To Vato With Love

Bros and Biddies, Hombres y Mujeres – VATO – why so goddamn afraid of my voice…OUR voice, THEIR voice? Is it because you fear, now that we are finally armed with knowledge and power, we will do to you what you have done to us? Relax, Vato. Calm down. How is it after all this time you still do not know who I AM?

————————————————————————————-

–When someone says, “We’re saying the same thing.”
Say, “We are not saying the same thing.”

–When someone says, “Don’t question, just have faith.”
Say, “I am questioning, vato, and I have supreme faith in what I think.”

–When someone says, “Don’t defy my authority.”
Say, “There is a higher authority that I follow.”

–When someone says, “Your ideas are seductive.”
Say, “No, my ideas are not seductive, they are substantial.”

–When someone says, “Your ideas are dangerous.”
Say, “Yes, my ideas are dangerous, and why are you so afraid hombre o mujer? ”

–When it is said, “It’s just not done.”
Say, “It will be done.”

–When it is said, “It is immature.”
Say, “All life begins small and must be allowed to grow.”

–When it is said, “It’s not thought out.”
Say, “It is well thought out.”

–When they say, “You’re over-reacting.”
Say, “You’re under-reacting, vato.”

–When they say, “You’re being emotional.”
Say, “Of course I have well placed emotions, and by the way, what happened to yours?”

–When they say, “You’re not making any sense.”
Say, “I don’t make sense, I am the sense.”

–When they say, “I can’t understand you when you’re crying.”
Say, “Make no mistake, I can weep and be fierce at the same time.”

–When they say, “I cant understand you when you’re being so angry.”
Say. “You couldn’t hear me when I was being nice, or sweet or silent, either.”

–When someone says, “You’re missing the point.”
Say, “I’m not missing the point, but you seem to be missing my point — What are you so afraid of?”

–When someone says, “You are breaking the rules.”
Say, “Yes, I am breaking the rules.”

–When someone says, “That’s not practical.”
Say, “It’s practically a done deal, thank you very much.”

–When it is said, “No one will do it, believe you, or follow it.”
Say, “I will do it, I will believe in it, and in time, the world may well follow it.”

— When it is said, “No one wants to listen to that.”
Say, “I know you have a hard time listening to that.”

–When it is said, “It’s a closed system, you cant change it.”

Say, “I’m going to knock twice and if there is no answer, then I am going to blow the doors off that system and it will change.”

–When it is said, “They’ll ignore you.”
Say, “They won’t ignore me and the hundreds of thousands who stand with me.”

–When they say, “It’s already been done.”
Say, “It’s not been done well enough.”

— When they say, “It’s not yet time.”
Say, “It’s way past time.”

–When they say, “It’s not the right day, right month, right year.”
Tell them, “The right year was last year, and the right month was last month, and the right day was yesterday, and you’re running behind schedule, vato, and what in the name of God and all that is holy are you going to do about it?”

–When they say, “Who do you think you are?” —
tell them …tell them who you are, and don’t hold back.

–When they say, “I put up with it, you’ll have to put up with it too.”
Say, “No, no, no, no.”

–When they say, “I’ve suffered a long time and you’ll have to suffer too.”
Say, “No, no, no, no.”

–When they say, “You’re an incorrigible, defiant, hard to get along with, unreasonable woman … ”

Say, “Yes, yes, yes, yes …and I have worse news for you yet–we are teaching our daughters, and our mothers, and our sisters…we are teaching our sons, and our fathers, and our brothers,

to be
just
like
us.

Go and do likewise in your own ways dear brave souls: Tribe of the Sacred Heart, many of us Scar Clan.

With deepest love for your soul who knows the way… has always known the way… Now is the time for deep prayer and effective actions…

Creator bless all the children who stand for us all, all the older people who stand for all the children, for everyone of learning heart and truth-seeking mind.

– Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

YOU CAN, BUT I CANNOT

YOU CAN, BUT I CANNOT

You can
call me names,
call out my flaws,
falsify what
you never saw,
slap my jaw,
parade around
man of straw,
throw me around,
for I’ve no quick-draw,

try to ice me with your cold,
so I can never thaw,
fling me down
some endless maw,
act as though my gifts from G-d
are no reason for dropping jaw,
tell me my words matter not,
that I just hem and haw,
you say nothing happened
when it was stars I saw.

You can
throw me to the floor,
bang my head
against the door,
slam my hands
in the drawer,
overwhelm my pleas
with your roar,
take my oars
so I can’t reach shore,
take everything I’ve got–
demand you’re owed more,
slash my sails
so I cannot soar,
insist my plea for life
is to you, an act of war.

You can
try to erase me,
try to outpace me,
you can bellow
I wont escape the chase,
you can put me away
in a lonely place,
tell me I ought not
show my face,
take from my deck,
for yourself, all the aces,
you can cram me
into your personal vases,
bad mouth me
tell everyone
I deserve no kindly spaces.

You can strip me of
my dignity,
toss my corpse
away abhorrently,
you can try to force
me to act abortively,
you can say the truths
I tell, are absurdities,

But I promise you this
though you can
try to break me,
my heart and more,
tho you call me a whore,
tell me I am wrong
to the core…

you cannot have
the Sun inside me
the One who glows
all the more–
no matter what comes,
no matter what goes–
You cannot still,
nor stop the Sun
that glows inside me.

Even in blood,
this Sun shines,
even surrounded by black,
this Sun grows the vine,
even though you try to
take from me ‘my Thine’
even though you
hurl and break my holy shrines,
this Sun is in no decline,
this Sun is my sign
that my soul is safe times nine.

You can take what is takeable,
even as you maim my heart,
try to tame my wild,
break my smile.
But no matter what
no matter the trials,
no matter those who make fun,
take joy, in my being shunned,
I cannot give you my Sun.

I cannot,
will never, as long as
there is breath,
even as you attempt
to demean me by stealth,
for my Sun is
my insurrection against death,
my Light will one day I pray,
bring me again
to a new day
of complete resurrection.

_________________

The poem YOU CAN, BUT I CANNOT, ©1965, 2016, by clarissa pinkola estés

Winter is Coming

Two years ago this day. The death blow came from the back and it was inflicted by my husband. The kids and I were always (and continue to be) the sacrifice the Bros of God are willing to make to save and advance themselves. Lil added bonus content if you open the original post and scroll down to the end in the comment section for anyone who gives a crap. The kids and I no longer do. As for me and my house, it is Spring.

Cages and Keys

Winter is coming. Those damn Starks have been telling us so forever, but we grew tired of hearing it and dismissed them as crying wolf (insert GOT fan groan).

But winter is coming, and it’s coming for me, so I might as well go out with all the drama and flare of a butchered Jon Snow…bleeding out, lying motionless, fading to black.

In my physical world, it is autumn, which in central California means this morning was the first time my kids and I broke out a light sweater to walk to school with a predicted high temp of 79…may the gods, old and new, sustain us.

Autumn, however muted in this part of the country, still retains an element of anticipation and haunting beauty as a prelude to death; a transitional season leading us out of one extreme and into another. There’s a whisper in the (ever so slightly chilled) air…

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The Terrorist

terrorist

It all boils down to a stock photo. That’s all there is or ever was to it.

 

My Littermate writes (until such a time as I can/will again) – “Ever been in a relationship where the other significant person is like a terrorist? Just…walks around all the time with a relational suicide vest on, and ya never know when they will thumb that trigger and just friggin’ blow up and just wreak havoc on all…even those with nothing to do with it…
I wrote this in 2013 with that image in mind.
At the time I was writing to transphobic people/person(s)…but in light of my recently becoming aware of the personality disorder of the Sociopathic Narcissist, I think it fits there too.”

Charissa's Grace Notes

BACK!  Git Back,
Burka Bound Bitch!
you dare to undrape
and go graceful and glad?

You are nothing but
double trouble and toil
and you violate my space
with your notions of liberty.

I SWEAR!  Ima
BLOW MYSELF UP!
Ima blow you up!
Iffn I don’t git my way.

Your soul belongs to me,
your heart, keep it hidden and draped
in my fables of your self!
You undraped is the universe
shitting on me special

(I’m soo special the
fucking UNIVERSE makes a point
to shit on me!!)

You uncocooned
is affront, threat!
Fingers jammed
into my ears
and palms over
eyes and mouth
you are
seeevil-
hearevil-
speakevil!

You have no place like me…
for I have been
natural borned
to my bone crusted throne!
Earned by springing from
the spiritual loins of
My Ancestors…
the great woman haters of history…
the great race haters of history…
the great religion haters of…

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No Freedom Without Love, No Love Without Pain

pain

I firmly believe this. All addiction to hate and control (the mechanics of narcissism and addictive behavior in general) is deferred and projected personal pain. This awareness allows me to forgive and have compassion for those who despise and harm me, but it doesn’t mean I have to offer myself up to take it. For almost 3 decades in marriage and ministry I took it like a good girl – literally a thousand other people’s projected insecurities and pain – and almost died (as did my oldest 2 children). I take no one’s deferred shit ever again. I will embrace and deal with my own pain and failures and exorcise my demons out in the open and out loud as I’ve always done. It’s the only way for me to avoid drowning and being assimilated into a culture of callous dehumanization (and not want to kill roughly half the population of America that seems intent and content to kill and silence me and my loved ones).

I’ve discovered my superpower – An insanely high pain tolerance and compulsion to run straight at that bitch – name it, dissect it from every angle, and own it until it manifests as love.

No Freedom
Take it by your silence
That I’m free to walk out the door
By the look in your eyes I can tell
You don’t think I’ll be back for more
Try to think of the world
Where you could stay and these safe hands could go
Take your heart above the water
Wherever I choose to go
No love without freedom
No love without freedom
No love without freedom
No freedom without love
Even when you don’t see me
Even when you don’t hear
I’ll be flying low below the sun
And you’ll feel it all out here
No love without freedom
No love without freedom
No love without freedom
No freedom without love
No love without freedom
No love
———————————————–
No freedom without love, no love without acknowledging and embracing the pain of our unique-to-every-individual human damage.

Killing Liberty Grace

Everything I wrote about coming out of church world was/is a prophetic direct parallel to coming out of my abusive marriage, none more so than this one from 2 years ago this day. I now know at the time of this writing he’d already dove hard and I was walking dead. Today I sing “Fuck This Shit I’m Out” as a beautiful, rowdy benediction. Won’t you stand and join me?

Cages and Keys

Meet my big-thinker Mini Me, Liberty Grace. I’ve never been so in love with a name…almost as much as the girl. As much as I laud reason and practicality in my expressions of faith, there’s always been a significant vein of mysticism and natural contemplative spirituality winding through me too. I truly consider my daughter’s name to be prophetic. It was while I was pregnant with her that the first rumblings began…a stirring within me that God was up to something new for us, something powerful and free. God was indeed going to fulfill my lifelong yearning to experience Them in fullness and abundance, but there was going to be an extreme price to pay. Was I willing?


THE SPIRIT OF LIBERTY GRACE

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.

I’d ached and prayed for this since I was 16, but now…

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I Don’t Miss Him

fire

 

Is it any wonder I relate to Charissa’s awakening and transition so hard? I (and quite possibly one or both of my adult children) would have died had she not appeared at the exact moment everything I’d depended on as “love” went toxic malignant. There are 150 or so people I have surgically removed from my life who would have been perfectly OK with and even preferred our quiet deaths to experiencing the slightest discomfort of reality themselves (all of them “Christian” and most of them Trump supporters). I don’t miss them. I don’t miss him – any more than one would miss cancer once in remission. I surely have missed me. 27 years is a long time to be separated, dissociated, dismembered, disconnected from the reality of love. Feeling weak and disoriented as one does waking from a fever dream, but I am awake and on the mend and relieved to be so.

Charissa's Grace Notes

Ima go ahead now,
pick up glowy embers
radiant and stinky
with the fires of days
long past…pick them up

with new hands and tender
soft flesh that has never
known shackles and chains,
calluses, rough edges.

Don’t gasp, they can’t hurt me!
I’m alive now, and wreathed
in grace and I’m shrouded
in mysteries of mercy
falling on the hungry

hard flames of agony.
See?  There they are…
the remnants of him,
gone at last, and frankly
I don’t miss him at all,

in the slightest, and really
all I had in common
with him was this body,
“Guffaw of the Universe”,
but not him, nothing

in common with him…well
except air, we both breathe
air…well, I breathe air, but
he doesn’t anymore…breathe.
And I don’t miss him.tumblr_nvg937KivG1qdxn3oo1_r1_1280

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Agony of Light

Originally posted December 27, 2016. September 27, 2017, nine months to the day, I will be spreading my wings and escaping the darkness forever as it no longer has any hold on me. No one can hold on to Nothing. The detox is complete. I am clean, clear and free.

——————————————————————————————————–

The hardest part is not the darkness. No. You can still imagine things to look much better than you feel them to be in the shadows; imagine things to be what you wish them to be, need them to be, want them to be.

No, it’s the light that is devastatingly hard and why most avoid all but selective exposure. One cannot pretend in the light for their own comfort or false notions of safety or perfection.

I brought (have been bringing) my entire self into the light for a while now. I was not in any way prepared for the very last things to come out, which in actuality were THE thing it’s all been leading up to. I guess it would be more accurate to say I was finally ready to see BECAUSE of all I’ve been through – to have to acknowlege just how dependent I’ve been on “love” in the shadows – the idea of something I wanted it to be verses the reality of what it actually is.

My physical circumstances have more or less been the same for quite a while and will not be radically changing. I’ve been sleeping (when I’m lucky) and crying alone in bed and have been carrying the bulk of child raising for years.

But what is the thing that terrifies and crushes me? It’s the exposure of an idea that I’ve clung to my whole life as false that causes the most intense pain I’ve ever experienced. What a strange thing to admit…to be violently detoxing from the loss of an idea like it was heroin. But that’s exactly what it feels like. I’ve needed someone to be something they could never be and I numbed and sabotaged and stole from myself, denied my instincts and my true knowing and handed over my power in order to get and keep the fix I thought I couldn’t live without – to believe he was what he was not and could not be – to place an impossible burden on him. It’s what we’re all conditioned to do to each other. He and I are, and have always been, extreme cases. We don’t do subtle…ever.

In the light, there is only love most real for whole persons (myself first) separate from any selfishly projected ideas or expectations of them. It is a brutal, brutal detox to let go of my desires and let it all be whatever it will while resisting the urge to counter spin in my favor as every fiber of my being screams for resolution and relief!! But the light is no fix. It is the abrupt and harsh exposure of what truly IS.

I have to let whatever IS – BE…hands off…free to be and do and be seen for what it is by whoever can and will.

The darkness will kill ya, but damn do I miss how good it felt even at its worst compared to this. The light feels every bit like torture and death right now.

I have moments of unprecedented clarity and calmness that punctuate the baseline aching void of despair that at times swells so intensely I feel like I could literally drown in the feeling of loss and fear and “I DON’T WANT THIS!”

God, please have mercy and get me through this withdrawal to a place of peace, wholeness and love in myself. 45 years worth is a lot to work out of my system to get clean.

The only way out is through and there is no going back or unseeing. Woe to those who have seen and known the light and then reject and deny it. That is the blackest self-imposed darkness rooted in a self-loathing lie that will kill all ability to genuinely love or accept love permanently.

I exposed the love of my life, so entrenched and enmeshed in my being, to the light he once used to guide me to, and then began to let go as a final (and first, really) act of unselfish love for him. To do so meant the death of my addiction and codependency and sent me reeling into this tortuous detox. There is nothing but pain for me in it. He has kicked and screamed and spat and spun violently all the way because he knows I will not and cannot hide anything anymore. It all comes into the light, but I cannot keep him with me there.

Whether in light or darkness, he is who he is and will always be the love of my life.

Into the fire we all must go, one way or the other, and we all must go alone. All I can do is be my own light and to do so I must burn.

Mama, Help Me

What It Means When A Narcissist Says, “I Love You.”

 

WHAT IT MEANS WHEN A NARCISSIST SAYS “I LOVE YOU”

Dear Codependent Partner,

What I’m about to say is not something I’d ever say or admit (to you), because to do so would end the winner-takes-all-game that is my main source of pleasure in life — one that effectively keeps you carrying my load in our relationship.

And that’s the whole point.

When I say “I love you” I mean that I love how hard you work to make me feel like your everything, that I am the focus of your life, that you want me to be happy, and that I’ll never be expected to do the same.

I love the power I have to take advantage of your kindness and intentions to be nice, and the pleasure I derive when I make myself feel huge in comparison to you, taking every opportunity to make you feel small and insignificant.

I love the feeling it gives me thinking of you as weak, vulnerable, emotionally fluffy, and I love looking down on you for your childlike innocence and gullibility, as weakness.

I love the way I feel knowing that, through the use of gaslighting, what you want to discuss or address will never happen, and I love this “power” to train you to feel “crazy” for even asking or bringing up issues that don’t interest me, effectively, ever lowering your expectations of me and what I’m capable of giving you, while I up mine of you.

I love how easy it is to keep your sole focus on alleviating my pain (never yours!), and that, regardless what you do, you’ll never make me feel good enough, loved enough, respected enough, appreciated enough, and so on. (Misery loves company.)

(It’s not about the closeness, empathy, emotional connection you want, or what I did that hurt or embarrassed you, or how little time I spend engaged with you or the children, and so on. It’s about my status and doing my job to keep you in your place, in pain, focused on feeling my pain, blocking you from feeling valued in relation to me. I’m superior and entitled to all the pleasure, admiration, and comforting between us, remember?)

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when you are with me, more specifically, regarding you as a piece of property I own, my possession. Like driving a hot car, I love the extent to which you enhance my status in the eyes of others, letting them know that I’m top dog, and so on. I love thinking others are jealous of my possessions.

I love the power I have to keep you working hard to prove your love and devotion, wondering what else you need to do to “prove” your loyalty.

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when I’m with you. Due to how often I hate and look down on others in general, the mirror neurons in my brain keep me constantly experiencing feelings of self-loathing; thus, I love that I can love myself through you, and also love hating you for my “neediness” of having to rely on you or anyone for anything.

I love that you are there to blame whenever I feel this “neediness”; feeling scorn for you seems to protect me from something I hate to admit, that I feel totally dependent on you to “feed” my sense of superiority and entitlement, and to keep my illusion of power alive in my mind.

(Nothing makes me feel more fragile and vulnerable than not having control over something that would tarnish my image and superior status, such as when you question “how” I treat you, as if you still don’t understand that getting you to accept yourself as an object for my pleasure, happy regardless of how I treat you, or the children  — is key proof of my superiority, to the world. You’re my possession, remember? It’s my job to teach you to hate and act calloused toward those “crazy” things that only “weak” people need, such as “closeness” and “emotional stuff;” and by the way, I know this “works” because my childhood taught me to do this to myself inside.)

It makes me light up with pleasure (more proof of my superiority) that I can easily get you flustered, make you act “crazy” over not getting what you want from me, make you repeat yourself, and say and do things that you’ll later hate yourself for (because of your “niceness”!). Everything you say, any hurts or complaints you share, you can be sure, I’ll taunt you with later, to keep you ever-spinning your wheels, ever trying to explain yourself, ever doubting yourself and confused, trying to figure out why I don’t “get” it.

(There’s nothing to get! To break the code, you’d have to look through my lens, not yours! It’s my job to show complete disinterest in your emotional needs, hurts, wants, and to train, dismiss and punish accordingly, until you learn your “lesson,” that is: To take your place as a voiceless object, a possession has no desire except to serve my pleasure and comfort, and never an opinion on how its treated!)

(That you can’t figure this out, after all the ways I’ve mistreated you, to me, is proof of my genetic superiority. In my playbook, those with superior genes are never kind, except to lure and snare their victims!)

I love that I can make you feel insecure at the drop of a hat, especially by giving attention to other women (perhaps also others in general, friends, family members, children, etc. … the list is endless). What power this gives me to put a display of what you don’t get from me, to taunt and make you beg for what I easily give to others, wondering why it’s so easy to give what you want to others, to express feelings or affection, to give compliments, that is, when it serves my pleasure (in this case, to watch you squirm).

I love the power I have to get you back whenever you threaten to leave, by throwing a few crumbs your way, and watching how quickly I can talk you into trusting me when I turn on the charm, deceiving you into thinking, this time, I’ll change.

“I love you” means I need you because, due to the self-loathing I carry inside, I need someone who won’t abandon me that I can use as a punching bag, to make myself feel good by making them feel bad about themselves. (This is how I pleasure myself, and the way I numb, deny the scary feelings I carry inside that I hope to never admit, ever. I hate any signs of weakness in me, which is why I hate you, and all those I consider inferior, stupid, feeble, and so on.)

“I love you” means that I love fixing and shaping your thoughts and beliefs, being in control of your mind, so that you think of me as your miracle and savior, a source of life and sustenance you depend on, and bouncing back to, like gravity, no matter how high you try to fly away or jump.

I love that this makes me feel like a god, to keep you so focused (obsessed…) with making me feel worshiped and adored, sacrificing everything for me to prove yourself so that I don’t condemn you, seeking to please none other, and inherently, with sole rights to administer rewards and punishments as I please.

I love how I can use my power to keep you down, doubting and second-guessing yourself, questioning your sanity, obsessed with explaining yourself to me (and others), professing your loyalty, wondering what’s wrong with you (instead of realizing that … you cannot make someone “happy” who derives their sense of power and pleasure from feeling scorn for others … and you!).

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when I see myself through your admiring eyes, that you’re my feel-good drug, my dedicated audience, my biggest fan and admirer, and so on. You, and in particular, your looking up to me, unquestionably, as your never-erring, omniscient, omnipotent source of knowledge is my drug of choice. (You may have noticed how touchy I am at any signs of being question; yes, I hate how fragile I feel at any sign of thinking that you, or the world, could judge me as having failed to keep my possessions in line.)

And I love that, no matter how hard you beg and plead for my love and admiration, to feel valued in return, it won’t happen, as long as I’m in control. Why would I let it, when I’m hooked on deriving pleasure from depriving you of anything that would be wind beneath your wings, risking you’d fly away from me? It gives me great pleasure to not give you what you yearn for, the tenderness you need and want, and to burst your every dream and bubble, then telling myself, “I’m no fool.”

I love that I can control your attempts to get “through” to me, by controlling your mind, in particular, by shifting the focus of any “discussion” onto what is wrong with you, your failure to appreciate and make me feel loved, good enough — and of course, reminding you of all I’ve done for you, and how ungrateful you are.

I love how I skillfully manipulate others’ opinions of you as well, getting them to side with me as the “good” guy, and side against you as the “bad” guy, portraying you as needy, never satisfied, always complaining, selfish and controlling, and the like.

I love how easy it is for me to say “No!” to what may provide you a sense of value and significance in relation to me, with endless excuses, and that I instead keep your focus on my needs and wants, my discomforts or pain.

I love feeling that I own your thoughts, your ambitions, and ensuring your wants and needs are solely focused on not upsetting me, keeping me happy.

I love being a drug of choice you “have to” have, regardless of how I mistreat you, despite all the signs that your addiction to me is draining the energy from your life, that you are at risk of losing more and more of what you most value, and hold dear, to include the people you love, and those who love and support you.

I love that I can isolate you from others who may nourish you, and break the spell, and I love making you mistrust them, so that you conclude no one else really wants to put up with you, but me.

I love that I can make you feel I’m doing you a favor by being with you and throwing crumbs your way. Like a vacuum, the emptiness inside me is in constant need of sucking the life and breath and vitality you bring to my life, which I crave like a drug that can never satisfy, that I fight to hoard, and hate the thought of sharing.

While I hate you and my addiction to your caring attention, my neediness keeps me craving to see myself through your caring eyes, ever ready to admire, adore, forgive, make excuses for me, and fall for my lies and traps.

I love that you keep telling me how much I hurt you, not knowing that, to me, this is like a free marketing report, which lets me know how effective my tactics have been to keep you in pain, focused on alleviating my pain — so that I am ever the winner in this competition — ensuring that you never weaken (control) me with your love- and emotional-closeness stuff.

In short, when I say “I love you,” I love the power I have to remain a mystery that you’ll never solve because of what you do not know (and refuse to believe), that: the only one who can win this zero-sum-winner-takes-all game is the one who knows “the rules.” My sense of power rests on ensuring you never succeed at persuading me to join you in creating a mutually-kind relationship because, in my worldview, being vulnerable, emotionally expressive, kind, caring, empathetic, innocent are signs of weakness, proof of inferiority.

Thanks, but no thanks, I’m resolved to stay on my winner-takes-all ground, ever in competition for the prize, gloating in my narcissistic ability to be heartless, callous, cold, calculating … and proud, to ensure my neediness for a sense of superiority isn’t hampered.

Forever love-limiting,

Your narcissist

By   for TheMindsJournal