Tag: narcissism

Why am I this sensitive?
What’s the point?

Not sure what my empathic radius includes, often feels like a football field or two. Households, individuals mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, cleaning the gutters, it feels like they’re sitting inside my studio, right next to me. How is this beneficial?

How does this do anything for me?

Living underneath my mother’s roof was the worst, an onslaught of alarms, bells and whistles, indicating my unsafe environment, the narcissism. Living with my codependent father, sociopathic mother, covertly narcissistic sister, and my brother and his covertly narcissistic wife. Alarms after intuitive alarms, indicating future problems, conflicts, uproars. Never ending.

I couldn’t take a shower without having a panic attack, the perfect opportunity to plant audio and listening devices while I’m occupied. My mother did this, of course, surveillance, how do I know? It’s partly how I learned about intuition, waking up in the middle of the night; dreams of surveillance trucks and the CIA, sweating, chest thumping, channeling the thoughts “you are being watched”.

When my brother and I smoked DMT in my bedroom, and he looked at me immediately and said, “They are listening, somebody is listening”.

See during COVID, I exposed my mother’s narcissism. Days before the shutdown, actually.
A few months into analysis, and my mother complex came to light, codependency off the leash. After a ketamine infusion, I went to sleep and awoke violently realizing the real cause of my mental illness, my parents. Suddenly years of therapy accumulated into an uppercut, smacking my teeth, and rupturing my world view. I awoke and realized I had been suppressing rage, anger, seething.

I tore downstairs, threw a couple objects, caused extremely little damage, and accused my mother of being less than satisfactory, accusing her for my damaged mental health.

How did she respond?

By destroying credit cards, debit cards, Costco cards, etc. and then blaming me. To this day, it’s still a topic of conversation. “Yeah just like how I destroyed those credit cards,” an attempt to convince my dad to kick me from the house, to show my destruction. Dumb. I was penalized.

Then began a campaign designed to track and monitor my progress in analysis, my mother’s greatest foe. Can’t forget the time I lost my wallet, and asked if anybody had seen it, to which my brother asked if I’d checked my car. My mom panicked and said, “I’ll come help you,” slipped into the parking lot and immediately went searching in my car, grabbed an item from underneath the seat, and slid the object into her pocket.

What was this object?

Since COVID shutdown the world, I was doing analysis in my car, talking to my therapist from the safety of closed doors and windows. However, after a few sessions, I noticed something was off. My therapist, who attended Woodstock, would discuss his experiences in great detail, and when I returned home after a conversation, my mom neurotically started talking to me about Woodstock. This wasn’t the first and only time.

Many times when I’d talk shit on my Mom, when she was outside of the house, she’d return completely silence, choosing to make dinner in a quiet, palpable anger, because she returned from overhearing our conversations.

Remember, I’m intuitive so I can feel these vibes, this tension.

I accused my mother of being a narcissist and then BAM, lockdown.

My parents created a neurosis. We must stay in separate parts of the house.
I exposed my family’s narcissism, but it was too difficult to process, so my dad used COVID as a neurosis to burry himself behind the walls of one living-room, and never returned, watching mainstream media every single day, cursing Donald Trump, panicking about COVID, having people cook meals for him, sleeping in separate bedrooms.

And checking out of life in the name of his cancer diagnosis.

The separate bedrooms allowed my mother to spy incessantly on the household, myself in particular. Fears of progress in analysis. Every night, I could feel her energy watching the videos, watching the day, watching me. Intuitive alarms sounding, until eventually my therapist understood and allowed me, during covid, to continue

in-person analytical sessions.

Intuitive warnings stopping me from masturbating, lights blacked, hiding underneath my covers. Messages from the ether. I bought a WIFI tracking device, but was unable to actually find the devices themselves. Only hearing the pings.

They existed though, trust me, it’s difficult writing about since I never actually found one, in fact I would always stop looking. I’m taking a chance. A lot of what happened, was a knowing, but didn’t have the balls or the confidence to go looking. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact my own mother would put me under surveillance.

The real kicker is that I’m an intuitive empath, so when I ask my mom, “why were you watching me masturbate” and she responds, “No, I didn’t”, I can feel that she’s lying. Immediately.

COVID was a fucking shit show.

A weaponized neurosis.

Instead of facing our own narcissism, corrupt establishments, narcissistic institutions, neurotics villainized other non-mask wearers, COVID dissidents, and used the disease to perpetuate never-ending frustrations in ALL THE WRONG PLACES.

My father:

Screaming about people standing to close in a kitchen, yelling to prepare food dishes separately, accusing us of murder for not getting the vaccine, locking yourself away from society for literal years, avoiding your wife, children, friends. For years. I hate COVID, I hate the lying globalists for what they’ve done. I hate our government for lying about virology labs in Wuhan and Anthony Fauci’s gain of function. I hate misinformation they spread on vaccines, the retaliation for those who spoke against the liars, blatant media cover up, social media censorship, but most of all, I hate the neurosis.

COVID suddenly became the great excuse, the great neurosis.
“Sorry, I’ve got long COVID, it really affects me.”

“Stay away from me without your fucking mask!”

“Have you been triple vaccinated yet?!”
It became a moral crusade, if you’re not inline with government issued health standards, you’re a part of the problem, if not the cause of the problem.

While simultaneously being gaslit by the same establishment who knows what’s actually happening; the real cause. It’s narcissistic, psychopathic.
And here I was, stuck between two narcissistic systems.

We cannot underestimate the startling similarities between narcissistic families, codependency, and a lack of free thought. How the same person enslaved to a narcissistic spouse, my father, is now being fooled by a narcissistic government. In fact, media becomes the new bosom in replacement of the wife. The new tit, ready for sucking.

I should’ve seen this happening with my dad, taking ketamine one afternoon, and having a conversation; startled by a clairvoyant vision of my dad marching over hilltops, wielding sword and shield, marching while singing for the king, looking silly and void of thought. Clueless, a pawn.

Instead of facing the real problems in our household, everything became about covid. My brother walking around, “this is the end of the world, everything is ending. This is it.” Meanwhile it’s almost 2022, and Covid was only detrimental to about .05%- 1% of the population.

The world of neurosis.
“Wanna hang out?”
“Nah man, COVID, playing it safe.”

“You going to work today?”
“I can’t work, COVID, I’ll die.”
It was the biggest excuse of our lifetime.

If you didn’t get a chance to cash in, to receive your ‘get out of jail free card’, I’m sorry.

They were being thrown left and right.

Next pandemic.

Next.

My mother is a rotten cunt, a narcissist sociopath, a liar.
She’s typically thriving when getting away with lighting the family dog on fire, planting cameras in my room- watching me masturbate, covering up my psychic abilities, controlling finances, or destroying everything in the vicinity.

A narcissist feels no empathy, trapped to a world of subconscious anger due to repressed emotions toward the primary object (mother), and its unfortunate to have one for a mother. She found a codependent, my father, somebody weak, and leached into the family system. A narcissist requires a cloak, a mask, SOMEBODY to help hide. Camouflage.

Imagine being told you’re a gifted child, graduating law school with stellar grades, taking decent jobs, only to marry a sociopath and throwing your family’s future down the drain?

Ask my father how he’s handling the situation.

The worst part of confronting narcissism is how nobody will believe you, and even if they do, they’ll be too fucking weak and pathetic to actually help you, preferring the comfortable bosom of the vile narcissist.

Staying married to a narcissist is constant ass covering: rehabs, child behavioral problems, lack of identity, lack of self esteem, and creating excuses and compensations to ever address the REAL CAUSE of your crumbling children, your crumbling castle.

THE REAL CAUSE, THE NARCISSIST.

My life is pointing at somebody going “LOOK, THE MONSTER”, and getting the pitchfork in return.

The main reason: it’s difficult for my family members, particularly my siblings?

How can you confront Mom when Dad was always the “bad guy”.

A narcissist needs… REQUIRES a weak co-dependant partner… somebody they can emotionally manipulate…even creating an Oedipal Complex amongst the children, turning the children against the opposite sex parent through mind games and manipulation. Preferring the same sex parent, maybe even sexually.

It’s impossible to rule out emotional incest, how the parent utilizes the child for emotional satisfaction — a younger, easier shaped replacement for the spouse.

My father, an emotionally weak and fragile individual, was perfect for the undertaking. My siblings and I grew up attending therapy, complaining about the maltreatment from my father, the verbal abuse, anger tantrums, even physical abuse.

And although the behavior appears narcissistic, we’re actually dealing with a CO-NARCISSIST, the personality who defends and upholds the reality of the narcissist, by any means necessary.

The co-narcissist is well-aware of their narcissistic partner, but it’s the love language they KNOW. It’s their PROGRAMMING — their world.

You have to be careful pulling people from THE MATRIX.
How do I know?

The response to confronting narcissism is a weaponized reaction from the narcissist and co-narcissist.

My father called me crazy, delusional, told me I needed medications, doctors… that I was insane and needed help.

My brother called the police twice during two verbal disputes, illegally hospitalized me, and attempted a Protection From Abuse from the courts.

Why?

Because I verbally confronted my substance-abusing brother who crashed multiple cars, injuring bystanders– who collapsed into a pharmaceutical relapse due to his toxic relationship.

Each time, the police let me go, or even asked if I wanted to press charges when hospitalized…. an ordeal I refused because I didn’t need my brother arrested and taken back home. My brother and his wife decided to live from his car after intentionally starting fights at 3:00 AM, doing construction in his room to cause noise, to start fights he would end by calling the police.

I was finishing my last year of felony probation, five years, originally facing 10-14 years in prison for manufacturing/distribution of MDMA charges….

He was well aware.

The lengthy sentence was dropped due to lawyers and technicalities during the investigation… I’ll touch on this later.

Many YEARS were spent confronting narcissism, to no avail, fighting with each member of my family in the process – or being avoided entirely.

My mother and I were all ready fighting constantly, so the nudge in modern psychoanalysis was all I needed to see clearly, to reach the revelation my mother was a narcissist sociopath.

However, the process was more difficult for my siblings and father, who cowered at the opportunity to hold my mother responsible.

Covid was the eye opening experience… that my father wasn’t the real patriarch of the family, and that somebody else was pulling the strings.

Dilapidated fences and runaway dogs was the initial start….
Night after night, morning after morning, day after day… my dogs were placed outside without leashes onto a property with a dilaptiating fence.

Everyday the dogs escaped, and everyday there was no solution.
I was currently in the peak of my therapy, coming off medications, and financially dependent — making it difficult to initiate any response, and almost waiting on my parents to “do the right thing”.

They never did, continuing to allow the dogs onto the back property with no containment, causing the dogs to escape, to dash onto busy Providence Road, to cut themselves, and eventually injure their joints and ligaments.

MULTIPLE veterinary trips to assist dislocated joints in MULTIPLE dogs, a result of diving underneath a half broken fence while chasing animals.
How about when the dogs needed veterinary assistance? For instance, when my dog was trembling in his own urine, an injured joint – totally immobilizing.

My mom left him in the urine, saying he must’ve gotten “wet outside”.
I still have videos of my dogs whimpering, limping, and covered in scrapes….

Not to be confused with the scars my mother intentionally inflicted on the animals, primarily using her nails and lighters.

My parents did nothing while I attempted to scrounge money to buy fencing materials, which often accomplished nothing due to the severity of the damages.

WHY?

Who’s the bad guy when somebody’s throwing temper tantrums over a broken fence and hurt animals? Well apparently, in my family, it’s the guy throwing the temper tantrums… it’s not about the cause.

Plus it was easier to address Nick’s CRAZY, out of control response than to address the narcissist who refused to address the broken fence, who CONTROLS the finances, who continues to bring more dogs onto the property even though the fence is broken.

In the midst of the dogs escaping, my mother said she’d watch a family friend’s dog, who escaped and caused a massive panic attack between my brother and I…

The incident caused a fight, and I eventually punched a vase in anger, resulting in scars and tendon damage that never healed, why, because somebody thought we should be dog-sitting with no leashes and a broken fence, leaving my brother and I with the dogs while they went to dinner.

The fence and my dogs initiated the conflicts between my mother and I, proving herself a narcissist by the way she treated my dogs and handled them escaping.

Not to mention the bloodied wounds I found on my dog, the mysterious scars, and the weird, creepy excuses from my mom….

“Oh that’s a skin tag”
“Geno was stung by bees”

“The dog was playing in thorn bushes”

REMEMBER, hurting animals is a sure sign you’re dealing with a narcissist.
In fact, I’m pretty sure my mother tortured my dog with anal cancer, in order to quicken his death.. WHY?

Because his death and behaviors were exposing my mother’s narcissism, primarily how my dog behaved narcissistically, mimicking my mother… and how the dog required compassion, energy, but most of all, money to keep him alive.

The dog was ultimately put to sleep early, a neurosis.
Instead of dealing with my mother’s narcissist behavior, my family became obsessed with her narcissistic dog towards his final days, who displayed narcissistic qualities, who ultimately thought he was better than my family.
A pompous poodle, raised by my mother, who displayed little empathy and bullied other dogs, even other members of the family.

I’m just getting started…
I have a lot to say, but trouble getting anything across…
Everything has to be the best thing ive ever typed, the best message to ever come across paper. How obnoxious?

While my mom is cutting off my finances because they’re investing in a “new fence”, it appears the perfect time to reminisce on the damn fence and all her glory.

Many years fixing the fence…. many goddamn years.

My mom doesn’t need any dog’s, she’s a big enough bitch.