I missed Wordless Wednesday but here’s a picture for Thursday …
of a sunny Okanagan day in July.
And another …
of the snowboarding venue for the Arctic Winter Games for 2018. We are starting to collect a lot of snow.
Greetings and happy November from the Northwest Territories. 🙂
I have been nominated for a blogging award. 🙂
I’m not going to do the award requirements but I do want to pass on the names of the nominator and the other nominees.
In particular, please take a look around Cecilia Kennedy’s Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks blog. Lots of good recipes and tips. Many thanks for the nomination, Cecilia. Much appreciated.
And, enjoy a photo of Yellowknife’s Back Bay on Great Slave Lake.
Happy Monday after the clocks have fallen back.
The Mackenzie River is the largest river system in Canada and the second largest in North America.
It is so big that in places it looks like an ocean or huge lake. It even has a vanishing point.
Driving across the bridge that spans the Mackenzie going south from Yellowknife doesn’t capture that effect. However, this photo from July almost does. Not quite.
Aren’t these blues amazing?
Greetings from the fabulous lakes and waterways of the Northwest Territories.
There are many types of losses, most of which are natural and normal, even if they hurt like hell. Most of us will experience the loss of parents and grandparents, the loss of a relationship or two, the loss of a friendship. Some losses are much worse than others; the loss of a child, for instance.
Even under the best of circumstances, loss carries a huge emotional load, but when you’re dealing with the loss of a narcissist, there are whole other dimensions to consider.
It’s not just the actual physical loss: the loss of the person, the loss of that relationship, the loss of that duo-dom.
It’s the loss of much of yourself.
You’re stuck in mud, your feet becoming larger and larger as the mud adheres to your shoes and tries to hold you tightly.
You’re not just hurting from the loss of the relationship, you’re hurting from the loss of yourself: your self-confidence, your judgement, your logic.
Breakups are painful, but when the breakup involves a narcissist, there is so much more to navigate. Narcissists are litigious and aggressive, so a good lawyer (read expensive) might be required. In my case, the ex-N became threatening and I had to go to the police. I had to change my door locks, install an alarm system and hire a security company.
In the meantime, he was hammering away with every type of hoover he could think of.
At the time I didn’t know that that behaviour had a name and I didn’t know about no contact. I just wanted to get his stuff out of my house.
The simple fact is that you might not even realise until much later what you have been involved with, and until that becomes clear, the mud will stick to your shoes in a big way.
When I got my ex-N out of my life, I wasn’t very knowledgeable about narcissism, but I knew that he had to go and I had to get help.
I was fortunate on several levels: there were no children, I had financial stability (my ex-N put a huge dent in that but I was essentially okay), and I had a good supplementary heath plan and could afford counselling.
The counselling portion of my quest to reclaim my life was very important because I wasn’t just mourning the loss of a relationship; I had to come to terms with the underlying reasons for my involvement with the narcissist.
That was hard – very hard. It required me to look at myself in ways that were uncomfortable and difficult.
I had to get to know myself better. And getting to know myself was paramount because it is my best defense against further involvement with another N.
In the meantime, my sense of self, my judgement and confidence were all on life support and I had no trust in them at all.
I had to rebuild, and the structure that came out is nothing that I expected. I like it though. It’s a good structure, even if it’s not pretty.
Most of all, I had to let myself grieve: I had to recognise the guilt and stupidity I felt about myself, forgive myself for that part of my humanity, and allow myself some relief from the self-criticism.
With help, I let myself off the hook and began to learn what I need to learn from this experience.
What are your thoughts about mourning?
This photo shows a recent overcast day at a small lake just outside of Yellowknife. To me, the landscape is iconically northern-looking with much evidence of the Canadian Shield covered by short trees. Clear ice is also forming on this pond. Probably enough to walk on, but I wouldn’t take the chance yet.
And, one more shot of Yellowknife at night. I love the rising crescent moon and the distant clouds.
I felt very contemplative while watching this changing view.
Yellowknife is pretty famous among tourists as a great place from which to see the Aurora Borealis.
But a sunset is also quite wonderful.
Yellowknife at night. A land of light within the dark.
Summer reflected in the bounty of fall.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Are there “pet” names in your life? Names that are perhaps more sour than sweet? Names that make you roll your eyes? Or worse, make you want to hurl?
I mean, I’ve been called names that, well, I can’t repeat here. Like, you know, twitface and frackwit. I can take those.
But what I really can’t stand are a lot of those so-called endearments. Or names that suggest I’m twelve. Or impart a sense of intimacy that doesn’t exist.
Dear store employees, don’t call me dear or sweetie or hon or honey. I don’t know you from a can of paint, so stop pretending I’m your granny. The one with an advanced case of dementia.
Just because I’m of a certain age doesn’t mean you can take liberties.
Likewise, don’t call me petal. I hate that. Or other assorted plant parts. Like flower, blossom or daisy. It’s interesting how no one gets called stamen or pistil. Who in the world wants to be called by the names of plant reproductive organs anyway??
Then there’s animal names. Kitty, kittykins, bunny, fluffy and poodle leap to mind.
I wouldn’t want to be called a tart, either. But I almost choked when standing in line behind a man who, while talking loudly on his phone, kept calling his significant other tart and tarty.
Hummm. I’m feeling tarty today. I think I’ll visit Victoria’s Secret and stand on a corner.
Yikes.
There are lots of other food names. Muffin, cupcake, cookie, pudding, sugar and tootsie. And what about shrimp roll or pumpkin? If you call me one of those, I might get out my extra large roll of duct tape and find a place to stick it.
I guess my point (other than the one at the top of my head) is that most of the time, these “pet” names are unsolicited. They get hung on you whether you want them or not. And oftentimes by people who don’t know you very well, or perhaps not at all. A store clerk once called a friend of mine “cuddles.” They did not know each other and yes, she’s a bit overweight. She left the store and never went back. What was that clerk thinking? Clearly, not much.
A few other choice monikers are sweet cheeks, baby doll, snookums, pookie and peach. Aren’t those lovely?
Eureka! The next time someone I don’t know (or barely know) attempts to reduce me to a single ridiculous word, I’ll fight fire with fire.
Waiter/ess: And what would you like today dear?
Me: Awww. Look at you, you snookums muffin. Now be a baby doll and get me a steak and salad. And petal sweetie, don’t forget to fetch me some extra napkins and some ketchup. Run along now. There’s a good little poodle.
Would that work? I mean, you have to start somewhere. What do you think?
I found these beautiful red bushes glowing in their fall mantle.
I don’t know what kind of bushes they are, but like most things in life, they’re just passing through, gifting us with their colour before they’re gone.
Happy Fall.
Caitlyn Kelly has shared with her readers some of what she has learned about living with and recovering from cancer.
Thank you for sharing, Caitlyn. ❤
In the Net! - Pictures and Stories of Life 