It's Hard Being a Human

Long story short, a couple years ago, (wow, I can’t believe it’s been that long since my grandmother passed,) a very close friend of mine suggested that I go see someone because of the mental roller coaster I was having. Boyyyy… did that start a chain of events. Some of them I’ll spare you on, some I will get to down the road if you choose to hang with me.

For so long, I’ve been told that I was a narcissist. Do you have any idea how that bother me over the years? I have always associated narcissism with my father. (If you would like HIS blog, leave a comment below, and you’ll see why.)

Today, I was told that I am not. Ha! Win! Kinda… She did say I had narcissistic traits. But if I were a true narcissist, I wouldn’t be sitting in that chair across from of her of my own free will. That little voice inside my head, in the midst of me shredding someone to pieces, or taking it one step further than I should, that says, “shut up, shut up, shut up,” And then I cant… that voice wouldn’t be telling me to shut up. The fact that I can’t put myself in the other persons shoes and recognize how they feel, or how I’m making them feel, is a narcissistic trait. The fact that I do recognize it later, is because I’m not narcissistic.

The fact is, we as a society throw that word around when we really and truly don’t know what it means. Is it good that I have to traits? Absolutely not! Is it good that they’re just traits? Yes. To me, it is. That means I can fix it. That means I’m aware. That means my willingness to seek help, will eventually get me where I want to be. Where I need to be.

Okay… just had to get that out, so I could focus on some other stuff. I’ll definitely check in more tonight