beyond the DSM

Finally! My reader wrote to me and requested the address to my blog, so I might be certain that I am not writing only for myself! I felt depressed knowing that no one would even read at all and so I stopped writing. How long has it been? Hmm that full moon day (May 19th) started off nicely, but it ended with extreme nausea and for no apparent reason. Perhaps somebody who hates me put a curse on me? In the middle of the night, I woke up to pee and while sitting on the toilet I began to violently wretch, and I directed it into the shower. Then I felt better and then I smoked weed and had some very scary and sad thoughts but I went back to sleep. In the morning, I claimed to feel better but I vomited my coffee (into a garbage can). Then, on our commute, I passed out at Jay St./Borough Hall! Michelle had to ride the train back home with me and put me to bed. The police officer wouldn't let me ride the train alone and we couldn't get a cab. I was very sick. I slept for the next couple days and I think the whole thing made me lose a bit of weight. I look the same to myself but the scale says it is so.

The main thing I have been doing today is reading about NPD. I was already familiar enough with the diagnostic criteria to be sure that I do not fit that diagnosis. For one thing, I am extremely empathic, even to the point of empathizing in uncomfortable ways with strangers and inanimate objects. Additionally, I have a rich inner life and enjoy sharing it with others, for instance, what I dreamed or various memories as they arise.

Two nights ago I had a series of little dreams that were somewhat disturbing. I was trying to smoke crack and weed at the same time out of my one hitter while hiding it from my ex girlfriend and ex friend G. I was also taking pictures of her and the colors were pretty. There was a bluish hue but it was clearly her face. In another part of the dream I was trying to cut my hair. There were long pieces and no matter how hard I hacked at them with scissors, they would not cut.

(I think I dreamed about crack because we watched this documentary on Skid Row before falling asleep and there was a lot of crack smoking in it. There was one scene of explicitly shooting heroin so I covered my baby's eyes for that while fast forwarding it).

We have been doing much better in terms of being close and holding down a peaceful fort.

Sometimes I have this sense of not having any true self and I don't really like it. Am I simply a combination of everyone I've ever cathected? I feel like my essence is changeability. Yikes, it's scary! This is why I was reading about NPD. Maybe this feeling I have, of being insubstantial, is related to my narcissism? My therapist says that I'm not a narcissist but that I have a narcissistic injury incurred during early childhood, most likely. This is an injury that is healing. However, I resonate strongly with the following NPD characteristics: amorality/lack of conscience, authoritarian, contemptuous, critical of others, cruel, don't recognize own feelings, envious and competitive, flirtatious or seductive, grandiose, hyper-sensitive to criticism, impulsive, pessimistic, religious, self-contradictory, stingy, strange work habits, and a weird sense of time. The fact that I can recognize these characteristics demonstrates that I'm not a narcissist. And whatever characteristics I have can be improved and modified.

The scary feeling goes away the most thoroughly when I have physical closeness with Mishy- Not just cuddling, although cuddling is like water, it's a necessity. I also forget about the feeling if I have a good conversation with someone. Writing and communicating on the internet makes it worse, but there is something exciting about that too. Honestly, there is something I even like about narcissism. I guess that makes sense in a sick way - of course the narcissist likes her own narcissism. She created it. On the other hand, it's not as much fun as having a connection with someone, like a real moment of being present with them.

I would actually like to spend the weekend getting inebriated, dancing, perhaps having a little fight with someone weaker than myself, going a little crazy, and to the point where I barely remember what happened. However, I have a sense of love and responsibility for my wife, if not for myself, and we have to have a sober home.