Because It’s Just Not Christmas Without…

Not white hot rage. Not this year.

Tonight was my family’s Christmas party. There were a few people missing this year, my baby boy for one. He had to work. Zach and his girlfriend of two years split a few months ago, so he was solo. One of my cousins had a baby since last Christmas and it was nice to get my baby fix. I passed the baby off to Middle Sister when she got fussy. The baby, not Middle Sister.

Last year, after my family Christmas party, I wrote about an incident with my narcissistic father. I behaved badly in a reaction to him behaving badly.

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I Love You, Man

No. I mean it. I love you.

I LOVE YOU!

See? I can type it. Kind of. I still might not ever post this because it’s difficult. I don’t say ‘I love you’ easily. I don’t love easily. Even when I tell people I love that I love them, it’s rarely an ‘I love you’, it’s a ‘love ya’ or I say ‘I love you’ in a cartoony voice. And if I say it on the phone, then I hang up immediately.

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Beyond Narcissism: What I’ve Learned

I’ve had a slow realization of internal changes that have been taking place for a few months now.

I’ve written about being the adult child of a narcissist and that shit wasn’t easy. I re-read every post and every single one of them was honest. But really? Still pretty motherfucking superficial. I talked about a lot of personal shit, but I still keep the core wrapped in bubble wrap with a moat of sharks with frickin laser beams protecting it.

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