It’s been a rough few weeks! First I was sick, then just as I was finally on the mend from that, I managed to hurt myself. Best I can tell, I tore or strained something in my hip flexor. All I know for sure is, it hurt like hell to stand up or walk for a few days, and I had to hobble around with one hand pressed to my hip. All I needed was a cane, white hair, and to sit on the front porch shouting at kids to get off my lawn.
After some ice, a few days of rest, and some teasing (okay, a lot of teasing) from my husband, I seem to be back to walking upright and without grunting today. I still feel a bit tired, but I know that is not a residual effect of being sick; rather, it is due to my husband’s and my stubborn refusal to go to bed at a decent time, insisting we are not tired, then wondering why on earth we are still up at some ungodly hour.
Now I am left wondering exactly where the weekend went, because it flew by much too quickly. I guess the only thing left to do is focus on making this a great week…sleepy or not!
I came across this quote this morning, and I smiled because I felt like I really needed to see it right now:
I don’t want to ever lose sight of all of the positive things in my life for which I am actually very grateful, though I may not say it enough. Nothing that hate-filled people do or say will stop me from appreciating my sidekick, my best buddy, my husband, or all the ways he makes me smile and laugh and feel like the most loved and cherished woman in the world.
I adore our home and our yard, and how we have created and beautifully built all of it together.
I am grateful for the relationship we both have with my older stepson after so many jealous attempts to destroy that bond. We tried so hard to protect him for so many years; now we are helping him heal from deep wounds inflicted by people he should have been able to trust.
Yesterday I received some exciting news at work, and it’s not written in stone just yet, but there are some changes coming down the wire that definitely work in my favor. Let’s just say for now that it is evident my co-workers and supervisors value my hard work. After previously working for a company that basically took my skills and work ethic for granted, it is amazing to be appreciated and given credit for my effort.
Negative people will always be negative. They have nothing else to do and don’t know how else to be. They have nothing positive in their lives except the fake image they fabricate and thrust upon others. Is it any wonder they are reduced to siphoning light and love and happiness from our lives?
I won’t lower myself to being like them. I am better than that. The people I love deserve better than that from me. Whatever others choose, I choose happiness, growth, love, peace, laughter.
I have nothing to hide. Other people in the children’s lives cannot say the same, but that is on them, not me. I can’t imagine living a mockery of a sham life, one false prop stacked upon another, hoping the mask doesn’t slip too far, forcing others to read their lines and play their parts so everything doesn’t come crumbling down. Honesty and just being exactly who I am work best for me.
Part of my stalker’s obsession with my words is her need to control what is said about her, her need to force the narrative to support her lies. I know the truth, and the truth terrifies her, because all of her disgusting and shameful ugliness is laid bare to anyone willing to accept reality.
What is the truth? Let’s see. My youngest stepdaughter is failing three classes, has missed 20% of this school year, and has been suspended already. How is anyone supposed to overlook such obvious dysfunction and believe this woman has even a sliver of parenting ability or the slightest concern about the wellbeing of the children?
In time, the two middle children will be where the oldest one is now: still struggling with the reality that his own mother truly doesn’t care about anyone but herself, never has, and cannot be the mother he wants and needs. There is no way to prepare a child to face the ultimate reality that their mother is a selfish, manipulative parasite whose maternal skills were violently expelled with the placenta.
from Surviving the Narcissistic Parent: theinvisiblescar.wordpress.com
Since the kids were tiny, I have struggled with how to protect them, how to shield them from the agony of the day they fully open their eyes to what their mother really is. I have looked into their tearful faces as they ask why she lies so much. I have held them on my lap when they were scared and couldn’t possibly understand her rage or hurtful words. I have quietly listened as they got older and started to catch on that something about her is not right — other mothers don’t act like this — and are increasingly embarrassed by her behavior.
The kids are manipulated, lied to, jerked around, brainwashed, all to make their mother’s life easier, appease her ego, and maintain the façade that she is a decent human being and a wonderful mother. If the kids are chewed up, spit out, and destroyed in her attempt to make others believe she is something she is not, then so be it. She quite honestly doesn’t care about them, anyway.
I understand her desire to live a lie. Because the truth is, she is over 50 years old with no significant accomplishments, completely supported by her father, already long surpassed in adult accomplishments by my older stepson, and intensely disliked by anyone who has seen who she really is. Her delusions soothe her, comfort her into believing she is not an abysmal failure.
She knows the truth, though, no matter how much she promotes and defends her lies. She is too weak-willed to be motivated to improve herself or strive to be a better person, however, so she just lies some more and gets irrationally angry at anyone who refuses to swallow her fairy tale.
I know the truth. So does she. In time, so will the kids. That is the scariest, and most heartbreaking, part of all.
Sweat & Sparkle 