Today, as I was listening to stressful story number 974 for the ninth time, I considered the matter of sugar eaters and their stress levels. I accidentally ate some sugar the other day, and immediately felt very depressed.
A very brief research online will show you what sugar does to your brain, and you should be aware that the diet you are encouraged to eat by the pharmaceutical sponsored medical authorities will cause a variety of fairly serious ailments which pharmaceutical companies then provide remedies for.
The fact that you hotly defend doing this as you destroy yourself is basically laziness.
You will also find some more recent material on the benefits to your mental health of eating fruit and vegetables.
Meat is also associated with higher levels of psychosis. Personally, I find that a little bit of psychosis is quite helpful for basic concentration, so for that reason I prefer meat and fish based sources of protein to nuts.
I have tried going full force raw vegan, and whilst I was rather more beautiful than usual, I was a bit too creative and less practical, so I lasted about 7 months of ditzy floatiness before returning to sufficient psychosis to concentrate on more tedious things.
I have tried with a variety of easily remedied but common ailments to indicate to people that it is not only their doctor administering chemical compounds that is responsible for their health and I am now bored with the inevitable response. It is either too much trouble, or people claim that it will only do so much. They don’t even bother to try, because they are dissuaded from trying and don’t want the responsibility.
I suffered from chronic pain, anxiety, anemia until I ate properly. Only a few weeks of eating what most of you think is a normal diet will cause me to suffer from these things again. I cannot be bothered repeatedly trying to talk to fucking robots.
Please do continue to suffer. I will just use the mute button.
Every so often I like to write a really nice post about David Wolfe. Then I like to throw a tantrum. I haven’t done one for ages on the grounds that he turned out to be very married, but I see he has paid me a visit, so here we go, let us again attempt to explain the phenomenon that is Ina Disguise and David Wolfe.
For those who are not as familiar with this topic as Wolfe and I, I used to be a super critical and very serious lady who happened to have had a very open relationship with alternative health as my early General Practice doctors had trained prior to the worship of big pharma and were not only medical doctors but homeopaths. (shock, horror)
The now normalised hatred of herbalism and homeopathy did not exist post-war. People used what worked, and doctors were unusually interested in health. This has been eroded to the point that even talking about alternative health means that you are subject to personal attack, even without the addition of positive reinforcement and entertainment as a tool to gently coaxing people to take better care of themselves generally.
Twenty years ago or so, long before I had ever heard of Wolfe, I had a stand up fight with the Senior pathologist in Glasgow, about the necessity of paying for more doctors, versus the necessity of improving public health. I had no idea I felt so strongly about it until I was red in the face arguing with him about appropriate investment and misleading information.
Anyway, with the shining example of my early doctors and my father I had always had a keen interest in alternative health alongside my interest in politics and economic history. This has now become an issue of personal freedom, especially since the NHS chose to force the issue in the case of my parents.
Prior to the radical change in my diet brought on by my taking things into my own hands via Wolfe, I suffered from anaemia, frequent depression, psoriasis and I was becoming increasingly crippled down my left side, partially due to what I suspect is a form of arthritis, my heroic use of the mouse, and some damage in a car accident when I was 24 or so. (hysterical French chef boyfriend) I was also intermittently huge. I am not particularly small now, but I am an unusually happy, creative, motivated and positive person, to the point that couch potatoes find me quite odd.
I now look deceptively young, have no pain, no depression and no psoriasis. I am not a great example of a raw foodist, I am quite scruffy about it, but my health and my diet is now managed quite carefully, and when I am not overworking I actually look after myself.
My mother also got an extra seven months thanks to my knowledge, and clearly that is a good thing. She was a happy lady eventually. I would have preferred that she was happy for a bit longer and that they had left us alone. People are disgusting.
Anyway, all that being said as a preamble:
Disliking Wolfe, disregarding Wolfe as a nut based on not liking everything that he has to say, singling out bits of the more entertaining material as evidence that you should be lazy and go to a doctor rather than look into your problems yourself is what a stupid, immature and lazy thinker does. I chose not to do that for a number of reasons:
He is very skilled at putting together information, much of the more whacky material is very carefully placed to keep you awake enough to hear more.
He is a highly intelligent individual, and if you look hard enough you will find material that you cannot find anywhere else.
If you have even half a brain, it is very simple to ignore the bits you aren’t interested in and pursue the bits you are.
Wolfe can be quite lazy, and can fail to take some elements seriously. That appears to be my job, and I am guilty of lack of self-belief, even now. He is busy marketing, and that is fine with me.
Once you consider the matter of how knowledge has been annexed for the purposes of making pharmaceutical companies the font of all belief, you cannot believe how stupid it has made even high level medical staff. I was confronted by a consultant telling me she did not believe in science that she had not even seen a year ago. This statement is in itself unscientific and evidence of dogmatic education. Thus big pharma has even infiltrated education to the point of religious mania, which is exceptionally dangerous, especially coupled with the fervor for social engineering in the form of killing entire sectors of the population in the UK. An example of this would be the deaths from Alzheimer’s in Scotland going up by 31% in one year. That is not a natural event.
Much of Wolfe’s work is given for nothing, and I cannot say that he has been at all mean about distribution. His work on motivating people to consider taking care of themselves is outstanding, and free. Any self-respecting doctor will tell you how difficult it is to motivate patients. I struggle with this side of things even with myself as an example.
If you also factor in Wolfe’s less witting work on opening you up to consider the matter of personal confidence, which is also free, you start to understand just how hard the dude has worked.
I think that’s enough. I am not weeping. (yay)
I still haven’t managed to write the thing I wanted to write today, but I hope that is a reasonably succinct snapshot of 9 years of intensive self-work that I only did because I wanted to some day be adequate. (spoke too soon, you’re an asshole, Wolfe.)
That is because the readers of this page are mostly spiteful, mentally ill people who wish to do me harm.
You would need to decide by looking in the mirror why you have these problems.
Nobody took your time from you. Nobody asked you for anything. Nobody cost you your job. Nobody did anything other than provide better than the best possible care for my mother, far beyond what she was getting elsewhere.
It is not for me to recommend who you go to to resolve your issues. I have other things to do. There are hundreds of thousands of people who need help, because they do not even know what is being done to them via the pharmaceutical companies, the medical services and the law.
You could, if you wanted to, actually research it and you would find out that you are lied to every day of your lives, but I doubt that any of you can be bothered. Instead you will sit, slack jawed and try to blame me for – what – ever – you – invent – because – you – just – can’t – be -bothered – putting – the – work – in.
To take one drug that my mother was put in as an example: She was put on one (unnamed) drug which allegedly kept stomach acid down. It had the named side effects of making her dementia worse, causing pain to joints and reducing her appetite. I replaced this with a diet which was anti-viral, anti-inflammatory and which contained a balance of nutrients to improve her memory. I spent years developing it, because of what had been done to my father.
My relatives were told several times that her diet was of paramount importance to keep her well. They not only ignored this, but continued to bitch to any available medical personnel, to the point that I was hounded out of the hospital entirely by aggressive staff.
Instead of getting visibly angry about this, I created the project which I am now having to rethink because of my stupid non-friend, who also happens to be a psychology graduate and former nurse.
He has verified on numerous occasions that nurses are far from being angels. They carry out the orders of the higher levels of the NHS, who not only have policy targets to meet, but are trained to disregard information that does not suit them.
There are previous posts during the period that I was looking after my mother showing that there is evidence that my care of her worked. The third and final consultant refused to even look at her blood tests, so determined was she that my mother was not to survive.
I object to this. I had a legal right to be heard. I was not listened to. I was battered with yet more bitching from my relatives via a third party as usual because they are not only vile, they are also cowards, and I will never forgive any of them for what they did.
Things I have learned since meeting Wolfe last year:
Sometimes your wildest imaginings are real, and your normal mundane life can crush you so much that you just can’t see it.
You should never let other people dictate your self-image. I let a couple of minor workers tell me I was nothing, and I believed it, which wasted about nine years of my time and his.
Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for yourself is let go of a dream, even if it is incredibly painful.
The only thing that matters is work, but I kind of knew that before, so I am not sure that it really counts.
Having an open mind requires considerable personal strength, but it is worth it.
Never trust authority. People who assume authority roles are automatically dangerous and potentially murderous.
Being kind does not necessarily involve huge amounts of time or energy.
Even when you have been battered a hundred times, keep trying to get past it and eventually you will.
Take nothing too seriously, life is short.
I will never be able to think about Wolfe at all without weeping profusely. I am not sure why this is, I can only assume that the entire episode was a kind of necessary destruction.
Stop worrying about wider implications, particularly on behalf of other people.
The most important things can be the most subtle.
It doesn’t matter how ridiculous you think you are being, you are always learning something, and even if it is something you didn’t think you needed, it leads to something further down the line.
Relentless self-belief is the most important thing you can have.
Never be afraid to show and tell, even when it makes you actually vomit with anxiety.
Fear makes you ill. Drop that.
Boundaries are important, although they are difficult to implement, particularly when the people you are dealing with refuse to recognise them. If this is the case, delete these people.
Things I have learned since my mother’s death at the hands of allegedly professional medical staff.
Never ever trust people who tell you they are professional because they really mean they can do what they like to you and you cannot defend yourself.
There is no such thing as genuine authority or knowledge. The people that tell you that there is are the most dangerous.
No matter how pleasant you are, nobody respects you until you show them your teeth.
Social care systems are actually social engineering systems and are based upon flawed law which was created to protect stupid people from their own mistakes.
Family is the most dangerous construct in the world and having children is not going to help you when you are no longer economically useful to them. My siblings were more than happy to deal with the nurses.
People at work exploit any weakness and do not wish to either learn anything or grow. All they are interested in is hurting other people to make themselves feel better about being unimportant.
There is no such thing as good leadership any more.
We now live in a corporatist hellhole which is getting worse. Nobody cares if you are any good or not, they only care about surviving, which means you are in constant danger as long as you are dealing with other people on a regular basis.
It is not OK to express happiness of any kind.
It is not OK to appreciate anybody, so keep your mouth shut.
The general population is unhealthy and drugged by TV to the point that they fear anybody who does not conform.
You are an object. Do not expect to be regarded with any humanity at any time.
Personality disorders are becoming more common and more pronounced and you will continue to be at the mercy of disordered people until you stab your way to a position where they are unable to hurt you. You are as well to do so, since inevitably other people are safer in your hands than theirs.
People now seem to genuinely believe that money makes them superior.
Broadly speaking, being a person of any quality whatsoever makes you a target, so it is up to you whether you choose to hide or whether you choose to fight. The world is changing quite rapidly and the general population appear to be asleep and/or extremely stupid.
Thoughtlessness is killing a world which was not that pleasant in the first place. From nasty, brutish and short, we have now come full circle past the good bit and to nasty, brutish and shortened, all in a relatively short time.
My friend in the Gambia was asking for advice this evening. I said:
Take as much as you can from other people. When they run out of stuff for you to take, take their time. Keep taking until they have nothing left, because taking stuff from other people and hurting them as much as possible is all that actually matters. That is what I have learned this year.
Apart from that, leave me the fuck alone because I do not apparently belong to this crowd.
I haven’t done a post about raw food for a long time, mainly because I am a part timer and do not practise raw foodism all the time.
My version is a convenient but rather comprehensive and inflexible diet, composed of supermix, a concoction I invented whilst settling an argument set up by Durianrider and Wolfe many years ago. It was quite thin and spindly back then. Now it has to be bought over a year, because the ingredients come to over a thousand. The good news, however, is that once you have made it, it lasts more than a year, so I have now taken to deconstructing it to make it more bearable in terms of cost.
After all these years of messing about, major emotional upheavals and errors aside, I have finally accepted that, alongside a bit of kimchi, seaweed and some pork and fish now and again on very special occasions, I am better off on supermix. Currently I drink it with pineapple, barberries, chilli and ginger, and I have to say it works wonders for my face in particular.
I have also managed to isolate the cause of my sporadic outbursts of psoriasis, and it is not only related to stress, it is related to certain fats, which I should avoid altogether. Some unexpected lamb caused it last, so I will not be making that mistake again (I did say I was a part-timer)
I am not the only person that has taken a long time, even with some determination, to reach the conclusion that the hippies are right and everyone else is wrong. It is too easy for the plebs to write off what is said to them on the grounds of it being whacky (Wolfe) dishonest (Harley) eosoteric (Cousens) etc, however if you are a nit picker such as myself, you do see the sense though this. Even then, life happens and I think particularly for those people with a social life, it is a difficult call to make.
However, now that I have reached the age of CRON, it is particularly invaluable and I cannot tell you how nice it is to work alongside a bunch of norms who are blown out and shapeless to remind me not to do what they are doing.
Having said that, the most important thing that I learned from the raw food era was to have an open mind and try things before you dismiss them. My father’s interest in natural health was very helpful in encouraging me to investigate the raw movement further, and I am very glad I did, because even a week of trying to eat low carb now has a serious effect on my well being. It is the difference between being arthritic, wrinkly, covered in psoriasis, grumpy and sciatic; and being my normal self, which is none of these things.
So, for people who have either written it off or think they were made a fool of, you are very short-sighted in my view. Nothing is wasted, and the knowledge you gained should kick in when you need it if you have an ounce of sense. I will forever credit Wolfe with giving me the confidence to use my knowledge to create supermix, which saved my mother’s life and probably mine.
I think, however, that on top of the physical benefits, the mental benefits are what have become most apparent. One’s diet, and one’s ability to excrete quickly, in particular, makes a massive difference to one’s mindset and world view, although I have met some pretty dishonest vegans in my time having said that. Wolfe is entirely right about a lot of things that I tested, so to dismiss him as nuts is a mistake. What he is is a marketing whizzkid, whether you enjoy the entertainment as much as I do or not. (yes the fury is still fun, Wolfe)
Once I have finished my current project, which is cleaning up some corruption locally, I need to return to Boris before a national project begins, which will ultimately send me back to Wolfe to return the favour. I have a little work to do on my personal presentation, which is underway, and some other things which we have already discussed.
Here is a picture of Krishna. Why is it not a surprise that he is crying?
Today’s entry is on an entirely different subject, although I hope readers of the previous entries have given some thought to moving their money.
I had to do a lot of temporary contract work throughout university and afterwards, not only because I was older than everyone else, having had a previous career, but also because my pesky mother point blank refused to go to the doctor to deal with her heart problem and my father already had dementia by that point. I was a late baby.
I could not help noticing that every office that I worked in seemed to contain a den of bitches, male and female, who seemed to regard me as bit of an alien. Being a loner, this did not upset me as much as it might, however I came to believe after a few different offices that there was something seriously wrong with me, which made me retreat into my shell somewhat after having worked extremely hard to scratch my way to the top of my previous male-dominated career.
Employment agencies presented a range of similar problems. The women who decided whether to put you forward for jobs were completely different animals from me, and could not seem to wrap their heads around the idea that someone who had run their own successful businesses had retrained.
This meant that the education that I had spent time and money on was pretty much meaningless in terms of gaining suitable employment from these people, and so I was scuppered on both counts. Nevertheless, I managed in my obsessive, compulsive way to keep myself in work by spending 7am to 11pm looking for jobs whether I needed them or not. This went on for about 6 years.
My last job was as a banking consultant, a job which paid unusually well but involved working 3pm to midnight, six days a week. Not satisfied with the idea that this was a result, I took on another two jobs, one as a government research interviewer, one as a corporate researcher. I viewed this, after the years of gypsy wandering, as the prudent way to go, so at one point I was making calls over breakfast, visiting people in their homes at lunchtime, feeding my father in the hospice, and then racing across the city to the bank to work until midnight.
Since I had always had quite a lot of control over my lot prior to gaining my additional education, it did not occur to me that there were rules associated with working in banks which had not been in place elsewhere. I had had a couple of problems with large companies previously, when I had taken it upon myself to suggest changes which would save the company money and waste. You are not supposed to do this. You are supposed to be so petrified of losing your job that you say nothing even as several hundred, or in one case thousands of pounds per hour are being squandered right in front of you. It was at one of these companies I was jokingly referred to as ‘the economist who hates money.’ I could explain why, but that would be another lengthy story. I would rather be referred to as ‘the geek that hates waste,’ to be honest.
Anyway, back to the bank. I was in a room alongside probably two hundred people, all earning a fairly vast amount of money, ranging from 1000 to 3000GBP per week and doing fairly basic clerical work. As the deadlines were quite tight, I can confirm that it was fairly hard work, however I have worked as hard for minimum wage, if not harder. The problem arose when one of the printers broke down, and the entire room was left to cope with a vast amount of paperwork and only one functional printer. As you can imagine, the queue for this printer became hot and very unpleasant extremely quickly, and so I took it upon myself to go to the project manager and request another printer.
A few minutes after I had done this, the well dressed and obviously well heeled team that I was working in expressed shock that I had done this. Hadn’t I gone to the supervisor? I was not supposed to talk to the manager. I was also comparatively scruffy and regarded as something of an exotic flower in this team, since I did things other than banking for a living. They were impressively shocked.
I don’t mean to sound quite such a grumpy old lady, but since I have been making this same point since I was quite young, it is not strictly an age issue. What on earth has happened to the world? The 1950s working generation were the most economically successful generation in world history. Nobody is ever going to match the achievements in their lifetime. People like my parents had choices, of where to work and how to work, and got respect for what they did that would be scoffed at now, and yet we are less efficient than ever. We pretend that technology has made all things possible, and everything more efficient, and yet in productive terms, and in progressive terms, we have actually declined in efficiency.
The ‘blame’ and ‘yes sir’ culture is what caused the Bernie Maidoff situation in banking. Guys in suits shaking hands with other guys in suits and not actually examining what they were doing. And why oh why has nobody joined the dots about the banking crisis which immediately followed? They talk about the problems with sub-prime lending but nobody dares mention that this happened at exactly the same time as the Maidoff scandal. Far be it from me to point out that the bankers were following orders, and have been made scapegoats to the alleged crisis, but to me the real issue was the cultural issue, of stupid employing stupid and doing business with crooked.
If, like me, you stick out from the crowd. If, like me, you don’t like waste and you don’t believe that your level of oiliness should determine success above your level of actual talent, then do not be ashamed of it. You may never be rich in today’s cultural climate, but perhaps you are made for better things.
I wonder how it feels to be somebody’s worst wrong turning? I imagine if you hate them, you laugh because they made a bad decision. That makes it easier for you to digest the fact that you are a bad idea in the form of a human.
Everything was going quite well with Ina, since last October, when Wolfe was kind enough to allow me to sort my shit out there. It was a big deal deciding to face up to it, and he made it far less nightmarish. He is very kind. (to me anyway)
Boris was also one of my better ideas. I am very upset that I have been forced into letting him down.
I cannot imagine what it must be like, looking at yourself in the mirror and saying “Isn’t it funny? I really ruined that woman’s life, for no reason at all! What a great guy I am!”
The pair of them probably think this achieves something other than making their lives less pleasant whilst I ensure that they don’t do this to anyone else. It is pointless and destructive behaviour.
Today, not for the first time this year, I sat in a room full of millennials and winced at them talking about their ideas about aging (40 is old apparently) apparently in blissful ignorance that I was not even the oldest person in the room, and I found this offensive. I then watched them object to my walking further than them just to get to work, and reacting with horror that I do not watch TV.
Once upon a time, youth was considered to represent idealism, progress and open-mindedness. Now it represents a grasping narrow-minded view of themselves and others as they talk about never being out of debt whilst looking for people to eliminate to secure their tenner an hour.
The male who made the comment about elderly 40 year olds has a 1 year old child and 70 thousand pounds worth of debt due to his university course. He is unlikely ever to pay this off, and has moved to Scotland because he cannot afford accomodation in Reading, where he comes from. You can look forward to more of this in the future. If Scotland does not protect herself, she will be trampled in the rush, in fact.
Instead of talking about this problem or – shock horror – dealing with it, these same people will turn around and accuse you of whatever ism comes to hand to shut you up, therefore it is not worth talking to them. Instead we all have to patiently wait for the penny to drop. It isn’t my children who will suffer in the future. I couldn’t afford any, and I was told I would have to take care of my parents to supply a bunch of spoilt boomers with money, apparently. It certainly wasn’t indicative of caring about their parents. They manifested that quite clearly.
In the meantime, my friend is repeatedly banging his head off a brick wall trying to get medical treatment from the NHS, who still do not appear to want to investigate and make a diagnosis. He is persistent in his expectation that they will make him well.
I have explained to him time and time again that as a disabled person on benefits, it is not a good plan to allow the NHS to take over anything, since they killed my mother 7 months ago after a determined few months of telling me they wanted to do it. He is not safe.
I think we can safely make the assumption, after several experiences like this, that millennials are just as clueless, selfish and blind as boomers, and it is not until somebody is murdering their relatives that they will notice, if at all. My boomer relatives would still pretend that the NHS were experts at something, and that murdering the elderly is a good thing. They are elderly themselves now, so I look forward it happening to them.
I hate this job. My back hates this job. I need something more active. These people are dull, narrow minded and hateful. Just like you.
Having met a particularly bad example this week, I am not impressed by the idea of marriage at the moment.
Quite apart from the stupidity, the ugliness and mean spirit is not appealing. I think sometimes it is better to be alone and lonely than lonely in a group of people to the point that it drives you insane.
Part of the paradox of letting go of shame, is letting go of pride. I had not previously linked these two things, but as I identify more with Wolfe and Boris than I do the morons I have had the misfortune to fall victim to recently, I now realise that letting go of shame also carries the vanquishing of pride.
You cannot afford pride if you are in the public gaze. Pride is useless. It is the equivalent of wearing platform heels to a garden party. Not practical, and you are likely to fall on your face. Falling on your face is itself inspirational, as other people are put through much the same thing for just as little reason in the course of their lives.
If you like something you should be able to say so without having your career destroyed by stupid people with limited brains and no imagination.
If you are at work you should not be terrified because people have stiff genitals and apparently no means of being able to speak.
I am deeply hurt by the latest chapter in what has been a long and miserable period of having people take a pop at me because they have something missing. I think I covered it in a previous post about it – one company boss fired me two hours before the end of a project because I had finished the work early. Rather than just letting me leave, she fired me. That is how bad it has been. That was in the office where they constantly abused me about being too posh and not being married like the other ladies.
It is not easy earning a living when you go through stuff like this constantly. Basically you have to develop the attitude that people are shit, and you walk on the shit until it gives way and then you get out as fast as you can.
I never stop being surprised at the limitations and self-loathing I encounter. The easy option for most people is to hate others and try to inflict damage to make themselves feel better. It is little wonder that humans are so grossly inefficient when this is how they spend their time.
I wonder whether it might be worth doing a series on self-image, since mine has been forced to become so very tough.
The wife in question is already at 28 pompous, self righteous, complacent and blissfully unconcerned about how she treats people. I am not surprised that she makes people unhappy. Money does not make up for blistering ignorance. The inside of her head is already showing on her face.
I’m generally very angry at how I have been treated. I’m very hurt, and I do not have the years left to make it go away. This stuff has been going on too long, and for what? The people that do it get under ten minutes pleasure out of it, whilst my life is constantly made worse.
Be aware, stupid people, bullying is cumulative, and eventually any worm is going to turn on you. Nobody attacked your jobs. Nobody stared at you. Nobody frightened you.
OK so now we have all seen my angry face, it is time to move onto our next appointment. (I’m sure SB is much happier, he was trying to get that angry face for weeks – I was exactly the same with Wolfe)
I am unable to continue with the public element of the Boris project at the moment due to a variety of factors, some of which are more interesting than others.
I think the most pertinent is my lack of assertiveness for many years with the exs. As a result, I appear to have assumed a rather maternal role in their lives, and some of the last relationships consisted entirely of me watching some dude talking about himself whilst saying nothing.
This was in many ways my best feature. Rather than sticking up for myself or discussing anything I wanted, I would take the role of silent punchbag and had a reputation of being somewhat inscrutable. It did, however, usually end up with my eating rather a lot.
This has changed quite a bit in the last few years, not just because of the blog, but because if they are stupid enough to try this, they quickly find that I am not available. There are some things worth resolving, and some things you shouldn’t waste your time changing.
It is interesting that my generation have been no better as parents as the boomers. I am not sure why bringing children up with no morals, compassion, or sense of duty is a good idea, but good luck when you get old and sick. Putting yourself in the hands of so-called professionals WILL GET YOU KILLED.
I was asked some years ago to do a book on dementia care, and I now wonder whether it is worthwhile to bother. My generation seem to have been unusual in that almost everyone I went to school with opted to take care of their own parents for as long as possible. The boomers weren’t willing to do it, and the millennials seem to be even more cutthroat because they are desperate for some money, so miserable are their prospects.
I have a rather large tasklist at the moment, and I think perhaps the writing should be on the front page of that, but I now feel able to get on with the game, and as I promised Wolfe, I will not be letting him down. He has been very kind.
The Boris book, however, is very important to us, so this is high on the priority list too.
In the meantime, I have just finished my interview, and it is now time to get the last of the shoe bases made so that I can get that out whilst I deal with the remaining problems.
Your happiness is very important, but do not drag other people into getting it for you. It is as important for you as anyone else that you take care of some things yourself. It can take years, and I have no time left for waiting.
This first one is an excellent overview of what to expect from your pet narcissist. I am a magnet for these people, and expert at finding them without even trying. The sad part is that they tend to focus on people who don’t understand what the problem is, and even when they are made aware of it, they would sooner blame you for pointing it out than take any action on it. I found the medium of CPTSD excellent for taking some of the sharper edges off from trying to gently introduce the subject to a test narc.
He is a bit rambly, but Richard has a lot of very helpful videos on hows and whys of dealing with narcissism. There are other excellent people on youtube, but for an introduction and some explanations of dealing with problems, this is your easy to follow dude.
Gaslighting is the art of persuading everyone else they are mad whilst keeping yourself squeaky clean from any personal responsibility for anything. Narcs seem to perfect this without effort. A good example of this is when I woke up one morning and realised I was still being told that I was selfish, insane and lazy after restoring a 14 room house and taking care of two parents with dementia at the expense of my drifting personal life and career, at which point I decided enough was enough.
This article on mobbing is about workplace mobbing, which is when you persuade other workers to gang up on one to deflect any possible self-awareness or potential change from bothering you.
This is classic – one care home owner told me that if she had a pound for every family behaving disgustingly towards the carer, she wouldn’t need a care home. There is no current legal framework for protecting you if you are stupid enough to actually give a shit about your loved ones.
Other terms you will find include flying monkeys – people who do the work of the narcissist because they don’t like thinking. You will pick up a few more as you look around. Do not make the mistake of getting too suckered into the world of narcissistic victimhood, however, as it gets very silly eg. “He is trying to return my blender. He is using this as an excuse to talk to me. I will be manipulated. What do I do?”
The answer is take the blender and lock the door, bitch.
There is no cure for NPD. According to a mother of a narcissist I know particularly well, it manifested within a year of birth. There goes your theories about it being nurture rather than nature.
This is a handy guide to restarting your life after being sucked dry. The biggest enemy, of course, is the damage to your confidence, so bear that in mind before you go for the nearest dishwashing job. Do not be put off by the regular attacks as people try to exploit your ‘weakness.’
Finally, if you want to know my experience of living with one, there is a free short story on the books page.
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