Hello, Anger

I have discovered anger toward my N-ish best friend.I suppose I need to come up with a nickname for her for blogging purposes, because she's probably going to be a common topic of discussion from now until who knows when. Hence forth, allow me to introduce you to "Samantha".

Samantha is the same age as me and we have known each other since we were small children. Even back then she was selfish and didn't like sharing her things while I was expected to share mine. And I did, because my NM taught me to share. She didn't teach me how to stand up for myself, although I did learn to start doing that. Anyway, she was practically my only friend, and since our parents became friends I saw her often and it's probably because of our parents that we stayed friends.

Samantha was never thin. She wasn't morbidly obese or anything, but she was never tiny like I was. She has struggled with her body image and weight for most of the time I've known her. When we were kids, she didn't like that I was so little and yet ate sweets whenever I wanted. She hoped I would get fat when I got older. That hasn't happened yet. Of course I've filled out in all the right places and I'm not a stick anymore, but I love my hour glass figure and so does DH. Sure, I have my insecurities, but over all I think I am a decently attractive human being.

So since I opened up to my friends and E-Sis about Samantha and her behavior as of late, I've learned some fascinating things. One friend (who I've talked with about NM before and has a mother way crazier than mine) has only been tolerating her for my sake, although Samantha doesn't know it. Samantha seriously damaged that relationship years ago by being a shitty friend when that friend's father was dying. Another views her as more of a friend of a friend. A newer, third friend has noticed Samantha trying to become closer with her and absolutely does not want to be closer to her; she has been down the road I'm walking with a best friend before. E-Sis, for all her faults, can be very protective of me and wanted to punch Samantha in the face the other week for making me cry.

But best of all is the things I have learned Samantha has said to other people! She has disparaged DH's degree behind my back for coming from a less prestigious university as hers. Never mind the person she told this too has a degree from the same university as DH and that's where almost everybody in my group of friends got their bachelors degrees from, including me. Never mind that her fiancee has a degree from there. Never mind that fact DH makes literally four times as much as she does and that her fancy degree has gotten her absolutely nothing. It's more worthless than a liberal arts degree, seriously. Samantha had to lie on her resume to get a fucking clerical job. But in a case of delicious irony, Samantha is going back to college to pursue a degree in the same field as DH, and even more ironic is that she may very well be going to that very same less prestigious university the rest of us went to.

I also learned the reason why my bachelorette party was so boring and lame. Apparently I "like it boring". I didn't know not wanting to get drunk off my ass and not wanting any male strippers left lame and boring as the only party option left. Yes, she told one of my other bridesmaid that it was okay, that I liked it boring. Apparently they offered to help but she claimed she knew what I wanted. Fascinating, since she never asked me anything beyond what I told her about not wanting strippers. Dinner was fine, but after that we all went back to her place and she had no food and there was nothing to do. She started having a political debate and raising her voice with another guest and had the nerve to get annoyed with me for being unhappy about it! Raised voices are a trigger for me, you see. That happens when you spend your formative years getting yelled at. But it isn't just my party, she didn't know what to do after dinner for her sister's party, either. It was a fluke somebody suggested something fun to do after dinner. Samantha can't plan things well, especially things that aren't for her. Although with what she's been saying about her wedding plans, I'm not sure she can plan things well that are for her either. Well, in all fairness the bridal showers and baby showers she's done have been very nice and gone very well. But those have an easy formula to follow.

I almost forget these gems: in her maid of honor speech, she'd had a bit much to drink, but she made a joke about having control over me and took credit for the fact DH and I started going out. The truth of the matter is I just asked her what she thought of him before I asked him out. I'd have probably done it regardless of her opinion and the reason DH and I even met was because our similar interests brought us to the same club. Also, when we were in our late teens and her boyfriend had dumped her and her "friends" ditched her, our mutual friends and I consoled her and hung out with her and cheered her up. Apparently at some point I don't recall, she said something about wanting to be with her "real friends". Guess we didn't count? No wonder my friends aren't friends with her anymore!

Samantha also whines when she doesn't like something or doesn't get her way. She almost caused the friend who was tolerating her for my sake to leave her own bachelorette party with her stupid whining about how the place we were at didn't have anything she could drink on her crazy new diet (which she would not stop talking about). Even though the place did, she just didn't believe the matron of honor until she looked it up herself on her phone.This was after yelling at the bride to be for telling her to calm down when she wasn't getting along with another guest (who admittedly wasn't that likable to begin with, but that's not the point).

Now Samantha has her own wedding to look forward to, and from the way she talks, money is what she's really looking forward to. She wants to register for her honeymoon and that's fine, but she keeps talking to me about getting money, money, money from guests. Estimating how much she might get based the value amount of the gifts her sister got, and so on. Frankly after hearing it, I'm not inclined to give her any money.

Oh, and she canceled on plans two more times since my last post. I wasn't surprised. But naturally when she needed me to go dress shopping with her, she didn't cancel.

Now you have met Samantha and seen some of her shining examples of bad behavior. It paints a very nasty image, I know. But what actually makes it harder for me is there have been times she has been a really great friend. When I had "The Confrontation" with my mother (I really need to write a summary of that up for you readers), she came and picked me up and took me out and talked me through the rough parts that followed. When she went abroad she wrote to me and sent gifts, including a very special gift from a place I desperately wanted to go one day. I've been able to talk with her about my problems with NM and E-Sis and know what I say won't get back to them. We had a lot of fun as kids, too.

I'm angry. I know I have been wronged and I'm not going to take it lying down anymore. I'm going to use that energy to change how I interact with and handle Samantha, and whatever happens from there, happens. I'm hoping for a gradual drifting apart because I'm not interested a dramatic mess, and I already agreed to be a bridesmaid before I had come to all these realizations. Whatever happens though, I've got my real friends backing me up.

Narcissists Are Like Cockroaches

For every one narcissist you find in your life, there are dozens more you just haven't seen yet. Well, maybe not that many, but if you have one, you usually find another or so. Having been raised them, we seem to attract them to us in other areas of our lives. They are drawn to us, and we are drawn to them until we learn better. Although it was probably just bad luck that landed me a narcissistic neighbor, but I digress.

I write this because I have now realized my best friend, who I mentioned bailing on plans with me in my last post, has significant narcissistic traits. I wouldn't go so far as to say she has a full blown personality disorder (yet), but she is definitely a very selfish and opinionated person. These negative traits are being magnified by her current unhealthy fad diet, which is adversely affecting her serotonin levels. Serotonin being that wonderful neurotransmitter that not only helps regulate mood, but also appetite, sleep, and even bone mass. Basically she has lost the ability to regulate her negative traits, which were only a minor nuisance to me previously. Then again, perhaps they were only minor back then because I lacked insight into myself and my NM?

But it isn't just me seeing this. Her behavior has been irritating all our other mutual friends, and more so than usual in those who I have learned tolerated her only for my sake all along. They provided a fascinating and enlightening third party perspective on my relationship with my best friend. I am a much stronger person today than I ever was in the past, so I can face and accept the truth. My best friend has always taken more than she has given, and I let her get away with it. I just couldn't see it until now. Although it was much milder and more subtle before she started her crazy diet; there would be eye-rolling, will-she-ever-shut-up moments, but none of this severe stuff that made me dislike her and actively not want to see her or be friends anymore.

I'm not going to just cut her out of my life though, we have a long shared history that can't be replaced, and I know her better than anyone else. I know just how insecure she is, just how much she hates herself. I know that each and every put down, every piece of snide, irritating, or opinionated bullshit that has comes out of her mouth is just a pathetic attempt to make her feel better about herself, to fill that emptiness she feels inside. But I also remember the past year or so she was doing really well, growing up and managing her faults better. I hope maybe someday she will be that person again. So I will simply change how I engage her, lower how valuable her friendship is to me and the esteem I hold her in. How she behaves is up to her, but ultimately I expect a gradual growing apart that will be cemented by her if she ever moves out of state like she wants to do.

Too bad I realized all this shit before I agreed to be bridesmaid in her wedding next year. I sense an impending bridezilla.

Hair and Delayed Reactions

So I've been quiet lately and way behind on the blogs I read. I recently went off birth control and my body is going a little crazy readjusting. And then I found out I had bad knees that will eventually cause me more problems than they are right now. I thought they were just strained from over use, but no, turns out I have defects in my femurs and my knee caps are angled instead of straight. So I've been moody and depressed. But otherwise, there isn't anything exciting going on in my life and no new developments with NM.

However, I'm planning to get my hair cut and a new hair style. This is a big thing for me. My hair has been virtually unchanged since I was little and my mother decided it was too much work to keep the bangs/fringe trimmed because my hair grew so fast. It's not that NM never gave me the option to change it when I was in grade school and onward, but I simply didn't know what to do with my hair. So it's always just been long (often uneven at the ends because I almost never get it trimmed), and parted one way or another. I didn't even know there were hair style options that were wash and wear besides long and simple.

NM knows how to do her hair, but she wasn't inclined to teach me. She was only interested in braiding my hair because she liked to (and complains now how I often wouldn't let her). She'd buy E-Sis and I curling irons and curlers, but were clueless about how to actually use them and she didn't show us how to. For the longest time all I knew about blow drying my hair was flipping it upside and zapping it until it was dry (and ugly). I still don't know how to use a curling iron or curlers, though I'm interesting in learning now. It literally was not until this year that learned how to use a round brush to dry my hair straight and neatly.

Still, I'm a wash and wear kind of gal. I don't want to have to get up extra early to do my hair. So at dinner I was talking with a much more hair and fashion savvy friend about what would be a good hair style for me, and telling her how I was anxious and that changing it was a big deal for me. I almost wanted to cry just talking about it. I'm anxious because I don't know how a new hair style will look and I want to pick something that will look nice and that I will like. I don't want to be stuck waiting for something ugly to grow back out. And then E-Sis, who cares nothing about her appearance and has no sense of empathy, decides to chime in, saying to just not do anything drastic to my hair. I tell her when it's been unchanged for a decade or two, any change is big change, any change is drastic. Then at one point, she tells our friend that I'm "afraid of change."

Which brings me to delayed reaction part of this post. The woman who has never moved out of her parents home has the nerve to tell me that I'm afraid of change? Me, who has moved out, married, and traveled out of the country, is afraid of change? But I didn't react to that at all until DH and I left and he mentioned it. It would have hit me the next day on my own, he just sped up the process. Anyway, I seem to have delayed reaction to things that should make me angry or hurt. It's like I don't notice it right away, not until I examine things after the fact. Obliviously I smile and nod until later I realize that I'm offended. I don't know why it happens.

Perfect example: the other day a friend cancelled plans for this weekend that were made two weeks ago, because there's a surprise birthday party for a friend. Then she explains yesterday its for a person she's trying to become with friends with!? I was all like "Okay, cool" but today I realized that really stings! I could have done without my friend giving me that much detail about the reason. So becoming friends with that person is more important than honoring a prior engagement with an older friend? What am I, second string? Sure, Adela has and will always be there, right?  She'll be the fallback when you've got nothing else going on? She won't mind, she's always so accommodating!

Well not anymore, that's going on your permanent record, friend. Next time something like this happens I won't be so accommodating and I'll call you out your rudeness.

The First Epiphany

My first epiphany regarding my mother wasn't when I connected her with NPD. It came after a series of events too specific and identifying for me to be comfortable posting. In sum, a very important family decision was made with out me, I was given incorrect information by NM, and when I tried to discuss different options based on the incorrect information, I became the bad guy. To be fair I was acutely aware of being the dissenter and was on hyper alert for signs of attack. As such, I readily admit I am not entirely blameless in the situation that followed. Ironically, the initial ensuing conflict regarding my dissent did not directly involve NM, but she threw herself into because she loves to be a martyr. This, "The Incident" as I like to call it, was the beginning of the path that would lead up to "The Confrontation". If you are interested in the details of said event(s), you are welcome to e-mail me for more information and if I feel confident you are in no way associated with my family I'll share the whole blown out of proportion mess, the two straws that broke the camel's back, so to speak.

After basically being told what a horrible person I was and having my pain and suffering utterly invalidated by NM (story of my life), I had the epiphany over dinner with my best friend. The words of a wise professor came floating back to me. I don't remember them exactly, but it was something along the lines of  "When somebody tells you to stop crying or you're being too sensitive, it's because they can't handle your feelings." That your feelings are yours and they can't be wrong, nobody can tell you they are wrong because they are yours and only you truly know them, and so on. Suddenly, I realized I was not the one with a problem. It was NM's problem if she didn't like or couldn't handle the feelings I had. It wasn't my problem, it never was. It was hers, it was always hers. She, for whatever reason, could not deal with my feelings. I was practically giddy with delight at this realization. Well, there might have been a little wine involved in that, too.

Connecting those words with my NM was the first step toward the truth. I remember it very clearly, right down to where in the room my professor was standing when he said them. I remember liking those words, but not connecting them at all to NM at the time. When I did connect them, it was amazing, a weight I had carried all my life was gone. I hadn't learned the proper term for NM's behavior yet (invalidation), but I knew the concept. And knowing it was incredible. I wasn't completely ready to act on it though. That would come later, after I had connected NPD to my mother and learned more about it, when the second and final straw came, that I call "The Second Incident" lead me to confront her about about her behavior, especially her invalidation.