Tuesday, January 27, 2015


Time goes slowly now in my life
Fear no more of what I'm not sure
Searching to feel your soul
The strength to stand alone
The power of not knowing and letting go
I guess I've found my way
It's simple when it's right
Feeling lucky just to be here, tonight
And happy just to be me
And be alive
Love in and out of my, my heart
And though life
Can be strange
I can't be afraid
Searching to feel your soul
The strength to stand alone
The power of not knowing and letting go
I guess I've found my way
It's simple when it's right
Feeling lucky just to be here, tonight
And happy just to be me
And be alive
I guess I've found my way
It's simple when it's right
Feeling lucky just to be here tonight
And happy just to be me
And be alive

This is such a wonderful song.  I can't listen to it with dry eyes 

Sunday, January 25, 2015

My Lifetime of Poverty

Sorry, long post, but if you want to read about poverty, starvation, wife assault, and ACON abuse this is it.

When I entered the ACON online world, it came with a bang.  There was no feelings of normalcy there, it threw me for a loop.  There was such a huge difference between the day before my awakening and after, the turn around was 180 degrees.  I remember thinking, this can't be real.  I went to the liquor store and bought 4 marguaritas, drank three, then passed out on the couch.

Yes mother was a horrible person, no more denying that, but better than that there was a whole new world to explore.  Both those thoughts came together as one.  I learned too that poverty was real and I met, for what seemed to be for the first time of my life, some poor people.  I was wondering, "Where the heck have you guys been all my life."  There were never any poor people around me and I had been poorer than poor for most of my life.  With no one to hold my hand.

I feel so connected to the poor now.  I work at a food bank, and I can see the pain of poverty, and I try to do all I can to give comfort.  I know everything that is needed in that state.  They need a hot cup of tea, a place to sit down, a paper that they fill out.  I am proud to say that our clients fill out their own list of needs, not me.  "Do you need this, do you need that?"  To me that was the most degrading question.  I felt horrible all the time and degraded when I was a client.  And I never doubted that is what they wanted me to feel.  They seemed to probe for more degradation, demoralization.

Some people will tell you that there is no shame in being poor.  Really?  What planet are you on.  Of course there is shame, even from the one who is supposed to love you.  It makes you a low value person, very, very helpless and stupid.  Let's be realistic here.  Why didn't anyone actually connect to me?  Why did they sit all happy and tell me that and ask me a huge list of invasive questions.  Early on realized that you weren't allowed boundaries when your poor.

The first thing I did to change the food bank in my area in with asking the question of the clients, "Why are you here again?" Just stop asking that question, go make them a tea, and go get the food. That question is invasive, and traumatizing to someone is is already suffering a trauma.  Let it be.  I always hated that question.  And when I was in need I would lie about it if I had to.  I might still have some starchy food left in my cupboards, but I am not going to say that, in case they sent me home empty handed.  Their starches were always better.

I have been to the place where there was nothing in the cupboards.  On the verge of starvation. Absolutely nothing to eat at all.  Near dinnertime was a panic.  I have never been to a soup kitchen, but I got very clever with some random flour in the cupboard.  There is a bannock bread, just requiring flour and baking powder.  I've made a meal out of that.  Cornmeal, whatever.  I was always on my own, even when I had a husband.  Husband just expected his dinner, and was oblivious to what I would make it, or even cared.  Yes, seriously.  He ate the bannock bread and freaked if he didn't get enough syrup.

But really there is no shame in being poor.  It is a crampy feeling but yes its true.  It doesn't make us low value people either.  A high value person always has something to give in regards to emotional resources, and that is hard to find.  But try to hold on to your emotional resources when your in a state of poverty.  It is very hard.  It seemed to me that the really needy people were there ones who volunteered at the food bank.  They seemed to like to hear that I couldn't feed my family.  This is a rant.  They liked me to say that I couldn't feed my family.  They do not need to be asking invasive questions.  If you feel that you have to answer them in case you get no food, then lie to them whatever.  You have my permission to do so.  No one is going to take advantage of a food bank. Seriously, they walk for miles to carry back a couple of bags of food.  Even in the dead of winter. Even if they take advantage, of course those people do exist, they do not count in with the actual people who need it.  I seem to rant about the very people who are there to help.  But in my very honest opinion, yes, they are there to help, but sometimes I swear they glorify in it!

It seemed like my ex-husbands kept us poor too.  Abusive to the hilt and they didn't always need to be physical to abuse me.  I was afraid people here would think I left my ex's because they had no money, but that wasn't true at all.  In fact, if they were poor and loving, that would have been great.  If we were in this thing together, that would have changed everything.  Perhaps, I could have had my awakening a lot sooner.  I was never about the money.  In fact, when I got involved with my second ex, he said all we need is food on the table and I agreed.  Heck, was I stupid.  Food on the table, which mainly came from charity.  That's ok, he used to say, we have actually earned it.  And I thought we were in this together.  That I had a protector, a man, a true soul.

You know all that would be fine.  I would be great with it.  Food pantries, no problem.  Sure we were malnurished most of the time, but it would have been great to have someone hold my hand.  But, he was cruel.  To me and the children.  In fact, I remember everyone around me saying such a great guy he was.  We had friends we would go visiting.  For just one example of his abuse, he would order me to help a friend with taking out her garbage.  She was taking out her garbage as we were just walking in her house and he would tell me to take it from her and give her a hand.  I actually had the gumption to ask him why he would do this.  There is some things that just can't get past a hollowed out husk.  "Oh, its because you are selfish, you need to learn to not be selfish."  This was his way of teaching me I guess.  But it was abuse, plain and simple.

My first ex-husband would expect his dinner after partying with his friends.  He would steal the little bit of money I had,   I remember once I had a $100 in my purse.  I was excited that I was going to fill the freezer, the fridge and all the cupboards.  When I went to get the money out, only $40 remained. He admitted to taking some.  He thought he was good and behaved for not taking it all.  Then he beat the crap out of me for saying anything.  He went back to his party and left me unconscious on the floor with 2 little children playing in the livingroom.  When I woke up, I was grateful to God that they somehow managed to stay put.

My second ex-husband, well, he was "much better".  No partying, no drinking, he was better behaved and didn't hit me.  He just always threatened to.  But he slept all the time, well most of the time.  Or watching tv, or eating or masturbating or watching porn.  I got blamed for this because I was never there for him.  But I will admit I was closed off, I was in survival mode.  I'll tell you that when I get in survival mode, it isn't lovely.  I wasn't amazingly wonderful either.  But I was alone.  When he was up out of bed, or not watching tv, about cutting me down.  And all his cut downs were somehow "logical".  I have to admire the creative, ingenious way narcs are so logical.  That's why I said way back in the beginning don't trust your logic.  Trust your emotions.  If someone says something to me I don't feel good about, it doesn't matter how it sounds, just how it made me feel.

We were poor and he had no want of making anything better.  Or trying.  He never tried.  I can't excuse him for being poor because he didn't care or want more.  He seemed to wear the poverty as a trophy, as did my mother.  There was no consideration for eachother.  And I couldn't reach out to him either.  Who could reach out and hug a snake?  We weren't poor "together".  I needed togetherness but he wouldn't give it.  He was charming and everyone said he was wonderful.  His malignant narcissism made him a very charming person.  And me into the awful abuser because I expected him to try to get a job.

I'd obtain really great jobs, making piles of money, but I couldn't keep them.  I was a mess and it wouldn't take long for that to be discovered.  At first employers saw that I was smart and that I obtained an education in engineering.  Well, then the rest was horrible.  I had no ability to function as a normal person in a normal world.

Let me tell you something.  I met some real down to earth wonderful and actual poor people on line. These people had good educations too, but somehow we tend to walk around with holes in our gathering baskets. Unable to rise to the top.  This was all caused by an abusive childhood.  I realized right away I only loved my mother in theory, because I was supposed to.  The real authentic me couldn't stand that creep.

Yes, I have been poor most of my life.  I have earned up to $50 an hour.  Does that make sense?

I was a math whiz, I was the cream of the crop.  Mother was so jealous she destroyed it.  Who knows what advances I could have made in the world, that disgusting pig took it all.  (this is nothing against pigs, on the farm I knew they were wonderful mothers).  All for a whoring miserable twat.

Sigh, I wish I could just make a clean blog, I really do.

When I ran here to this man I'm with now(in survival mode) I could never have known what the heck I was getting myself into.  He could have been one evil bastard, and could have killed me.  In no way was I capable of having a good relationship.  I drew in only the con artists.  But I guess this time God showed me some mercy.

And no, he is not perfect.  In fact he can be hard at times.  If I am suffering from something, he seems to get to the heart of the issue.  When I cry about something, he gets quiet and listens for my next cue to tell him what to do.  And no one thinks he's a nice guy.  Awesome.  He is not a nice guy, he really isn't.

I'm darn proud of this treasure I found.  He is not poor but I would love him like crazy even if he was. The time I met him, he was going through his divorce, which he made sure his ex got next to nothing. Oh no.  This is a real a-hole.

I suppose he is.  He is a bit of an a-hole at times.  and I love it.  I have someone I can talk to and depend on.  Yes, his ex didn't take him for everything.  She said she was going to, she tried, she said she was going to take him for everything.  But all she did fell through.

And you know, my best MN ex friend told me, "Well, he's a bastard, imagine he will do the same to you, you don't have any control over this man, he is too strong."

Too strong?  Is that even possible.  Ok, he would do the same thing to me.  I know I have to be ok with that.  We can't have this sense of entitlement, its covered all over my relationship site.  In fact, everything is threatened by loss.  You can't have a relationship without a deep understanding of the man.  And that I do.  He's not the type to let someone take him for all he's got, he's not.  I wouldn't care if he was poor in fact, but I do want this guy regardless of anything.  Him, all of him, each and everyday and I get to have him.  I didn't get to have my ex's, I didn't.  I had no part of them.

He is my protector, he has shown me that in every way.  He even stands up to me, takes no crap from me.  I know I'm hypervigilante, I can't seem to function past that for now, but he knows when something is real from me or when it is not.  He has keen insight.  He knows when I'm trying to cover.  He also treats his subordinates at work with clear respect.  He's one of those who holds people accountable, he's someone to learn from.

My gosh, has he been such a gift to me.  He is a gift, I don't walk around feeling entitled.  His love is a gift and so is his very presence.  He gives me everything, I don't have no need to feel entitled about it.

All I want is everything, pure and simple.  But I had to earn this relationship it didn't come easy.  All he seems to really want is to be accepted and that I do.  We don't worry about bills or poverty, but if we did he would deprive himself to make sure that I had what I need.  He is like that.  Unlike the "sweet" guy.  I'm tired of the "sweet" guys.  He is not a sweet guy and I'm grateful for that.  That means he never is out for appearances, he never cares about that.  He does not see my vulnerability as something to trample on either.  He loves the truth.

As poor as stale dirt was I.  I remember the stigma of that, it still hurts to this day, and I can't escape it.  When you want something, you can't have it.  It would be a way my ex would call me selfish if ever I wanted something.  Throw it in my face the selfish word.  I have heard that word before and it made me behave.  I was brainwashed with it.  Even though we had state of the art tv sets and computers.  We sacrificed basic needs to have these.  He was in charge.  I remember not having any shampoo for weeks at a time.  Just used bar soap.  I have washed the laundry with  just plain water at times, no money for detergent.  My ex told me it was good for me, use my elbow grease to take out the stains.  BUT WE HAD A STATE OF THE ART SOUND SYSTEM, AND TV THOUGH, and cable tv, we coudn't afford.

Even now, its hard for me to get my needs met.  I can't just ask for things, and men don't understand anything that isn't direct talk.  "Take out the garbage,"  can't just say it stinks in the kitchen.  This is the trouble I go through now.  I've tried "hinting" at things, that never works.  I know normal women have this problem with men, ACON women, much worse, I think, at least for me because I was called selfish all my life.

He is a great man but I can moan and groan on the couch about something and he doesn't understand until I "spill the beans".  Oh, how I hate that.  It feels uncomfortable.  It's hard for me to speak, I told him that, and he understands.  But he doesn't.  I'm a little angry at him right now, so I don't want to say too much into that.

Mother always called me selfish, even for no reason.  It was always there and it burns a hole right through me.  There is one thing to be poor, and another thing when poverty is used against you.  I've had that happen to me always.  I've been hurt and screwed over because of it.

You know I couldn't hold down a job.  I didn't know why.  When I wasn't working I was in counselling, that was my life.  I always tried so hard, to no avail, till now.  Well, anyway, my ex's family used to bash me over it.  Never him, always me.  He would never stand up for me.  He would never take care of me, he would revel in their unkindness.  They might have held me at a higher standard than him but I really have to wonder if its because I was a target, an easy target.  How come there is a part of a hollowed out husk that still feels?  How come?   How come I never got used to it.

I think that's a gift now.  It's by feeling that I was able to find my way through.  Too bad, it took so long.  I blamed God.  How the heck could have let this happen?  I have worshipped him for all my life, and this seemed like a huge joke.

Nothing is worse than finding out you were a victim of emotional child abuse.  It was a horror, there is nothing worse than this.  I know my prayer times are unsteady, my bible reading is inconsistent, but I do try.  And I found out that ACON's have problems with simple things such as self care, brushing their teeth.  How could prayer and bible study be any different than self care?  But I was always blaming myself for these things.

What the heck did I do to deserve this?  Mother doesn't even deserve any form of existence, how come she exists?  Ok, let them be narcs, but don't let them raise children.  I think of my youngest daughter and its just a blur.

My good FOO was only a figment of my imagination.  If I realized that as a child I would have seen the truth.  It was easier to believe lies.  no, it wasn't easier to believe lies, lies were what I was taught. Mother was the only one screaming in our household though, we weren't a whole household of narcs.

God is actually trying to tell me why it is this way.  Maybe I'm not ready to listen just yet.  I think He still wants me to grieve it some more.  But how the heck could I have lived a life of being blamed, and never having control over it.

I know there will come a day when we are all in heaven and all is said and done, and it won't matter a million years into eternity who the heck my parents were.  But for me, and now, this sucks.  I never stopped believing in God and all He is capable of so we'll see what He does.

Ok, I do forgive God, not that He needs my forgiveness, because in His way and in His time he will even this all out.

So anyway, back to poverty.  I've been hurt by it, cast aside by others by it, had an ex MN friend who loved me in poverty.  So did my mother.  She told me all the time, I would be poor all my life. Really mother? She seemed to enjoy saying that.  She never had any intention but to see me spend my life in anything but poverty or killed by an abusive man.  She set me up for life.  I realize she is a murderer although she didn't get it accomplished.  It would have happened.  Maybe that is what God wanted to show me, that He kept me alive, I don't know.

Even though I spent most of my life malnourished from poverty, I seem to have excellent health.  Ok, maybe that is one consolation.  Not all ACON's have that though.  Some have to face a lifelong illness and poverty.  Some have someone to hold through it, some don't.

A life of poverty takes it's toll.  I would like to say that "we" struggled through tough times, but I never had a "we".  It was always up to me to figure out how to put food on the table, I never had a man.  Nowadays, if the tv or computer konks out, I do NOTHING.  Yay, I never wanted to be the independent woman.  I want that to be taken care of for me.  It kinda feels like being treated like a queen.  Before with my ex's it was all up to me.  I was expected to be independent.

I didn't plan on being poor, it was all a set up.  I think that if you are an ACON and you are poor, your parents set it up this way, just as surely as they set the table.  How do you find your way out of it?  I don't know.  I have no answers.  I would like to set up a program, and try to figure it out for everyone.

I was set up to fail in life, even to die.  The bitch didn't win. (ok I know I want a clean blog, I might start posting recipes of cupcakes soon, just kidding.)

Saturday, January 17, 2015

In Times of War

This post is not meant to blame or shame anyone, and I believe I can make my point without having to do that.  This particular blogger wants this situation gone and I totally respect that.  I will let it go for her sake, and not use this as a blasting post.  This is still lingering for me.  As always feelings need to be addressed.  Otherwise they will linger around for years.  And come back to haunt you eventually.

Feelings are normal.  Like this feeling of fear I have sometimes needs to be addressed or will linger. Nowadays, I allow myself to feel fear deeply, and it has been good.  I don't live with fear each and every minute of the day any longer.  But first fear needed to be addressed.  Fear has to have a place, otherwise it screams to be acknowledged.

There is a situation that happened and although the situation is all done with the parties(apparently) it is not all done for me.  I'm just guessing here but I feel it is not over for a lot of us.  Feelings got trampled on and I can't let those feelings just go.  Although I didn't get involved with the blog war, one of my lovely comments made its way from the blog I intended it to go into a blog posting spewing nothing but hate and spite.

I can't help but feel my boundaries were invaded.  Now I can hear a voice from the past telling me to let it go, it doesn't really matter.  But as always, I didn't let it go and I would get beaten up or something.   Now I see why I would always get beaten up.  

Someone made a mistake and she was dragged through the mud for a long time.  It wasn't worth doing that to her, she was learning and trying and made a mistake.  That mistake was passing on some misinformation.  It's going to happen if we are to try to leave our comfort zones, its going to happen.  There will be screw ups.

I went to the site where my comment was unnecessarily inserted into.  I had to read the posting several times as there was too much hate.  I still can't figure out if they are a multiple personality disorder site or a transsexual site.  Either way it had nothing to do with me, and I don't relate to either of those issues. Thus, to me, my comment had no business on their site.

The author said they were crying all day over it.  He was using his disability for significance.  Apparently, the woman who marginalized him was growing in popularity and he hated it.  Now, isn't it that strange?  I can tell you that jealously usually is a loss of significance which I can get because it is a core value that humans have.  If he wanted to grow his blog, he needed to take steps in order to do that, not to cut someone else down.  She removed the offending post.

It wasn't enough.  He was asking for an apology from the blogger.  When I went to her blog it seemed like she was apologizing all over the place, but she wasn't apologizing?  What did he want?

I can tell you what he wanted.  He wanted to drive someone down, and not only her, but all of us who he published our comments into his blog.  Significance is a powerful human core need, and it can get so messed up.  We will always fight to win that thing.  It is a survival trait really.  Without it, if someone is better than you, you could starve to death or be killed.  It is well rooted into our hard wiring from centuries of battles.  Even when we live in modern times, these things are still going on. You will not escape your hard wiring.

If you think you are above it, just try to go without eating for a day (if you aren't diabetic) just do it. See how your hard wiring will kick in.  Now you will not starve to death in one day, but your mind won't leave you alone.  I'm not just talking about stomach growling or hurting.  Just your mind.  Your mind will do everything to try to convince you to eat.  It needs to for survival.

So enough about that.  This made me feel violated.  Tossed under the bus, thrown aside.  I left a comment over on his site and he never published it.  I was trying to tell him how I felt, a very simple and authentic comment and he didn't publish it.  Perhaps, it was because I told him what and who I am.  I don't remember the comment exactly, but, what I approximately wrote was, - How dare you take my comment I made for another site, I have nothing to do with this place.  I was raised as a baby on my mother's lap till my mid teens.  From there, thrown out into the world to be used and abused by psychopaths, the very group you are defending.  I will not be abused again.  You are the one who should apologize.

Nothing wrong with that right?  He didn't publish it.  He acted so entitled as to not even have to address someone who he had offended.

It seemed that taking my comment was such an easy thing to do.  People do what they want.  I suppose there are no laws against this.  And no common sense either.

A mental illness does not give anyone the right to use and abuse.  I personally don't feel that he was coming from his mental illness because of the studies I have done on human nature from my relationship site.  By simply going to his marginalization for the gratifying feeling of significance. If it was coming from his mental illness, then it would have been a lot different.  They don't fill needs, they just collapse.  I don't know the man, I can't tell for sure, but that is what sense he is doing.  The need for significance needs to be addressed for each and every individual on their own.  Even in relationships we are not to feed that need for significance for one another.  If a person feels a sense of loss it is not up to me to fill that need.

We don't get to hurt others simply because.  And those who take an enormous pride in hurting others just because, just because...........he is a marginalized group.  No way.  My mother felt very entitled. She robbed me of my identity because her own existence sucked, did that make it right?  No it wasn't. And surely I will never let that happen with anyone ever again.  Although I can't guarantee that.

The woman was very nice to him.  And he threw daggers at that.  You know why?  Because she was too nice.  It's ok to be nice.  But it reaches the point of being needy usually.  We can't live our lives pleasing others.  He felt like he lost his significance through this particular blogger.  I get that.  That makes sense, its very human.  But that was his own problem.  If he wanted to he can grow his own blog.  He can grow his blog, there is so much information about that, it shouldn't be a problem.  But a big blog means huge responsibilities.  Do you want to write up to 4-5 posts a day?  That's what it is. And to respond to 20 commenters or more that's fine.  That's what she does, all the time.  With a full time job on top of that.

There is a price for significance.  And it can go horribly wrong at any time.  You have to be prepared. She is not perfect and I don't expect her to write everything I agree with either.  As ACON's it's to important to now get to voice ourselves.  I appreciate her authenticity, it is refreshing in this world.

I felt so much like I did in the past.  That I didn't matter, only this marginalized man counted.  I don't want to participate in his site yet there is my comment.  No one should be allowed to do that. That is why we ask permission for things.  I support the ACON online community.  And my relationship community that has kept me out of abusive relationships.  Or any other community that I choose to be in.

He says she is not well read enough to be talking about the topic.  So what?  Neither am I.  I am not well read on anything except relationships.  Just so I could stay alive.  And that is very recent.  Does he want to blame us for that?  You know why I'm not well read on things?  I have spent my whole life trying to stay alive, how could I have found the time to be well read.  If she made a mistake, shouldn't that be ok? Mistakes are good, right?  If he made a peaceful helpful, educational correction, she would have definitely appreciated it.

Take for instance a baby learning to walk.  He tries to get up, he has no idea how much to bend his knee, or how balance works.  You walk over to him to help him up or put out some toys which he leans on, still he has to learn to get it himself.

Just like this woman.  She wants to try to educate and teach people.  Sure she might get it wrong.  I don't agree with everything she says.  Its a learning curve.  She wants to get it.  I see her good intentions. She is at a place where she is really, really trying hard.  She works hard and her job is at the poverty level, but somehow I can see this would have been a big player in society if she wasn't an ACON.

I can't feel sorry for any marginalized group.  There are some good and some bad in every group, but when you take the name of your group and abuse in its name it loses.  When you make it obvious you are abusing your human rights you lose.  That's just the way it is.

I really hate what has happened.  I can't feel my feelings for recovery and leave this aside for the sake of letting it go.  There is no need to top toe around issues.  Help us, don't hinder us.  If I am that offensive, well, maybe that is my problem to deal with, not anyone else's.  As a matter of fact if you tip toe around anyone it is dangerous.  More dangerous than being open.  And if someone requires you to tiptoe around them, then maybe you should just get away.  This is a clear warning sign.  And narcissists break boundaries all the time for significance.

If you need to learn, and need to grow, by all means do so.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

My Father

I have trouble putting things into perspective.  This part is very confusing for me.  I would have to start with saying that my father was never a partaker in any child abuse.  None.  He didn't abuse me, or emotionally molest me or sexually molest me, or anything.  He was innocent.  He walked away and left us behind, and I never felt all that close to him.  When he died it was a casual thing for me. No real feelings regarding him.

Here's a problem.  I hate certain music.  I love to visit other ACON blogs, but I have to be careful when they post music.  I have to identify the song right away, sometimes I just can't listen to it. For instance, I hate the music from Newfoundland, Canada.  It's tone is very painful.  I have memories there I can't even think about.

My husband loves classic rock music.  This is painful to me too.  The fact that he loves it and I hate it, well, I'm not going to stop him from listening to his music.  Now, it doesn't bother me so much anymore.  I've grown used to it.  Dulled, numb, maybe, but maybe someday I'll have to explore those feelings for real.

And when my husband drives the truck in the snowy road and it slides all over.  He doesn't even put it in 4-wheel drive.  He doesn't.  He just slides all over.  It sometimes reaches the side over the abyss. This scares the crap out of me when I'm with him.  He doesn't say anything.  Just does it.  I don't say anything.  I didn't want to say anything to him till I explored these feelings.  And one day I looked over at him and I realized he just loves doing this.  Like a little boy, he loves how the truck slides all over and he plays with it like a Tonka.

Other people have emotions and feelings.  They have their lives they live.  They do things and they effect me like a burden I have to bear.  And I'm not very good at it.

I'm all over this thing about my father.  He too had his problems with mother I'm so sure, and those were oblivious to me.  I don't know exactly what would have turned out if we kids were not all triangulated against him.  If father spoke his mind or whatever.  What would have happened.  Truth was, we all turned on him and went to the "safety" of mother.  Because father was "bad".

The goal here is to find a way to piece back together the truth about father.  I will have to eliminate the triangulation and see for the first time through my adult eyes what he really was all about.  It is important to break free from this, it is part of the healing process.  We do not want to see things through the eyes of a psychopath.  No, not at all.  I don't feel like my father was a psychopath at all. Sure he left us and he fought with my oldest brother, but that was a triangle too, orchestrated by mother.  I doesn't seem that father "chose" to leave his mess of a family.  I think he was driven out. That and the lack of knowledge of how psychopathy works, is damaging, and so he went to the booze for salvation.

Father had his issues too.  His own mother died when he was 3 years old.  Then he had a wicked stepmother.  Maybe he was drawn to the abusive woman?  I'm not a psychologist I can't sort this part out, but just take for granted that he too was probably an ACON.

Father left us when I was 13.  It didn't matter.  It was ok.  "Your father never loved you, he never cared for you", mother would continually say.  In a sing song tone.  This meant she was lying.  I didn't know it then, I know that now.  When she didn't want to admit something like at my brother's funeral, to pretend she was grieving, she just used the sing song tone.  I didn't know it back then so this was hard.  I didn't want to believe it but I had to believe it because mother said it.  Over and over again, for days, for weeks, for years.

The challenges I faced from that point on was terrible.  I was 13. We were suddenly so poor.  Courts don't award the women of divorce as nicely as we think they do.  Mother didn't get much but the farm.  Taxes were high and the support she received from him had to be supplemented by welfare.  In a few short years, she would be forced to get a job or sell the farm.  Alas, she wasn't the type to want anything either.  Her narcissistic supply feed was now about being poor.  There was moments I could actually feel sorry for her.  I don't like to think about that anymore, poor impoverished mom, that would tank the whole goal of trying to figure out everything.  Mother didn't mind being poor, or trying to raise kids on little money, this was narcissistic supply.  If you think I'm heartless, then don't read just this one article, rest the rest of the blog, put it into context.

When I was in high school I wanted to get a permanent in my hair.  I had this straight hair that wasn't in style in the 80's.  I asked father for the money.  Father paid for it but he took it out of the support money he would give to mother.  I didn't know this would happen.  I asked him for the permanent and he took the money out of the support.  Mother told me this over and over again.  This was a major supply for her, she loved it.  For months until that perm grew out of my hair, I had that sad fact that it came out of the food bill.

There was the time mother had to go to court for her support because it suddenly stopped.  I wasn't in court but apparently father talked of me and the fact he was helping me through college.  He wasn't helping me through college, but what he actually did do, he gave me a few pots and pans and one very old tv.  He was trying to get out of paying his support to mother that way.  I had my own apartment in the city, so when I was visiting mother one time, her boyfriend told me this.  He was shacked up with mother, and he was laughing at me telling me I robbed my father of everything he had and that is why mother would receive no support.  Laughing and talking about it ALL F*CKING WEEKEND.  I didn't fight back, I couldn't.  It was stupid of me to stay there all weekend, I should have just stayed at my apartment in the city.  Mother loved him because she said he would make her toes curl up in bed, an absolute must in her relationships.  (ok, I'll try and make the rest of this posting cleaner).

Ok, back to my father.  He was overpowered by a horrible monster, my mother.  That I do know.  But relating with my father after he turned to booze and wild women was very hard.  He was always drunk after a certain point of my formative years.  Never even reaching out to us, never giving us a clue as to what was going on.  Isn't that an ACON trait?  We just thought he was awful and refused to regard him as father, . This was programming.  Survival instinct had kicked in and we had to battle the forces of darkness to survive, and this meant hating our father.

When father got old and sick, only one brother took care of him.  The rest of us couldn't or else we would face the wrath of mother.  Its been years and mother still won't talk to that brother.  Never mind that she had one son that died and he is the only son she has left alive, she won't talk to him. Mother blames brother's MN wife or the fact that she didn't get anything in the will or something like that.  It weird how that seems to fly with everyone now.  I have no ability to convict her for the awful crime that she won't talk to brother over the very fact that he helped father.  Just my own belief and that of the way it was growing up.

For as long as I can remember, maybe at the age of 2 or 3 or 4, mother and father had an active sex life.  They would romp and play and have good times with eachother and the sexual part, well, I can tell you that was intact.  When things ended, they ended coldly, with a hrmph from mother and that was all.  She was never in love.  She was never capable of it.  I think father was, but the confusion for him was that the sex was good.  Some men get so caught up in it, that they can't see when their partner doesn't give a crap about him otherwise.  I have no idea how she got away with bringing nothing to his life but the sex.  But, oh well.

But let me tell you of the wonderful growing up we had while things were still intact with my parents.  Father was kind, sweet, compassionate.  We would go to the store in town, father would give us a few coins, and we would buy candy.  Father had good relationships with people in town, he talked to everyone.  Always open, not an ACON trait I think, and he was ok with people.  Butchering cattle on the farm was never a problem.  He had meat managers all over the place cutting up the beef for him.  I'm not sure how he had social skills at all.  Maybe he wasn't an ACON.  Do all ACON's have no social skills?

It was fun how being around father was incredible at times.  He would take us in town grocery shopping even.  And this was like a huge event.  I still remember how much he spent on groceries every week, it was $80 and exactly 8 loaves of bread my parents bought for the week.

Father built me a pen to house my guinea pigs.  I still love guinea pigs and that beeping sound they make and it will always remind me of my kind father.  I can remember now the fun we had doing that, it was a hot day in May.  I had no worries or concerns.  Father had the plans for the pen all figured out, all I had to do what help a little.  This was a perfect time.  Father was always busy so these special times were precious.  It is painful to recall how mother would be sitting on the step and I felt she was jealous.  How old was I?  Maybe 8 or 9 but I felt she was jealous.  Is that normal I would think that? I don't remember her even telling me she was jealous.  I would have to pull away from father though because the feeling was that strong.

He would take me berry picking, this was an awesome time.  And I even remember smelling those pink wild roses, those will always remind me of him too.   I would ride my pony right past those wild roses which naturally grew in a row.  He liked the show, "The Rockford Files".  I can't ever bring myself to watch the reruns.

Everything to do with father memories is so melancholy though.  TV shows.  Not that he watched a lot of tv, because he worked so hard.  He had it where he was always busy.  He was short of stature, a short Frenchman, just like Napoleon, and always busy, busy busy.

I can remember so much about how mother talked bad about father.  That he was no electrician but he did the electricity in the barn hazardly.  Ok, that is bad.  One day when my brother and I came home from school, mother was badly burnt up.  Apparently, this happened over the bad electrical job father did.  So when she went into the barn to do the noontime chores this happened.

She could not communicate with father about how the electrical work he did scared her.  This was going to surely make him realize it.  She couldn't connect to him in any other way.  So I get that part.

When I first turned 13, I stepped on an axe.  Father was at work at the time and wasn't home, mother was and some friends we had visiting.  The friends got me to the hospital.  The axe split my little toe down to almost the middle of the foot.  I was a long time getting it repaired.  Father was blamed for leaving the axe out.  I didn't really get blamed for stepping on the axe because mother needed to blame father.  I remember him at that time.  He would walk away from me from then on.  He wouldn't even talk to me.  What did he expect of me?  To defend him?  To mother?  Seriously?

I know there was attempted rape talk about father and my older sister.  Sister said father tried to rape her.  I never got that, and I still can't figure that one out.  Because it was a rape accusation I will not judge it. And it wasn't my issue.  My sister did have sex with many married men.  Even, mother had to interject one time when a wife fought back.  That was horrible.  She was mean to a woman who was only trying to hold her family together.

I think at some point I did doubt my mothers insistent belief system.  I was disgusted by it.  Feminism was running rampant by then.  It was all over the place.  It was this system that gave her fuel to hate father.  She used it as a tool and as a weapon against father.  "Men are no good, men are creeps men rape, men screw anything, etc, etc."  She used feminism as a way of never bringing anything to anyone's life really.  I don't know.  It gave her a sense of entitlement, and she increased her abuse.  I guess it was the whole liberation phase.  It wasn't explained too well.  Feminism caught on too quickly and it didn't seem to require much knowledge.  She thought she was entitled to everything, including hurting people.

I remember wanting a positive and healthy relationship with father when I was little, just like my brother did.  Brother seemed to be allowed to have it at that time, and I wasn't.  I was told father was a pig and couldn't be trusted.  Why?  I got no ill vibes from father, I certainly wasn't scared of him. He was fatherly, that was all.  As far as mother treating me like the baby?  Well, father never did treat me that way, it was mother and this was normal in our family.  So I guess father thought it was normal and loving too.  I don't know, he never said anything.

When I was about 8 I remember an incident where we were sitting down in the living room.  Father was outside with his friend, and his friend came barreling into the house to fight with mother about something mother said about his wife.  I don't remember what evil mother said about the man's wife, but the man was furious.  Mother said that she didn't say anything about his wife.  Father was just behind the man and bellowed, "You did so, you said it, why are you lying?  You are always lying."  Mother continued to say she didn't say anything, and so father went at her and physically attacked her.  I ran from the room screaming, I was so hurt by father, and not by mother.  To this day, that seems so strange.  If mother had said something badly about someone, its ok, I sort of gave her that entitlement.

I know father had no good reason to tell this man what mother had said, other than the fact is that maybe father was trying his best at revenge.  Mother could tarnish anyone's reputation, and she seemed to make it a life goal, that I know.  If I ever get the opportunity to write mother's obituary, I'm going to add that.  But I was too young to know what it really was all about.

After father left, mother had many, many lovers.  One of which was a married man who came over now and then for a booty call.  When he would leave and go back to his family, then the incident would be forgotten about till he came back again.  Even if she was a woman's friend, she would still do your husband.  She said this was good.  No long term commitments for her at the time, she was "devoted to her children".  But, of course, sexual needs must be met.

Not me.  I wanted marriage, and I ended up 18-20 years with no good husbands.  One of which could never get out of bed.  That's ok, just be a good wifey he is your responsibility to take care of.  Even church members told me that, he will get better.  You know what?  He is still in bed. He can't escape it.  He will be there till the end of his days.  I didn't want him, I didn't want him almost right away after seeing what he was like.  I could barely work.  I had anxiety issues up the ying yang.  He didn't care about that, and treated me like an idiot.  I had to work, and figure out my own way.  Truth was, I didn't want this big grown up man in diapers.  There was no reason for him to be always sick.  A psychologist told me that.  The doctor said, "This life works for him."  One psycologist told me directly, "Yes, he does suffer from depression, but why would he want to get better?  So he has to work?  No way, he has got it too good."  My MN friend I had told me not to believe that doctor, but oh well.

My second ex told me all the time I annoyed him.  He told me that I was unpredictable, and I was all over the place.  He told me it was all my fault he was so "sick".  My MN friends encouraged that.   He told me to direct my life, to have a career.  There was daycares, so women don't have to be stupid. This is what he wanted.  Have you ever tried daycares?  They suck.  They are expensive, hard to get into, and will call you if your child gets a snotty nose.  This is progress apparently. goes.......I wanted a real husband.  I wanted all he could give me.  I wanted all of his financial resources, all of his emotional resources, all of his love, energy, time, babies, his soul, body,everything, his mind, attention, everything, work his butt off for me, everything.  I didn't want to spend my life in some career, and wipe my husband's shitty butt.  I wanted to spend time with other women, raising our babies together, dancing and singing and eating chocolate and berries together.  I did not want to spend my time in corporate and man competition with other women. They are my sisters.  I want us to blab on about whatever came to our minds and souls.

Does that seem incredibly selfish of me?  Well, lol, I'm practically doing that right now with my life.
The man I have now is so directed, and quiet for hours at a time.  He seems a little grouchy, zoned out.  I am the exact contrast of that lately.  I'm bubbly, noisy, incredibly all over the place.  I scream, I cry, I get irrational, I get happy, I get sad.  I'll be talking about one thing then I switch and say, "The trees look so beautiful outside with all the snow on them."  I do this right in front of him, I can't help it, even when it seems like I'm supposed to be grouchy too.  Isn't that absolutely crazy? I am myself and no one is telling me to be more composed.  I'm hardly ever composed.  Well, I am sometimes. But more serene, not directed.  If I am not like this I feel like I'm rejecting myself, as I have been all my life.  So this new way feels weird.  I'm not used to it.  I have to dig to the authentic part of me every day.

And when my husband and I are apart, he calls me.  He wants to see me, to hear me, that is what he says.  I have to pull myself out of seething emotions and be real and be me.  He's not calling because he is looking for my advice or needs me to tell him what to do.  He calls me for that crazy energy.  I hate it, it feels so weird.  But its me, and I have to be ok with it.  But I have to tell you it feels so stupid.  I feel like someone is going to judge me at any moment.  I could be doing 20 different things in the kitchen at the same time, with the music playing and I'm singing.

I'm getting comfy with that, just the world tells me not to be comfy with that, it seems.  I'm supposed to be like him.  I'm not respectful, blah, blah, blah.

My sewing projects are on the go.  I'm making a macaroni salad for the church potluck.  He comes in the kitchen to help me.  This part annoys me, he takes over making the salad, because it looks to him I'm in over my head. I'm really ok, its fine, no problem.  He's starting to adjust to it.  To him this looks like chaos, and it is not chaos I swear.  One more tweaking of a relationship issue.

So father wasn't perfect.  After I turned thirteen, he was at the stripbar and seemed to stay there. He drank booze till he would be falling down drunk.  But I saw the side of him too was was so sweet and real to me back then.

Could mother have driven father crazy?  I know a lot of relationship stuff.  I blab on about it here ad nausem.  But I don't really care anymore about my parents.  No relationship advice will work with a psychopath.  Ever. It's like it is designed that way.  Father could have stood up to her and made sure he was not going to fall apart.  But I don't know.  If he was able to do that, I think mother would have won anyway, you can't win with a psychopath.  It is better to walk away.

So yeah, father might have been an ACON himself, I don't know. But he possessed the social skills of a superstar.  Just being around him was intoxicating and I rejected him.  But I had no other choice at the time.

Monday, January 12, 2015

My Screwed Up Sense of Boundaries

"Comfort and real relationships only go hand in hand once in a while. I believe real relationships require at least one person in them to LEAD the other in to a world of acceptance, connection, fun and depth."

I took this from a relationship site I have been attending for over a year.  And I'm sitting here this morning feeling rather pukey.  I was typing a response to this.  After reading it over I realized I can't send this.  The owner of this site can't possibly comprehend the reality of this situation in regards to an ACON.  So I cut and pasted my response in my blog instead.  Here is what I what I wrote:

I found my way back over to here.  It's strange how I never really can capture the true meaning of this article.  My formative years have actually screwed me over regarding this, this is not the way I grew up.  I want to add value here so here I go.

This COMFORT thing has me so caught up in how it relates to boundaries.  When you get close to your man, the key issue is that we get back.  I personally felt so scared because he invaded my boundaries.  I had boundaries regarding to feeling my own space and mind.  It was beyond my comfort level.  I realized I had all these boundaries that would never allow me to have a real relationship.  I got stuck on how he is creeping me out.  I grew up emotionally molested, and this came to light for me after growing up on the Renee site.

Yes folks here it is.  This thing we are so worried about will come to light for us as a key issue in life.  I am so scared.  Can he hurt me?  What should I let go?  When I let it go it will invade my space.

I believe I have been set up to have abusive relationships by my mother and the possibly of an abusive man to kill me.  Someone who doesn't care about me will do that.  It's horrible how well I have been taught to "non protect" myself.  That disgusting pig.

Superficial relationships were my thing.  No one ever got close to me and I've been hurt by it.  An abusive man doesn't care how I am.  A narcissistic man invades the boundaries I am used to having invaded by N mother.  I'm used to having those boundaries invaded.  But as far as the deeply caring part, which is what I'm not used to having invaded, is a new realm for me.  My relationship is evolving and we are getting closer each and every day and I'm feeling creeped out.  Yuck.

That's all I want to write today.  This is so hard and so powerful to me.  I need to keep it simple.  I can't think of anything more specific to type.  This is feelings.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Lost Opportunity - A Chance to Grow

courage photo: courage courage.jpg
My Christmas present from my husband was a necklace and earrings.  I took them out of the cardboard box, told him thank you, then put them on the table.  He sat there looking at me.  I didn't know what to say.  I felt I was choking and needed out of this.

We went out to get a pizza, came back, and the presents still sat on the table.  He gestured that maybe I could try them on.  I asked him where did they come from as I didn't recognize the brand.

"Oh, I ordered them online, and I bought one for mom too.  It was so easy that way, and saved myself a lot of time."   I could tell he was still excited and I didn't want to break that.  I looked at the care instructions it came with.

          "Don't let jewelry come near water as it will tarnish."  I put the card down.

"Oh," I said.   And I could tell that he was wondering why I wasn't trying them on.  I was stuck.

The very next day, I was wondering what to do.  Truth was, I hated his presents.  He does not ever buy me anything nice.  Never.  He could find a pretty rock on the side of the road and give me that for a present, that is how he is.  The necklace was a giant glass see-through locket. The earrings were boring as heck.  And they were junk.  Ok, I get it if he doesn't have financial resources, but he does. And this whole set cost a whole $20 bucks I bet.  And, that is all he gave me for Christmas. I was so focused on the cost.  Truth was that, I really was hurt and I wanted at that moment to burst out crying. I mean really big sobbing tears and breaking down and curling up into a ball.  I really did. Right at the moment he gave me the presents, I just wanted to turn into a big pile of tears.  But I didn't.

I take part in a very powerful relationship online community. I can never get confused in relationships again.  I am proud to say I have completely stabilized that part of my life forever.  I knew exactly what to do.    I knew exactly what was going on.  This is the hard part.  Some of the teachings require bravery I had not acquired in life. I knew exactly what to do and I didn't do it, because I was so scared.  He bought me presents I didn't like and that were cheap, and my first response was to feel scared and hurt.  Why not just hurt? Now isn't that strange?  He bought me presents and I felt this whole fight or flight.  But he pays more for shoe laces.

In relationships, some of the things we have to do will be the hardest.  It will take blood and guts. The answer is always, always be authentic.  It was what caused my awakening to narcissistic mother.  It will be my answer for life, I'm committed to it.  But being authentic is not as easy as it sounds.  There are masks we wear and masks on top of masks that are on top of masks, etc. we are not always aware of it.  This is work.  I'm not sure if this is the same kind of masks that the narcissist wears, maybe quite similar.  We wear them to cover pain too, I suppose.

Now how do I do it when a whole day has past without me even saying anything?  I made a mistake waiting.  "Mistakes are never a problem, mistakes are learning."  But this mistake cost me the ability of having the authentic emotion in that moment.  I lost that moment, I can never get it back.  To try a redo will just be bullshit.  As a result I may have created some confusion for him.  I bartered with myself.  This whole thing seems so narcissistic.  Shouldn't I appreciate the gifts anyway?  Isn't it the thought that counts? Am I being selfish?  Omg, I have heard that one before, over and over again while I was growing up.  And I really did feel selfish.  This was at the core of myself.

 As I really knew that what I wanted to do was cry my head off, a memory played in my head:

Mother would buy the most expensive clothes for me and wore rags herself.  She told everyone she had to because I was selfish and spoiled.  If you read some of my earlier posts I had talked about it. The truth was, that I never wanted the expensive stuff, I didn't care.  I couldn't ever get dirty in them anyway.  I wanted to have fun which I was unable to do.  I was to serve as a captive source of narcissistic supply.  A doll child for all the world to see and wear expensive clothes that my family could barely afford because I was such a selfish child.  I would take the food out of everyone's mouth because I was so selfish. Everyone had told her that she was a good mother with a spoiled selfish child.

I've made many mistakes in this particular relationship.  That was before I got on to that community. I'm just ironing out the kinks now.  I know I have to tell him the truth whether he likes it or not.  Stay in the moment, don't try to think ahead and just do it.  Express myself.  This really is the hardest part for me.  After all my work with the program some things just aren't easy.

I thank God everyday for that relationship community.  Because of it I am able to see what my real intentions are, that I don't want to be only out for my own significance and looking for approval again. As in, "Please, don't see me as selfish, just buy me cheap crap, I'll be happy with it, please don't hurt me,"  So yeah, he wasn't being cheap, what I actually have is a husband who reads my cues so well and perfectly.  I have never told him about that part of my upbringing.  It was too painful. But he knows somehow.  And he will never cross boundaries.  We are now emotionally connected. That cheap jewelry and the fact that he told me he didn't make much effort to get it for me says a lot. It is actually the most wonderful gift I could get from him.  He went out of his way to tell me that he didn't go out of his way to buy it.

I still remember when people would look at me with a $300 coat on at 10 years old.  That I was spoiled. But I wasn't spoiled, I was abused.  Tossed under the bus each and every time to be destroyed.  I didn't matter.  All that mattered was that mother looked like a kind mother and whether that would destroy me was irrelevant. As a result my formative mind formed a belief that I deserved the abuse when I was spoiled, so I couldn't win.  I was so brainwashed I actually still feel this way and I didn't even realize it.  That is, until I received my husband's present.

All I wanted to do was cry when I opened the presents.  Now I had to backtrack, which is never easy. Can I tap back into that initial emotion I was trying to hide from him in order that I wouldn't be selfish.  It is not a good thing to do.  It would look like bullshit in his eyes, he is very aware of me too much.  How do I take care of that need not to feel selfish?  That emotion is there and as real as the other one of hurt.  It was because I was believing a lie.  I was not selfish.  This is what I was trained and programmed to believe by a parasitical beastly non-mother.  Feel that down to my emotions, that I was not spoiled, I was abused.

As of now I couldn't do anything.  The moment of me wanting to cry has past.  The next day he came and put the necklace around my neck, it was a huge thing he could just put over my head.

Using my fullest authentic emotions, I said "I hate them,"  this wasn't that initial reaction that I could have had after just opening the presents, but oh well.  This might be ok, just not as powerful.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

I said, "Yes, they are horrible."  In my most full emotion.

He answered back, "Well, what you could do is get my picture taken then put my picture inside, it it big enough and because its glass everyone can see it."  lol, Now let's all take a big collective sigh over that one.  Yes, he was serious and this was his attempt to make me feel better.

So I said, "I would feel awful wearing that around my neck."

Now with the necklace still on me he went and sat on the couch and fell asleep.  I knew I would have to wait this out.  I was fully vulnerable with my feelings and that is all I got to do.

He had these wonderful good intentions.  He went online, ordered them.  He got me the same as he got his mother.  He thought I would love to walk around with a big picture of him around my neck. You see, in the beginning he didn't buy presents.  He had a attitude that if we want something, we could just buy it, presents are a hassle.  Let's not get all weird.  We had what you could call a marriage of convenience.  There was no passion, only stipulations that we are not to expect too much.  
He spent my first birthday with him helping his ex's relatives.  Every New Year's Eve was to be spent with the narcissistic society out here in the bush.  I didn't do that after the first year and spent every New Year's Eve away from him.  I would complain lots and this fell on deaf ears.  This New Year's Eve I spent with my children and he was to go to the party.  I found out later he didn't go to the party. He was at home thinking of what I said to him before I left, that I couldn't stand the thought of him having his New Year's Eve kisses with others.  I was hurt and I was sad and I even cried.  When I got home the next day he was worried about what I was doing.  He never cared about that before.  

Before that I lived a couple of years not expecting anything, and training myself to not want anything. But I was miserable.  He would even say cruel things to me at times.  This was actually a dead relationship with no warmth.  I was miserable.  Despite my upbringing, there was still a fire in my heart.  I wanted more.  I happened onto this relationship community by chance.  Just me reading online.  So I asked him to purchase a program for me, as he did say that if we did want something we could just buy it.  These programs are not cheap. As the owner says, "If you want cheap advice, that is all it will be worth."  So I asked him to purchase this expensive program, the first risk out of my comfort zone.

Then my whole world changed.  In the beginning we did not ever go out to get pizza, it was expected of me to always cook.  We live out in the bush here.  We run out of things, he makes sure I have what I need.  He didn't care before.  He doesn't ever say mean things to me anymore.  He does not put his narcissistic buddy ahead of me anymore.  You can read about narcissitic buddy here.  The road plowing for the buddy is no longer.  (I'll be writing more on that soon I hope)

Does buying presents mean a guy loves you?  No.  I have seen men buy for their women, gold and jewels and flowers, houses, the Eiffel Tower.  However, there was no passion driving him to buy the stuff for his wife.  Only duty.  Only, that's the type of guy he is.  Some men just love to buy stuff and that is just the way he is.  But it could be meaningless.  My man was gifting me with something much more valuable and priceless.  A trip of a lifetime, a journey into recovery.

A lot of cheap relationship advice comes down to is, "Find the type of guy who loves to spoil their woman, stay away from the guys who don't."  But this never takes into account anthropology or science.  This never will include the woman pulling her head out of her butt and actually stop being lazy and do some actual hard work. that does not only include keeping a clean house and amazing cooking. I'm behind on the laundry, does this mean he won't love me?  It's 2 pm, I haven't planned dinner yet, does this mean he won't love me?  Nooooo of course not.  Yep, head out of butt here.  lol

Was he being cheap?  He never told me he made no effort in the present in a nasty way.  When I think of it now, I can see he was excited to tell me that he put little and no thought into it.  That was the gift in itself.  But none of his behavior was logical.  Not to him, he was just taking a cue from me.
Now, just to let you know,  we mustn't ever accuse or blame,  You focus only on the problem or situation, never make him feel blamed for anything.  It is not his fault.  He is only doing what he instinctively does, with good intentions.  I appreciate that he bought me something.  I feel I hate the necklace set, that is all.  I would never call him thoughtless or horrible things, like a cheap bastard. Never ever do that.  If he was a cheap bastard he would have taken great offense to me hating the present.  He wouldn't care about my feelings.  He was trying to please me.  If he was abusive, he would not have fallen asleep, there would have been war.  There was no mind games from him either.  Just "Oh," and now nap time.

So now I just let it go. It is up to him to take care of this or not.  I didn't do the right thing right at the beginning.  Right now I'm thinking that he will not take care of the situation.  If I had started from the first moment I opened the gift, and burst out crying.  I wanted to.  I wanted to do that, but I suppressed it.  If I had cried I don't know what the outcome really would have been.  I will never know.  That I am sad about.  But, being told your selfish all your life, my first reaction would be what it was.  I was on hyper vigilance, trying to diffuse bombs again.  Trying to not be selfish.  So I made a mistake.  It was not my fault.  The chance to fix things will come with time.  I will have that time, and that will require growth.  There is always a cost to growth.

I don't have the guy who just buys gifts for the hell of it.  One who tells me, "Oh, your wonderful," each and every day, just for the sake of saying it.  He demands more of me.  He demands all.  He forces me to be brave and step out of my comfort zone.  I'm literally forced out of this hole I'm in.