Being a bitch keeps narcissists away

I keep coming back to the same question for myself. 

How is it that I have absolutely no narcs in my life these days?  How is it that I have been 'lucky' enough to remove ALL negativity from my life, when so many others are still dealing with or meeting narcs?

After all, I was trained to be PREY.  I was trained from birth to be subservient and to be prey for the predator, to let the narc hunt me and feed on my service and fear.  How is it that I have NO fear now?

I'll tell you what I have decided the answer is.  I'm a fucking bitch.

I hate people.  I have very, very few human beings that I interact with.  My amazingly wonderful husband on a daily basis.  Mike, my son, these days daily but sometimes once a week, 3-times a month.  My sisters, I mean I have 5 sisters and my mother is about to go in a nursing home - we talk a few times a month.  My niece and The Ever Patient France around once a month, via phone/text/facebook.  These people know me,  they crack me up, there is no small talk - there is real conversation, real depth, and a real connection.

Other than that, I am quiet, and solitary, and contemplative, and PEACEFUL.  There is a huge difference between solitude and loneliness.  I am NEVER lonely.  That thought actually makes me smile right now - the word 'lonely' just doesn't enter my world.  In Maryland I was decidedly BORED.  I am glad to be living in San Diego again, where there are multiple places for me to go and walk and spend my time. 

But I don't hang around PEOPLE.  I don't party.  I don't "visit".  I hate socializing with acquaintances.  I told you.  I'm a royal fucking bitch.  I don't want to talk about politics, or the weather, or who is fucking who.  I don't want their opinions on make-up or shoes or food.  I don't fucking care.

When I meet someone say, in line at the bank or whatever, I am pleasant and smiling.  But I don't want to really MEET them.  I don't want to get together with our husbands and play uh...  bunco?  cards?  nope.  Jeff would KILL me if I even suggested such a thing anyway.  We are loners who love each other's company. 

I have no high-school friends that I send xmas cards to - there are a couple of women on my FB friends list, and one in particular, who I "talk" to via that platform, and I have a great time with them.  On that platform.  The one in particular (Lisa) was my "BFF" in Jr. Hi and we find we still have MUCH in common, one thing being we are loners.  Har.

I am never caught unawares.  I am always suspicious.  Much like the Prince Humperdink in The Princess Bride, I always think everything is a trap, that is why I am still alive. 

Nobody gets in.  And my past is firmly in my past.  I guess that sounds lonesome or harsh when I write it out, that nobody gets in.  But I have learned how I relate to the world, how I enjoy my time, how much I enjoy my solitude.  I don't WANT more people, acquaintances, time fillers, clubs, luncheons, GOOD LORD I can't even imagine a worse life!  And staying in contact with my past - jeebus.  I'm 52 years old.  If I kept in contact with every old boyfriend or work chum my phone would never stop ringing.

I don't want neighbors stopping by, and in fact I am openly discouraging of the practice.  I will simply not answer the phone or the door if I don't want to, and I don't care if you know I'm home. 

And here is the kicker.  NOBODY has any power over me.  I have been completely honest, actually ridiculously honest, all of my life.  I own my mistakes, and boy have there been many.  I have been honest with Jeff about how I dated married men, about how I had an unfortunate (and thank jeebus short) addiction to meth back in my 30's - Mike is aware of all of that and has knowledge and access to this blog and my FB page.  There are no hidden ghosts in my past, so nobody (whoever that might have been) has any leverage over me.

I tolerate my mother for the sake of my relationships with my sisters.  I don't HATE my mother, and in fact will tell her I love her.  I call her once in a great while.  I am currently working on one portion of the Gordian knot that is getting her moved into an assisted living home.  But I don't do it for HER sake.  I do it for my sisters, because it is a burden to share.  I have no interest in, nor access to, her financial stuff.  I don't care.  I have told a couple of sisters that if my mother spends her last dollar, on her last day on earth, good for her.  I don't give a fuck.  I don't care what home she chooses, I don't care how much she sells her house for or if she gets ripped off, I don't care which car she sells and which one she keeps.  *shrug* I have no fucks to give.  I am now, with the help of this blog and the help of reading all of YOUR blogs, over the hump with regards to needing validation for my memories of my horrific childhood and my story.  I know it happened, that's enough.  What we sisters (most of us anyway) ARE doing is 'reply to all' on the emails, so that nobody is left out, so there is no triangulation.  Because my mother still does things like change which sister has the guardianship without telling the former sister that she changed it.  Which lets me know that my mother is still a narc, still triangulating, still a bitch, still doing what she has always done.  We don't tolerate it and so it goes.  But none of that is MY concern anyway.  I would absolutely REFUSE to be the guardian, or to have a POA, or any of that crap.  I don't care who does it, any sister but me.

Mike is grown and makes his own decisions about which relationships he will cultivate - I don't get involved except to offer my opinion - but I respect his point of view too much to push much or get involved.  I DON'T REALLY CARE.  I don't really care if he calls my mother, or any of his aunts.  It's none of my business.

See?  I'm a fucking bitch.  IT IS SO FREEING.  I have let go of so much crap.

I absolutely DARE someone from my past (like I have a past that would come looking for me.  I mean, come on.  They are all honestly probably as glad as I am that we are no longer in contact, I mean I was CrAzY with undiagnosed and untreated manic/depression.  When I was fun, it was great.  When I was depressed and self-centered?  shit, I was the worst friend ever). but srsly, I dare someone from my past to come and try to *I dunno* - blink - blackmail?  whu?  who would do that?  see?  nobody.  NOBODY.  It's the most amazing feeling.

I don't interact with Mike's other grandparents, his dad's parents, again, Mike is old enough to have or not have a relationship with them, and I don't have any reasons to ever see them.  Jeff's parents are sweet (and crazy) and his family has their problems, but it's none of MY business.  I don't get involved.  If they need a ride to a doctor or want me to research medications, I do so!  I go with Jeff once in a while and cook lunch and chat and then we leave.  I'm not involved in their finances or anything, none of MY business.

I recycle.  I'm unfailingly polite and pleasant.  I tip very well.  I turn my music down after about 4:00 PM, and don't crank it except on a Saturday afternoon.  I help people with groceries, I stop the errant toddler from running into the street.  I wait for pedestrians and I say 'excuse me'.  So I guess calling myself a fucking bitch may be a bit harsh.

I love me.  I LOVE ME.  I love myself.  I love my husband and my kid.  I love my life.  It is hard fought, hard won.  I have true regrets about some of the things I've done, and if given the chance will certainly sincerely acknowledge those things, and sincerely apologize.

Perhaps the 'never say never' thing should apply here.  Maybe once I am a very old woman, weak and bed ridden (Mike, please kill me before that, thanks, Mom) someone will narc me again.  But, nah.  Over my dead body.  I wont get fooled again.