. A trait that narcissists do not have – one of their problems and a problem for all of those around them.
“Thank you for understanding my poem “Wordless”. I appreciate your sharing the message as it is my hope to encourage teachers, parents, and caregivers, to patiently allow children time and tools to create and communicate their inner worlds. Time also to try to slowly vocalize the stories each line, mark, and colour represents of their stories, not yet understood. Therefore, they scream loudly externally, or they scream on the inside, internally – either way, it is up to us to make every effort to hear them. I wrote “Wordless” as a poem for the teachers and parents to understand more fully. I wrote it as a response to my Special Needs Early Childhood Educator experiences, addressing the miscommunication between children with no words and their caregivers. It is very important to me that children be given the chance, patience, and tools, to communicate and be understood, no matter how young they are.
Thank you for sharing. Here is an attached photo for your Blog of “Wordless” from my upcoming book “Horizons”. Merchandise, mobile covers, tote bags etc., with my poem prints are available at https://kathleen-tonnesen.pixels.com/”
Narcissism has become almost an obsession because, I have come to realize, that in all of my life there have been hordes of them, and they have been so harmful not only to me, but to everyone around them. I have had husbands, lovers, friends, and even therapists, financial planners and personal trainers who, in retrospect, were narcissists. But here is the very worse part for me. I realize now, after studying his life extensively over the past three years, that my Uncle Dave Dryburgh, the subject of the unfinished biography, was a narcissist. A great writer, in many ways a principled man, but a narcissist – in many ways and to this day the Dryburgh family remains cast in this pickle. It explains so much – the strained attenuated family connections and my lack of connection to them all. When I was useful to them they were quite interested in me but when I refused to play a pivotal role “mothering” and “socializing’ with them I was shunned. Finishing a biography, wrapping it up is a dreadful task for the biographer – the focus of your existence dies, disappears. This is one thing I learned from graduate school and from the certificate course I completed in biography. I have been unable to complete the work but now feel able to do it. It is easy to say good bye to a narcissist, I am practiced at the art. It. It is easy because you never got anything from them in the first place and it is so freeing to be able to stop trying to please the unpleasable.
I met someone very recently who appears not be a narcissist – we shall see. I am not planning to marry him or be in an confining relationship with him but it is interesting. We eerily have many things in common.
I do have to settle down, get an apartment and then finish the book. I am planning an extensive European trip this fall, that shall not be abandoned. Perhaps I could force myself to finish the book before I go – or maybe not as I am having too much fun.
My recent Marin County excursion proved most productive and useful. I have become the Technological Queen with a brand new Verizon phone plan, a new iPad and a Wifi device that I carry around with me. I shed the last vestige of my Vancouver existence by cancelling my expensive Canadian plan, so no longer a Canadian telephone number and the Canadian phone is unlocked. I negotiated the closure from my room at my Marin Inn and when completed began to howl, not just cry. I suppose it was in recognition of the pain and turmoil that characterized my Vancouver days and the sheer relief to know that it was all over. People close to me, knowing me in my Vancouver days and my new USA days marvel at how happy I have become. I emerged from the Marin Inn jacuzzi and spoke with one of the staff.
She: It is so nice to see you here again.
Me: Yes, I love it here. I will be staying in San Francisco but plan on coming here for a sort of stay vacation to soak up the sunshine and play in the jacuzzi.
She: That is so good to hear. We love having you stay with us.
Me: Oh my goodness, you are making me cry!
It is morning back at my San Francisco Inn. I met two darling little girls who were checking into this hotel, we had the BEST time and we are meeting for breakfast. They are seven and six, it was sort of a magical connection. I cannot wait and I am hungry.
The picture is of me and a strange T-shirt. I have no idea what it means but it is related to soccer as It is the team that lost to Liverpool just the other day.
