Narcissism, Narcissistic Mother, Parental Narcissism

Stepfather’s Death

Almost 7yrs ago I moved in with my NM and her husband, the stepfather, to begin my disability process. After 3mos, my NM and said stepfather kicked me out to the curb. Because I was suppose to be putting the clean dishes away, instead of a disability doctor’s appointment. Anyways they made me homeless and told me I’m not ever wanted there. So, we pretty much haven’t spoken to each other since. Despite my efforts to reconnect with them.

Years prior to this, the stepfather cosigned on my car. Which I have long since paid off. But his cosign has put his name on my car plates and title. Over the course of these past 7yrs, I’ve tried to get him to sign a paper from the BMV, to release my car plates. Which he thinks I’m lying to him about any sort of thing.

So, the stepfather has passed away this past May. Which I wouldn’t of even known if it hadn’t been for my cousin posting it on her Facebook page. Because neither NM or the golden child sister has bothered to inform me.

It’s almost like I’m not suppose to know. I guess they are sending me a clear statement of just how unwanted I truly am to them. Though, surprisingly I was mentioned in his obituary.

I just want to remove his name from my title so they don’t know my where abouts. Then I can be out of their lives forever. Funny how they don’t want me around, but they sure want to know where I’m at.

So, I’m going to have to play NM’s little game of pretending I don’t know he’s dead. So, I haven’t contacted NM, or shown any signs that I know he’s dead. I’ll have to send off for his death certificate, just to get him off my car title. Cause she thinks I’m to stupid to figure this out.

I didn’t in any way go to his funeral. He was never anything more than an alcoholic drunk to me. Whom NM used as her flying monkey to further abuse me. In my eyes he’s always been less than nothing. Besides I wasn’t interested in watching NM’s charades on how much she loved him. When I know he was only a paycheck to pay her bills.

Though, I’d like to see the look on NM’s face next time she gets into the BMV website, and is denied access to my information. One of the tiny bitter, sweet moments when a narcissist tries to hold onto you as you finally break free.

I will never understand how a parent can be so cruel to the child, they brought into this world. Sadly, I guess you truly can’t make some people love you, if they choose not to. Just because you’re born to them, doesn’t mean they have to love you. Which hurts more than any scar I’ll ever carry in my soul.



​I’ve recently been seeing a lot of commercials, news stories, and articles about getting kids to read books. I know when I was growing up (70’s), there was a pull to get kids to read due to illiteracy. Has that become an issue again, with all our modern technology?

I remember when I was young, adds for parents to read to their children. It helps makes a stronger bond between parent and child. I would of loved if my single, narcissistic mother would of taken the time to read to me.

But, I got lucky, that I had a teacher, who use to read to the class. She made me feel so special, that someone would take the time to read to me. Not to mention, how she opened up a whole new world to me. I still remembered how I looked so forward to the weekly reading in this class. I’d lay my head down on my desk, close my eyes, and get lost in another world.

After that, reading became my very best friend. Growing up with a narcissist parent, there was always a lot of chaos going on. Books and reading very quickly became my escape from the realities of my life. For a short time, I could become someone else in a different world. Getting lost in a character made me feel like I wasn’t alone, or the only one going through the same situations in life. Here was someone that understood me, even if they weren’t a real person.

As I got a little older, I shared my passion for reading with my siblings, by reading to them. I wanted them to feel the same joy I had gotten form someone reading to me. During the summer, we would ride our bikes to the local library. Which became a special place for me, with all those books of knowledge, and imagination. So, you can guess my obsession, when the internet came around later. Giving me the world at my fingertips.

By the time I was a teenager, I always had a book in my hand, that went everywhere with me. Surprisingly enough, my narc mother didn’t care what I was reading by this time. Which was the adult, sexually explicate, romance novels. As a naive teenager, these books became my source of sex, morals, and relationship education.

There was always something so intimate about curling up with a good book, that could give you hope for something missing in your own life. Reading made me realize, I could be anyone I wanted to be, once I was old enough to be on my own. I didn’t have to be what a narc mother projected into me to be. I could make my own choices.

The saddest part about a book is when you’ve reached the end of it. It’s time to put that friend on the shelf for another day. I have re-read many books. At different stages of my life, I’ve connected with different parts of a book previously read. Again finding a friend that understood me and what I’m going through at the time.

Some books have helped me escape reality, teach me about myself and the world around me, given me a different prospective on life, or just plan made me think. But most of all, books have been a friend that has always been there for me when no one else was. They have taught me compassion and who I wanted to be as a person. It also gave me a safe place to explore my own imagination, in a world with no limits.

Get lost in a good book.



Like the rest of the country, I’ve been hearing about all these Civil War Memorials being taken down or removed. The more it happens, the more it’s troubling me. So, I wanted to voice some thoughts to ponder on.

I would think, that depending on your background and beliefs, each of these memorials would mean something different to each person. Do we really think about them, and what they represent, when we can’t pay our bills, because we’re unemployed?

Washington and Jefferson are on Mt Rushmore. Though they were slave owners. They also gave our country the things that make us what we are today.  Are we going to blow it up, to remove it?

Now, don’t get me wrong,  I do understand the duress these memorials cause for the Afro American communities. Slavery was a horrible time in our American history. Kind of like Americas version of Hitler against Jews. With unspeakable acts against humanity.

Maybe, only the face of slavery has changed. Don’t we all live in some form of slavery, with poverty, bills, government, hatred, fear, and so on? When did we start letting our past define who we are now? Could that be keeping us from our greatest potential, in the future?

A couple of years ago, I watched a show on PBS about the evolution of mankind. Anthropologist and archeologist have found human bones, in Africa, dating back 63 thousand years. Making them the oldest bones ever found. Evolution of all man starts in Africa. Wouldn’t that mean that we have a little black DNA in all of us? Only our skin color changed due to the reigns that we migrated to.

My personal opinion is these memorials should stay, as a constant reminder of our past curel history. So, hopefully we won’t repeat it. I think taking them down is sweeping it under the rug, to hide it. Which I think belittles the ancestors of slavery, of all the courage they had to survive horrific odds against them. Isn’t that the real and true sense of the American Spirit of our country? Maybe, we should be more inspired by the slaves and their struggles, along with our forefathers.  To be more grateful for what we have now. That out struggles are not as great, as those that came before us.



I’ve had this girlfriend for the last couple years. She’s always been telling me to put myself,  and my  needs before other people’s. The irony is, when I do put my needs first, she has the nerve to get angry with me.

I’ve also started to see other things in our relationship too. Like all the negative things she says about other people, and life in general. I’ve tried to be supportive and help her find solutions. But she seems more interested in me joining in her personal pity party. Which in turn depresses me. Now, I don’t mind helping. But, this is becoming every time we talk lately.

Another thing I’ve noticed is how she disrespectfully interrupts me when I’m talking. This really annoys me. Several times, I’ve explained to her that I can’t hear her when she talks over me. Which doesn’t seem to matter to her.

Not to mention our conversations have become extremely one sided. She’ll talk my leg off, as long as it’s her saying what she wants to talk about. When I want to talk about something, other than her, she has to go. It’s like she just wants to hear herself talk, by talking at me, not with me.

A few months back, I tried to get a little emotion support with a difficult time in my life. She pretty much blew me off, by saying she couldn’t help me.

Just the other day, I had something I was excited about. Upon sharing it with her, she made no comment about it, and went back to talking about herself. It was like I never said anything at all. She couldn’t even be happy with me.

Since then, I’ve stopped telling her anything going on in my life. She’s made it pretty clear to me that she really doesn’t care about me. If anything, I think it bothers her that I’m trying to improve my life and happiness.

On our last conversation over her interrupting me. Which, she interrupted. When that didn’t work, she just hung up on me (not the first time that’s happened). She usually gives me the silent treatment, and pouts for about a week. Even after I’ve called and left a message, she is continuing her silent treatment. Then, when something new happens in her life, usually something negative, she calls again. If I don’t answer, her tone gets pretty nasty towards me, by leaving derogatory messages.

So, while rummaging around WP (WordPress), I found all these articles on Toxic Relationships/Friendships. Not only did it open my eyes that this is what I’ve been dealing with. It also showed me how all the negatively was also making me a toxic person too. I now can see this isn’t in the best interest of my well being, happiness, or personal growth.

Though, I’d like nothing more than to tell her off right now. It’s probably better to let dead dogs lay, so to speak. Since she didn’t return my message, or we haven’t spoken in several days now. I’d have to say this one sided friendship has run it’s course. I have grieved the loss, and am starting to move forward again.

In this time, I’ve felt better, become more motivated, had more time to do what I enjoy, and just plan felt like a happier person. I had no idea how much her negativity had influenced my life. I can honesty say, now that I know about toxic friendships, I’ll be more informed next time.


Naive ???

A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to the news on the radio. The storyline was about an older man, in a wheelchair, that had been arrested for selling illegal drugs, while living at government housing. Upon interviewing another tenant that lived there, it was said this man sold drugs there for some time. Leading to the impression that this was nothing new and common knowledge by everyone that lived at this complex.

What really bewildered me, was the commentator of this story, seemed to be surprised and in shock that such a thing could possibly ever happen. Like really, why not? Just because that person is old or handicapped, doesn’t give them a free pass to break the law. Being old or handicapped doesn’t make them exempt from being bad or criminal people. If anything, their poverty makes it justifiable to them. After all, they have nothing to loose.

In my experience, it’s a source of income for those living in government housing. Even the property manager looks the other way most of the time, while telling you to call the police, whom do nothing either.

I know on most nights, in the building that I live in, it smells more like a marijuana factory, instead of a retirement community. The times that I’ve called the police, with the smell so strong, it’s funny how the police don’t smell a thing, or do anything about it. All awhile, those with breathing or other health problems, are made sicker from second hand fumes, in their own home. For myself personally, it wakes me up with vomiting and a migraine. 

Illegal drugs is big business, along with theft. I have come to the conclusion, if you want illegal drugs, or cheap stolen merchandise, government housing is the place to get it. Go figure?