New post at the new site.
The new address is very easy to find, so I hope you’ll come on over. We have a lot to talk about.
Narcissists hate momentum. To narcissists, there is nothing good about momentum. Momentum is powerful, positive, and takes on a life of its own — all things that terrifies a narcissist. And with momentum, you expect more of those things as time goes by, not less.
Aunt Alex’s Army loves momentum. Momentum is powerful, positive, and takes on a life of its own — all things that energize and empower the Army. And here’s one way to get your own momentum rolling.
As you detach from the toxic fun-as-cholera psycho known as the narcissist, every day counts. Every hour that you don’t respond to him or have any contact with him at all, counts. This is because it gets easier with time, especially when you have supportive people, like friends and family and the Army, around you keeping you focused. You want those hours to grow into days, and you want those days to accumulate uninterrupted.
So, get yourself a calendar. Lots of businesses have them for free, especially this time of year. If you can’t find one or buy one right now, make one.
Every day that you don’t have contact with the narcissist, cross that day off with a big X. If you respond to the narcissist, or have contact with him in any way, don’t put an X on that day. What you’re looking for is a long chain of crossed-out days on your calendar, unbroken. This might not happen right away, but I promise you — as your rows of crossed-out days on your calendar grow, you’ll be able to see why it is that you’re feeling gradually healthier — and gradually better. Like you’re recovering from cholera.
If you’re the competitive type, put yourself to a 30-day challenge, of good eating, good projects, and staying the hell away from assclowns. Let the considerable power of momentum start to carry you along, as your commitment builds and shows itself, and the only rule is to take care of yourself.
:: Because Aunt Alex gets mail.
Dear Aunt Alex,
This is unbearable. I’ve failed at trying to make this relationship work, and I know he’s a narcissist, but I see something in him, something boyish and lovable. And he keeps coming back. Surely that means something? It’s great that women have Aunt Alex’s Army if they want it, but I don’t need army life, I just need a hug from him.
I know you want a hug from him, but would it help to get a big one from Aunt Alex? And some army cadets?
There are a lot of feelings going on in your letter, but the answer to it all is nestled right in there.
“I know he’s a narcissist…”
STOP! That, right there.
There isn’t a ‘but’ in the world that negates that part about his being a narcissist.
“Right, OK, but –”
Not one single thing. He’s a narcissist. That little fact changes everything. You didn’t fail at making anything work; he did. You don’t see boyishness in him, you see immaturity. You don’t see lovability in him, you see manipulation. And he keeps coming back because he wants to get things from you and use you. And, surely, what he does doesn’t mean anything.
Now, this hurts. Your heart is broken. And you definitely, positively need a hug. But looking for a hug from a narcissist, a warm, meaningful hug that isn’t coming with strings attached, is an exercise in futility and emotional disaster. A disaster which you, Kristin, are living right now. But look for that hug from people who genuinely care about you, and you’ll get the hug, the respect, the care, and the dignity and emotional reciprocity you deserve.
The photo of the double rainbow was taken near Army Headquarters, a narcissist-free zone. We get them here pretty frequently. Coincidence? I think not.
This week’s Friday Five — Five things that are WAY more likely than a narcissist ever changing for the better.
1. Dating a guy who’s saved the lives of two million babies.
2. Petting a unicorn whale.
3. Meeting a college freshman who’s 102 years old.
4. Four dogs destroying your truck, trying to chase a kitten.
5. Dating a guy whose house has been hit by meteorites six times.
This is fake, FYI, but some good fun. Just picture your local narcissist as the guy who hit the car full of grandmas, and then tried to blame it on them. Such a sweet story.