They say that empaths and narcissists make some of the most toxic relationships. An empath is someone who feels the emotions and sometimes thoughts of others. A narcissist is someone who is incapable of seeing things from other’s point of view. The relationship becomes very one sided.
One could argue that it is easy for the empath to be full of one sided relationships; I know this first hand. I’m a very independent person. I ask very little of others. Sometimes I find myself in situations where the first time I need someone to go out on a limb for me, well, it is years into knowing them. I find it hard to know who is who. Who is a narcissist, who is kind of self centred, or who is just not used to helping me back?
This fall has been kind of a disaster. Let’s just say, relationships have been tested. I deleted my Facebook, or someone did, I don’t remember deleting it. My Facebook friends freaked out and got super worried about me. The drama of my disappearing act made me lose my gig at the Baby Show. It has been nice getting random messages from strangers making sure I was okay. I love my online ladies!
Maybe no one is a full narcissist, but I know a few. A few unnamed humans who have a terrible time thinking of anyone but themselves. Every conversation seems frustrating. They are shifty, they might change with the wind. I think it is self protection. They are insecure, possibly lack morals or common sense.
The empath can be very defensive, especially one not in their power. They can be completely submissive, uncomfortable with the barrage of emotions coming at them. Empaths are often sensitive, caring people. No matter what you are, empath or narcissist, you have to decide who you are and what you want. What will you stand for? What I want is to embrace my empath abilities. I want to be a good humanitarian. I want to create a joyful, peaceful, narcissist free life.
Come back twin flame, I want to do it with you.
My twin flame introduced me to this slutty dating/community website. I’m not really sure what to call it. It’s like pervert Facebook. I like it. Everyone has been really nice since I signed up. There is definitely more talking to strangers than Facebook. There are a few people on their who take their sexual escapades to a professional level. They make their profile all nice like Instagram, they get fans. I kind of love it. I kind of want to do it without being naked. I’m not into being naked on the internet, especially being a mother.
One thing that my twin flame and I are amazing at is sexting. It is so hot. Sexting him is like making music. I have a good imagination, and he has a lot of good sex stories, I’m sure. I think we could write a great book of short sexy stories. I have considered writing something like it for his birthday, but I doubt his girlfriend would want him to keep it. So if he does end up reading this, what do you think? One day, do you want to write an ebook of short sex stories with me?
July was a strange, exciting month. I had worried it would be awful since it was my birthday and I was very single. The one other time I was single on my birthday a female friend offered me her lover to play with. We ended up dating for a while. This year all I wanted was to get my twin flame back, we disconnected in June. I missed having him in my life. He needed to focus on the relationship he is already in.
I would have maybe given up on him completely if it wasn’t such a strange month. I was seeing 1111 almost everyday. I was being stalked by birds it seemed. Then there were the three strange things. The first was I had a thought that I would be ok if he was with someone else. Not strange of course, however, I was standing boiling an egg and water jumped out. I got burned by the water literally a second after thinking that. Some similar thought came by as I went to go change over the laundry a few days later. I opened the door to the washer and Gavins sock fell out, stained in the shape of a rocker hand. It’s on my Instagram. Totally looks faked but I have no idea how that happened.
The other somewhat weird thing that happened was with my friend. We took our babies for a walk and I was telling her about this dream I had of my twin and suddenly, as we walked under this blossoming tree, it began to rain. It only rained for two minutes but it was enough for tons of flowers to fall on us and the babes.
Maybe it was magic, maybe it was the universe giving me a good month, maybe it was nothing and I read too much into things. I like to believe it was something special. I like to believe I was semi stocked by coyotes for a reason. July just felt like the spiritual realm was giving me a big hug, helping me get through. I’m okay having that prospective even if it sounds nuts. This year has been very hard and I will take all the help I can get.
“If you do this to me, I’ll be the poster child for a bipolar mother and burn your family to the ground” A threat made by me to my ex when I was first getting diagnosed in September and he was supporting it.
In hindsight, I don’t blame him. He stupidly had said “Well, I googled bipolar and maybe the divorce was a manic episode.” Maybe it made him feel better to think I was out of my mind than things fell apart past repair and I hit the end of my rope. I don’t even know if he googled FPIES, the disease my kids and I have.
I was already considering two books. The first would be about hope and parenting, focusing on Gavin’s first year. I had wanted to include all the dumbass comments from family, but I had felt bad exposing them like that. I could still do it and be understanding within my writing. I’m sure my mother in law would hate the book no matter what, since it came from me. My one sister in law may actually enjoy it. I know how to self publish and I know how to get it in the local Indigo, so that’s not an issue. I really could say anything I want. The truth is honestly more dramatic than anything I could make up.
The second book is a fiction about Adam and Eve, inspired by my twin flame journey. I have a lot of notes for it. I have started this one about five times and deleted it. I was getting a little lost between my blog and all the drafts. I think I need to just block out three months to focus on it. Right now I am distracted by my apartment renos and organization. I’ll finish my apartment by the end of the year though. I once met a girl in the Navy who does all her endeavours in 3 month stints since she wants to do so much. I am considering doing that. I’ll have fun time blocking in my Erin Condren.
I found a book I bought in 2012 right between losing my job and meeting my husband, 642 Things To Write About. I only filled in about 11 of the things and I was in a terrible place. It was the epitome of my teenage emo years. Describe the first and last death you remember. I wrote “First) 2000 my uncle killed himself when his girlfriend went to the store. Last) 2012 my neighbour died in a motorcycle accident. Next) mine, undecided date.”
I used to be very depressed, very suicidal. I used to plan and plan. I was always trying to push through, find the perfect time. Maybe in three months if I’m not happier. Two weeks after Christmas maybe, I don’t want to ruin Christmas for the family. Every year I get more put together. Every year my will to live gets stronger. It is still hard some days. I know I won’t do anything. I have children and I’m not impulsive about it. I know that I am a grown up with the power to mostly control my life. I sometimes wonder if the thoughts will ever be completely gone.
In May I told two people I was having the thoughts. The feelings that I did not want to go on. I felt as though I was living for my children. When was my contract over? When will I be allowed to be done? When they are 18? When they are 21? When they are done college? I told a friend I’m going to die in 21 years, apparently that was the answer I came up with. The thing was, when I felt like it was official, I cried a lot. It felt dramatic. It felt wrong. I wondered if my kids would think I stayed alive miserable for them this whole time.
I think I had to face my death one last time to really purge suicidal thoughts out of my system. The first time I tried to kill myself I was ten years old. It was a few months before my uncle died. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. It was impulsive. There was a peacefulness to it. A psychotic way about it. I just decided. It just felt right. I felt like it needed to happen. In honestly, the pills I took did nothing but made me high. I wasn’t close to death at all. I was ten, I didn’t even really know what I was taking. I wonder if I’m just broken that way. Too sensitive to the world. At points it felt as if that was true. I definitely need extra hermit time. I’m definitely sensitive to everyone’s wants and feelings. Being alone at times is necessary.
I have hope that I have gotten over the idea. It took me 18 long years to cure myself of that idea that came over me like an infection so long ago. I don’t just want to live for my kids anymore. I want to live for me. Maybe that is why I’m so gung hoe about this bucket list and twin flame thing. I’m done settling. I’m done dealing with the same toxic family members. I need my life to be mine. I need space from judgement. I’m done living for everyone else, but I’m definitely not done living. I’m living for me and my kids now, not just them.
If my life was a book, Tia would be foreshadowing for my life ahead. She was one of my favourite horses to ride when I was into it. I did horseback riding when I was 11-13. When I got in trouble at school, my lessons were cancelled as punishment. There were a few horses I rode and got to know. Duke, Monte, Sam & Tia. Duke was a giant golden blonde baby who I helped train. Monte was chestnut. He was the first horse I rode. An older guy, great with beginners. He was so easy to ride and sweet. Sam literally had the print of a cow, was short, and had the biggest ass. He had the gentlest ride but he was pretty lazy. The instructor usually had to physically push him to the track.
Tia was my girl. She was all black with sensitive skin. She would kick the wall and bite at you. Not as many people rode her because she was so angry. I’m so angry. She didn’t like people because it hurt her skin to be brushed. You had to be extremely gentle but firm with her. I totally get the hurts to be touched thing. Riding her was fun. She ran so fast. I miss my girl.
I feel like my life is like my Tia. My bones hurt, my skin hurts, I’ve been having chest pains again. I’m just tired from life. I want the snuggles but I’m scared to be touched. One day I hope to get back into horseback riding. I really did love it.
My autoimmune disease causes vomiting/diarrhea when I eat food or take medicine I’m allergic to. It can also cause lethargy, dehydration and shock. 25% of FPIES patients also have regular allergies. FPIES is considered rare in babies, although some babies are misdiagnosed with reflux or milk allergy. It is really rare for an adult to not have outgrown the disease, like myself. The hospital treatment for a FPIES reaction is IV fluids and Zofran (an anti-nausea medication).
Mother’s day weekend of 2017 I was hospitalized for FPIES and ended up in the ICU. At the time only my son had been diagnosed and I wasn’t sure why I was so sick. I suspect I also have MCAS, another autoimmune disease as well. My body was so reactive at the time it felt like my throat was swelling shut for up to an hour after even a sip of water. It scared me a lot. I tried to find purified bottled water and getting a high tech water filter did help some. I was on a very restricted diet to breastfeed my son who very reactive at the time. I think I may have overdone eating peanuts, which caused the whole mess. I had recently lost 15 lbs in 2 weeks even though I was eating 3500 calories a day.
While in the hospital, on Mother’s day, alone, the doctors did not understand how I got so sick so quickly. The ICU doctor straight up did not believe that it was quick. My potassium was lower than some nurses had ever seen and yet I was still conscious. They told me I was dying and my breastmilk was toxic. I was in keto acidosis. The doctor insisted I had been sick for months and that sick babies need to be on formula. She called CAS on me and reported me for breastfeeding. She claimed I ruined my health to breastfeed. Maybe that is true, in a sense. Before going on a diet for Gavin though, I was sick a lot. I had no idea why. I took way too many pregnancy tests because of my random weeks of vomiting. Even birth control pills made me nauseous.
I ended up being released from the hospital on the Monday with better potassium levels. A week later I was breastfeeding again and Gavin was deemed failure to thrive, too allergic to have any of the formulas in Canada. Coconut water and eventually potatoes became staples. Now, I’m not breastfeeding anymore but I do have low B12. Burgers and B12 needles are on the regular menu these days. I know how to rehydrate myself and as long as I am careful to not ignore symptoms, things should be good. FPIES is usually straightforward but you can be more reactive when your immune system is down, think post flu or post antibiotics. It is really about management. Gut bacteria plays a huge role. Breastfeeding, playing in grass/dirt, petting animals are all helpful. Probiotics weren’t an option for Gavin because he was too allergic to the barley they were grown on, but even that, the evidence is debatable for their use long term.
My advice? When you have a sick baby, or a rare disease, it is really helpful to do your own research. We work really closely with allergists and at one point had a nutritionist for Gavin. I have the most faith in specialists.