So far in my life, this was my gig: telling you I would never do something you didn’t want me to do, and then doing it in the dark (you’d never find out), shaking my head yes, with no intention of following through on your stupid idea.
You were too volatile to explain things to; too self centered to entertain a new idea. I had tried. For years. I thought that made me better than you.
Now that I’m the target of passive-aggressiveness, I f*ing hate it.
It’s so oppressive. Like humidity. I just want some AIR, but knowing the passive-aggressive game, I know she’s just gearing up. She has months left until she’s tired of smothering me with it, if not years.
When you go on the interweb to find helpful ways to deal with this treatment, you also get a big side dose of how awful passive-aggressives are. Just like you do when reading up on tips to handle narcissists. Yeah, they suck!
Now, wait a minute…
Yes, she is acting awful. I don’t deserve her treatment of me. But I’m not awful. Yet, being passive-aggressive has been pretty much a mainstay for me.
Does that make me…
Does that make the narcissist in my life…
Just misguided sometimes, as I like to think of myself?
No, I can’t extend this kindness to the narcissist yet, but being the kindred spirit to the woman who is mentally torturing me is…
Weird. Mind blowing. All consuming. Earth upending. And, softening.
Can I extend her some kindness?
It’s exhausting to be forced to learn all life’s lessons in the span of two years: death of a parent; mental illness diagnosis of a child; divorce; moving; trying not to toy with the next significant other’s heart; wondering if you really are the “good” person you always told yourself you were.