Narcissist.

Narcissist.

I am comforted by the sound of my own voice.
By the words written in my familiar hand.
By pictures of former joy and success and happiness.
Evidence that I’ve done something good.
Hope that I will do something good in the future.
I look at the past and hope it’s good enough.
Looking at the present I quickly forget.
Comparisons. So many comparisons.

Pride.

Is it pride? Being unable to let go, hoping that I’m better. Not even wanting to be better, just not wanting to be lost.

Youngest child syndrome.
Being forgotten at the library once when I was five.
Mental scars?

Not wanting to be noticed, but wanting so much to be seen…to be loved.

Eight children. Two parents. One me.

Loved. Very much loved.

Broken bones, bone disease, muscle spasms, brain surgery, broken neck.
Impossible not to notice, impossible not to love.

Do you see me behind the pain?
Do you see me behind the bone disease?
Because sometimes I don’t know who you are other than worried about me and my problems.
Can’t you see my strengths and love those, and not love them as only illuminated by what I’ve gone through?
Can’t you love the girl who sings and writes and reads and laughs, and not the girl who sings and writes and reads and laughs, despite it all.

It’s a slippery slope. You try so hard to show the one, then in a burst of pain you must despite it all again.

I miss…not having to try so hard to not be the sick one.
I miss…having more to do than think about pain.

I’m comforted by the sound of my own voice.
By poems and journal entries and evidence that there is something good there.
By the hope that there is something other than the pain to notice about me, that there is more.

Because sometimes I can’t see me past the pain.

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6 Comments

Filed under All Poetry, Cdukulele's life.

6 responses to “Narcissist.

  1. i kind of go through the opposite thing. my parents are awesome, but they forget that sometimes i have bad days because of my depression, and those are the times it would be great if they’d treat me like “the girl with depression” instead of the unruly daughter. but i get what you’re saying, and i’m sorry you had to say it.

    • It’s both. You want the compassion and the understanding, but sometimes you just want them to ignore your weakness entirely, because you want to ignore it yourself, also, it’s hard to deal with your issues when you have to help everyone else deal with them. I’ve been pretty much ignoring my issues lately…then my sister brought them up and I started crying. But I understand the desire to just get a break. :/ Oh, pain. Thanks forgodseyesonly, 🙂

      • what’s so admirable about you is that you don’t want people to think of your pain first, which I find really brave, and I wish I could be more like that. you are 100% not a narcissist! Yeah I think it’s really hard for family and friends to find a balance with stuff like this. Most people I know that I’ve told them about this just ignore it, but I have a few close friends that will every once in a while ask me how I’m doing, which is really nice. But my ex-roommates just completely ignored that aspect of me. It’s just really hard for people around us, so I think we just have to be really solid in who we are so that we can look at it from their perspective. which is way easier said than done. but we can pray about it. I’ll be praying for you!

  2. You talk about your pain so rarely,and your disease so,so rarely.
    It’s kind of amazing that you have the guts to go through so much and not complain about it.At all.

    • I’ll just say thank you. Because I don’t know if I agree with you, but the several posts I’ve tried to compose in the last several months to respond to this have all been insufficient. Not that it wouldn’t be amazing if I didn’t complain, at all, about the suffering, but whether I don’t complain, or just don’t complain on the blog, and why I don’t complain, and really, just a lot of things and it got so wordy and I didn’t know what to express and yeah. Thank you.

      • Hey,wordy is good.Wordy is always good.You’re like me with the whole “I have no clue what to say” so I’ll tell you that I have no clue what to say, because there’s nothing else I can say thing. Aaaannnnnnd….ignore that. We all get like that,I guess.Not knowing whether we’re saying enough or too much….but sure.Just……sure.

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