Monthly Archives: December 2017

Call me indispensable…

I logged in to a account yesterday, I don’t know why. Curiosity, boredom, intuition? I created the profile when a friend called me over to drink wine and create her own profile. I created it because hers was glitching so we were testing whether it was Match, wifi or whatever. I didn’t delete it.

I swiped right and left, feeling nauseous as I lingered in the place where people have become dispensable, where I have been dispensable. Throw them in a no pile or a yes pile. Go on a date all the while thinking Mr. Rightnow should be nookin4nub instead. Dispense and on to the next one.

So, I come to a profile, a “match”…clearly a first responder. When I click on it, a “More like this:” section appears. First profile up: firefighter. “Online now”. This is why I signed in. Intuition. The universe rattling my cage saying “End this, you deserve so much more than this! WTF are you doing girl?”

I’ve spent hours being a therapist, listening to someone pine for an ex who has already moved on. I’m happy to help, to listen, to be a shoulder. However, when you figure out someone is still in love with someone who still exists here among us, you have to remove yourself from the equation. Hours of being weighted down when I’m trying to live lightly and purely. I’m no runner up, I’m not here to compete with anyone else, I’m not some interim girl and I’m certainly not here to convince anyone of my worth. I will not do that ever again. I will not spend energy defending my worth and value.

I’ve only ever discovered heartache in online dating. Sociopaths, narcissists, and the awesomely unavailable or unattainable perhaps. God, I hope when I find him it’s at the grocery store, dentist’s office, gym or coffee shop. I have zero faith in the online world.

Four weeks after leaving the relationship, the narcissist was back on POF. It’s not a good feeling being dispensable to others.

Get back in the corner faith, you’re better off there for now. I’ll replace your blanket of fear with romantic love. That way, when it’s time, when you rejoin the other components of my heart, maybe I’ll feel the magic again and feel it’s real.

Until then…self-care and teenagers. That’s where my energy belongs.

“Belief makes things real…”

Christmas 2017, solo but not alone. Lonely at times but not alone. I have friends and family who love me, who add to my life and make it wonderful. Now that the narcissist is gone and I begin to purify my life, I’m making new friends and putting myself out there in social situations I would not have with the narcissist.

I have fun, I am loved, I have a good job. I’ve had a great life, never wanted for anything. The only thing missing right now is faith. It’s hard to have faith in romantic love and finding your person when you’ve spent a decade choosing very toxic, manipulative and abusive men.

I do not wallow in this on the daily. I go about my life smiling and enjoying the little moments as I always have. I find joy in random acts of kindness that allow others to feel special. I organized a Christmas stocking exchange for people single or alone on Christmas morning. That brought a smile to some. Particularly, a divorced mom who woke up without her daughter on Christmas morning. Waking up to a silent home on Christmas morning is a dark thing. She could not believe that strangers would reach out to brighten this time for her.

I made a stocking for the firefighter who otherwise would not have had one. This lead his 7 year old daughter to state “See daddy, Santa is real, he even brought you stuff you like.” That filled my heart.

I watched Miracle on 34th Street for the first time in my life on Christmas Day. I identified with the mother in a lot of ways, her skepticism but I took to heart the dialogue on faith versus doubt.

As I watched this Holiday classic, I received a text telling me there was something waiting for me on my doorstep. My heart pounded and I felt a rush of excitement. There was a beautiful bottle of wine and massage gift certificate. He snuck it up there knowing I would not want to have to explain it to my family. It’s the first time in 5 months, a gesture like that didn’t make me roll my eyes and want to run away. It’s something but it’ll take a lot more than that for my faith in true romance to be revived.

I don’t want days filled with doubt but with my track record skepticism is necessary.

I needed to see Miracle on 34th Street, it resonated with me. Helped coax a shattered piece of my heart out of the dark corner where it sought refuge 6 months ago. It rests there covered with a blanket of fear. Everyday, that piece takes in more and more light and eventually it will find its way back to the part of my heart where it belongs. It’s faith….

One day I will believe again.

Smile though…

Smile though your heart is aching…

Some days it is so much easier to do this than others. Some days you go to bed at 6pm only to wake up the next day and want to stay in bed. You get out of bed and climb back in. You read some blog posts of another. And then you kick your ass back out of bed…

Is it not taking my anti-anxiety medication, medication I did not require before the narcissist? Is it that I am just genuinely exhausted because I have no effing breaks from this life? Is it also that I have spent the last couple of days reading the blog of someone else and wishing that I had known that kind of love and loyalty just once in my forty two years? Is it that I read a blog post of October 2015 and remember how I interpreted it then and then laugh at myself? Whatever the fuck it is, these last two days have been a struggle!

Is writing this stuff down healing? Or does it just take me to that dark place, I cannot afford to go?

I look for quotes on Pinterest to find inspiration and I read what I know should resonate but it just reads as blah, blah, blah…

I think it’s partly Christmas approaching and as much as I will always believe in the magic of Christmas it terrifies me this year…

I will have to force myself to the gym tonight…show up for myself and kick the shit out of things for a bit…

Emergency contact

They say “bad luck, comes in threes”. I’m not sure I believe in luck when other people’s free will exists.

Last week, bullies were suspended from school for having cyber bullied one of my girls. I found out I need a tooth extracted due to a root fracture from dental work. Woke up Saturday morning to my car keyed and then picked up a huge nail in my brand new winter tire. The worst of this for me is managing the “fixes”. Without back up, these tasks feel monumental, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. I’m barely functioning on an average day. This is still better than living under a twisted, dictatorship regime.

Yesterday, I had a dental surgery consultation. Like most new medical scenarios, I had to fill out a questionnaire. Without intention, the form takes me to that place I avoid at all costs after the narcissist.

“Do you live alone?” Checked yes and instantly started feeling the pity party kickstart. My thoughts are “Is there free counselling to deal with having to answer yes to this? Great, now I feel like shit.” Worse was leaving the Emergency Contact information blank.

No emergency contact…that’s a terrific feeling. If I really wanted to, I could put my 70 year old Dad who cares for my mother 24/7 as she suffers with emphysema down…. I could text my best friend who lives on the other side of the city and ask to use her name… There are probably a handful of people who would accept the request. The Aries in me or the hurt inside me, stubbornly has me leaving it blank. Some kind of damaged human rebellion. I think about that blank space most of the day in between filing police reports and bringing baked goods to the guys who replaced my tire on Saturday.

While I’m working and in between phone calls from the firefighter who is being supportive after so much chaos in the last several days, I’m reflecting on the blank space. I’m reflecting on how I heal and not focus on that blank space?

My best friend is texting me about bringing baked goods to the tire guy calling it a “baking date”. This has me genuinely rolling my eyes. She is trying to play matchmaker and I’m not sure why? I explain to her that the thought of a date makes me physically ill. Flirtations cause the kind of eye rolling that one might only expect from an adolescent.

There’s a piece of my heart that hopes that some day the emergency contact information will not be blank. At the same time, I cannot imagine opening my heart and soul to someone. Love has become like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy to me. Something that seemed magical in my youth, capitalized on by Hollywood and Hallmark. Not real, not magical… I no longer subscribe to its “magic”.

I’m Googling dating after anarcissist, it all leads to dating yourself, selfcare and not using a man as a band aid. I come across a blog that tells me that this dating thing I’m doing with the firefighter is wrong.

“And she was way past male hook-ups, interactions and attention to simply fill the gaps until “someone better” came along.”

When Is It Safe To Date After Narcissistic Abuse? Part 1

I go to a staff Christmas get together and a colleague makes a point to introduce himself. Throwing in at some point that he is a single dad. This wee comment initiates profuse sweating for me. Fight or flight. In my world flirtation and acts of war are equivalent right now. Everyone in my section thinks it’s cute, “I’m rooting for this…” the women giggle. The guys from my pod, playfully tease me. I just keep saying how much sweat was happening.

I’m still happy, joking, silver lining Krista but I’m broken. Repair will be slow and cumulative….