Robin Donnelly's Blog, page 3
July 6, 2020
Looking at Old Photos: An Exercise to Help You Reconnect To Yourself When You’ve Forgotten Who You Are
I’m going through old photos while working on my second memoir and found this memory today.
This one is from a trip to Las Vegas in 2001 where I visited Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. I am a huge fan of Oprah, so when I ran into her that day, of course I let her interview me for my upcoming best-selling book. Lol! 
Looking at Old Photos: An Exercise to Help You Reconnect To Yourself When You’ve Forgotten Who That Is
I’m going through old photos while working on my second memoir and found this memory today.
This one is from a trip to Las Vegas in 2001 where I visited Madame Tussaud’s wax museum. I am a huge fan of Oprah, so when I ran into her that day, of course I let her interview me for my upcoming best-selling book. Lol!
July 5, 2020
Mask Madness: Some Perspective from the Middle
In 1995 I had just graduated nursing school and was hired at a nursing home as a charge nurse. The resident doctor who did my pre-hire physical that August warned me that although I would be protecting myself with Universal Precautions and PPE, I would probably get sick on and off for months, or get one really big flu that lingered that fall/winter. (Flu shots weren’t discussed, because they weren’t pushed yet, nor would I have taken one.)
In November that year, the nursing home was hit with the Asian flu— (that’s where it originated, so that’s what it was called) — and twelve of my elderly residents died as a result.
By December I ended up getting it, and got sicker than I’ve ever been in my life, missed two weeks of work as a single mom, and got three months behind on bills as a result. Not one person cared. No one called me a hero for doing my job. No one shut the country down. And no one helped me pay my bills.
I love that the world is trying to become more compassionate, considerate and caring, but the blame game and the extremes that go on in society in order to feel superior about absolutely everything is so old and exasperating, I can barely stand it anymore. If you view everything we’re seeing on the line that is narcissism like I do, you see just how quickly both the left and right side of that line can become toxic.
If your mask makes you feel safe, by all means wear it. I’m not going to ever try to talk someone out of their fear and I can’t know what underlying issues they may have that puts them at risk. I’m not going to demand they do anything different than what they’re already doing. And, if someone else chooses not to wear a mask, I’m doing more harm to my immune system by getting angry, irate and superior about it than if I just minded my own business and stayed away from them.
We can never, ever, ever, control what someone else does or doesn’t do. If we embrace that concept and understand that what others do or don’t do has nothing to do with us personally, our immune systems won’t be as run down, our adrenals won’t be jacked up with cortisol, and we’ll be healthier as a result.
June 27, 2020
Are You The Queen of England in Relationships?
Is this real life though? Or just another wall? Don’t we have to abandon who we think we are sometimes in order to learn something new?
Yesterday, I met with a new friend in clay class. She had my same peppy energy and seemed like a new person I could really have a good time with.
We met today outside of clay class to make glass fusion in her garage. I showed up eager and with no expectations. She taught me and I listened. She was the teacher. The expert in her field. I knew not a thing.
Turns out, she’s a conservative, I’m a liberal. She’s red, I’m blue. She’s more of a concrete black and white thinker (former teacher), and I can see more than my own perspective and see many shades of gray (nurse.)
Then, she asked who I was and I told her. She liked me enough to hear me out, stayed inquisitive, and didn’t shut me down. And then, I liked her enough to listen with an open mind to what she had to say, I stayed inquisitive and learned about who she is.
We talked about politics, global warming, healthcare, racism, our pasts, addiction, parenting, mental illness, marriage, the state of the world today, and what we would like to see happen differently. And, although we differed on many of the things we discussed today, we still enjoyed one another’s company.
We were mature enough to know that each of us bring to the table differing opinions, experiences, and beliefs, —not to mention generational differences— she is 70, I am 52. But, each of us honored our truths without belittling, negating, one-upping, or demanding the other change their reality or experiences in life to suit the other.
As a result, we laughed, listened with an open heart to each other’s stories, learned, taught, and held space for each other without walking away saying, “Not a match!”
When reading things on the internet, like the attached meme, make sure you don’t read them so literally that you are fencing yourself in, and icing out others. That person that did you wrong, is not this person.
We are not the Queen of England and no one needs to bow to, acquiesce, or work to make us comfortable. I didn’t need her to stop being who she was to interact with little ole me. And she didn’t require anything from me other than what I already brought to the table and laid in front of her.
I never once felt like I was abandoning or betraying myself while trying to get to know my new friend.
She enjoyed our conversations and company so much that I am invited back tomorrow for more of the same. And, I am more than eager to go.
As I left, she squeezed me in a hug saying I was her new BFF; me thanking her for her time and company saying she was just what I needed.
My point? — Do yourself a favor. Get off the internet and stop allowing memes like this to be your philosophy in life and be the change you want to see in the world. Get along with people. No one owes us comfort. Do yourself a favor.
Stay.
June 26, 2020
Growth from Toxic Relationships Is Not About Building Walls
We can learn everything there is about toxic people of every kind and know something about every kind of personality disorder — and still get duped.
We can prepare in every way possible to never allow ourselves to be used, abused or manipulated again, but that’s not real life. When we’re keeping our hearts open, living our lives and not isolating ourselves for protection behind impenetrable walls, those things can and will happen.
Believing that everyone who hurts us is purposefully toxic or disordered and that healing from them is a one and done, is both naive and harmful. Harmful to us to think we should never be duped again if we just learn these rules. And harmful to others for pigeonholing everyone as toxic or narcissistic who may hurt us.
The world has gone crazy with all this narcissistic 101 crap. Everything I see is about it is from one extreme to the other: all good, or all bad; with no in between. That’s called borderline personality disorder. So, whatever you do, learn to see shades of gray.
I’ve tried all my life to walk the midline of life and have still hurt others inadvertently, or been harmed by others. I’m not going to stop living my life and trying again with new people. Making everyone we meet pay for the sins of another is not growth. It’s just another form of superiority.
Yes, we need to learn our boundaries, we need to learn the signs of toxicity in others — and then we need to liberally apply some common sense to the whole thing and realize that each time we engage with others there is a possibility that we could get hurt. Anything other than staying open is not living.
June 14, 2020
Learn to Discern What You’re Listening to about Narcissistic Abuse on YouTube.
I wish videos on narcissistic abuse didn’t go straight to NPD when discussing narcissism. Because there are healthy levels of narcissism with a little “n” that we all have in order to forge ahead and make our own paths in life. Healthy narcissism is how we get our needs met. It’s how we get out of bed and try again. It’s how we rise above. It’s how we speak up and out against injustices and stand up to be counted. It’s how we are able to put ourselves in others shoes and put our own needs on hold for another.
This kind of narcissism is full of compassion for others, takes ownership of self, takes responsibility for one’s own actions, self-partners, fulfills self from within, is authentic and genuine, isn’t afraid to look imperfect, and has empathy for self and others.
As someone who has two narcissistic parents, and is married to a man with a narcissistic mother, narcissism that comes in the form of capital “N” Narcissism, as in the personality disorder NPD—we can tell you it is completely unhealthy and void of anything that resembles empathy. They present with an inability to ever be wrong about anything, can never have faults, be responsible for their actions, don’t take ownership of self, don’t even try to understand others feelings, can’t ever look imperfect, can’t show any vulnerability whatsoever, apologize, or have remorse and empathy for others.
The video I watched today went on to talk about how “sad” it is for victims. And while it is, I also wish videos that discussed NPD didn’t pigeonhole victims of it as somehow doomed to never prosper or succeed in life. Nothing could be further from the truth! I’ve been living this life, all my life — and I’ve never thought for a second I was sad or doomed.
Telling people this or even hinting to it, is just another type of conditioning and grooming going on in the narcissistic “expert” community that wants to educate people about it, yet have us heavily relying on their products, classes, books and more to heal from it.
It’s like dumbing us down while building us up to need them. It feels opportunistic and it feels wrong to me. I don’t begrudge anyone from making a living, but I do take offense to showing pity and pandering to a group of people looking for healing, while simultaneously keeping them stuck and sick and reliant upon their content to heal by using degrading words that push people back into the pigeonholes they are trying to escape.
Don’t believe anything that pushes you back in life! And don’t listen to people who use negative language to describe your life. Only grow forward and make your own path in life with your small “n” narcissism in tow.
We are not victims, nor are we sad. We are victorious and more powerful than they want us to believe.
#nowyouknow #notsad #notavictim #justsayin
[image error]
June 12, 2020
Healing: A Lifetime Ordeal
I don’t have a program to sell you. And I won’t begin to tell you that I know all the answers, because quite frankly, I’m turned off immediately by those types. We’re all different and what works for one person, may not work for another. What one has access to, another may not, and so on…
I do however have a few things I can tell you about healing trauma and it’s this:
It Takes a Lifetime to Transcend It because there will always be another layer. We may have healed our childhood wounding, but we are now on to our own lifestyle choices and ways of being in this world that need to be unlearned, forgiven and worked out of our bodies. We may feel healed for years, but then… life happens. They’re called triggers. And because our world is narcissistic in nature, there will always be those. But, we must walk our talk. I know sometimes it feels as if there are not enough hours in the day to get done all that we need to take care of, but just vow to get back to the deeper issues and do the work. I promise you, it’s worth it. You will get through it by making the next best decision you can make at the time. So take a few deep, cleansing breaths and be at peace with the fact that nothing in nature hurries and everything gets done when it’s supposed to.
— That’s it.
[image error]Meditate.
[image error]Go searching for the gold that is your life.
[image error]Walk your path with your head held up high.
[image error]Eat the rainbow.
[image error]Eat mostly at home.
[image error]Make beautiful things and give them away
[image error]Sweat out those toxins!
[image error]See beauty everywhere. These are bubbles at the car wash! Pretty!
[image error]Get your Vitamin D in it’s purest form. Sunshine!
[image error]Play!
[image error]And play some more
[image error]Chill with your best homie. P.S. -These pajama pants are 11 years old!
[image error]Buy yourself the funny socks! Yes, I bought these! POW! POW! POW!
[image error]Get massaged, frequently. Yes, I have my own table, that’s how often I require one. I taught my husband everything he knows from my time in massage school.
[image error]Buy yourself flowers.
[image error]Take pictures of the moon. Moonbathe naked. (Sorry, can’t show you that.;)
[image error]Make your own space to create. Just create: paint, sew, write, become.
[image error]Take cool photos and find balance in all things.
[image error]Remember your roots and rise above your raising.
[image error]Consult the cards, Universe and angels for guidance.
[image error]Pray. (These are my kitty’s feet. Precious!)
[image error]Make friends with dragonflies. They carry your wishes off to the angels. —He was so cooperative and remained perfectly still as I got ever so close. —Smile!
[image error]Feel the energy of healing crystals.
[image error]Light a candle, have a bit of wine and soak in Epsom salts. If you’re trying to raise your vibration after working trauma out of your body, skip the wine. Alcohol lowers our vibration.
[image error]Forgive yourself. Protect yourself from negative energies with a black tormeline ring.
[image error]Buy other artist’s work. An artist friend made this for me. It’s me reading my book with my kitty by my side! Cuuute!
[image error]Meet up with friends from the past and talk about how old you both are now. Then get busy doing what you want to with the rest of your life. Times a wastin’!
[image error]Look to the sky for answers and help. Are you there, God? It’s me, Robin?
[image error]Reflect.
[image error]Be the Light.
[image error]Seek solutions from within your own body. It’s talking to you if you take the time to listen.
[image error]Make your own super hero. (Yes, we still need them!) We may have to put down the armor, but a girl still needs a good utility belt, power bands and shit-kickin’ boots!
[image error]Don’t just walk the path, notice it.
[image error]When you can’t adult anymore. Have margarita. You deserve it! —Learn to accept love and care from others when they give it.
[image error]Trust that you will find whatever it is you need, at just the right time.
Now, repeat.
If you need me, I’ll be in my cloffice organizing, writing, processing, and praying that I get memoir number two done sometime next year. I’ll be the one with eleven year old pajama pants on that have holes in the knee. And, I’ll be wearing my mother fucking girl power socks too. They make me smile. Then giggle. Then full-on belly laugh. If that isn’t healing, I don’t know what healing is…
June 10, 2020
The Gifts of Invalidation
I’m revisiting old poems, letters, notes, and various other writings that I’ll be including in memoir number two.
Yesterday, I sat and read them aloud to my husband. He sat shaking his head with tears in his eyes.
In one of them, I was 32 years old and my dad was fifty-two. That was twenty years ago. I was asking him to please validate my pain—explaining that I needed it for my health to live my life fully. I explained all the work I was doing on myself in therapy, and sharing the books I had been reading. I asked him if he could he please help me by explaining some of the things I remembered. In the letter, I said it wasn’t to blame or hurt him, just to help me since I was having health issues such as depression, anxiety, panic attacks and back pain to the point of barely being able to walk. At age 32! There is no return response to that letter.
There are other letters to him and my mother where I fully tear into them and let them know in no uncertain terms just how awful it is for them to have such “selective memories” and how hurtful their dismissive, flippant attitudes hurt me. I tell them both how tired I am of the poking and prodding of me they do to get a response, yet, when I do respond, they insist I “live in the past and need to let things go.”
Then, there are soft and tender poems I started writing about my mother in the late 90’s. I wrote how sorry I was that I may not have always appreciated her, and how awful her life must have been. I assure her she was always loved. I was writing to her about understanding how difficult motherhood was since I was doing it alone. Then, I realized as I read,
I was searching for a common thread between us and trying to rectify in my mind that my suffering and hers were the same. I was actually begging to belong to my own damn family; giving to her what I wished she could give to me.
I know we’re supposed to be soft and gentle with our younger selves, but reading these letters and poems made me wish I could go back and actually ring my own neck! Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I was angry at first. How desperate to beg for love and belonging. But, I thought doing so meant I cared about the other person and was sending the message they were worth it. I didn’t realize I didn’t love myself. If I had, I would have never, ever, begged to be seen, heard and validated from people who proved again and again that they weren’t going to change.
Reading those letters proved I’ve been a lifelong seeker of the truth, and have spent my life thinking it was me who needed to change while those around me never did.
I read those letters now without any spark of emotion toward my parents, except for maybe some sadness. What a waste of a life to be the same at every age and stage of life. Nothing else in nature stays the same and unchanged except for a narcissist. — And, it’s all because their ego can’t take that they are not perfect and superior at every turn. How awfully sad.
Except for some residual twinges of anger about being desperate to connect with such dysfunctional people regardless of how self-sufficient I was, I’m proud of myself and who I’ve become. Because those around me refused to grow up, I’ve outgrown them by leaps and bounds from being in a constant state of change as a seeker of truth and self-healer. I had to go on to validate myself, learn to hear what it was I was really trying to say, and as a result, have always enjoyed my own company and can happily and healthily look at my imperfect self in the mirror and smile. I love me.
I took my twinges of anger toward my younger self or probably more of a residual irritation than it was anger to the yoga mat for mediation last night before bed. My god. I slept like a dead person last night with glorious, undisturbed, peaceful sleep and a calm mind. I awoke to such vivacious energy to continue on with writing and clarity about what comes next.
What a gift this has truly turned out to be. I am forever thankful.
[image error]My multitasking room where I write, make art, sew, do yoga, and meditate.
May 24, 2020
Balancing Act: Healing a Lifetime of Abuse While Still Living Life
We can feel as if we’ve been walking a tightrope in life when trying to heal from a lifetime of narcissistic abuse all while living our lives…
One book, course, or therapist will tell you to:
Feel It To Heal it, that’s the only way through.
Another book, course, or therapist will tell you to:
Let it go, Rise Above, and Transcend.
The REAL truth about healing from ANY of this is:
We have to do BOTH at the same time.
(The Key to this is: While listening to your body to guide you.)
This is how I’ve done this death-defying, tightrope walk my whole life:
Keep Moving. >>> Feel it to Heal It = Go in deep, Feel it all — No matter how messy. (For my strong days when excavating is easier.)
Be Still. >>> Transcend Above It = Stay Present in the Moment, Self-Care, and just do today. (For my not so strong days, when digging is too tiring. *Just holding the balancing pole is enough weight to carry today.)
Feel it to Heal it
Rise Above…
Keep Doing That.
On days you look like you’re floating around doing nothing… YOU’RE NOT DOING NOTHING!
You’re integrating and soaring to NEW HEIGHTS!
P.S. — *Don’t forget to give yourself credit for the weight of the balancing pole! 
The Beauty that Chaos Can Create
[image error]This is me: 1996. I was 29 years old, the single mother of an 11-year-old child, working FT as a nurse, and yet, was still driving back on my weekends off to visit my dad three hours away.
At one time I would have entitled this photo: “Looking for Crumbs of Love.”
In this photo I thought I was so grown. I had arrived. You could not have told me I didn’t love myself. You couldn’t have told me I didn’t approve of myself. And yet, there I sat. Smiling for the camera. Waiting to be seen, valued, and loved by my dad who snapped this photo of me stuffing my face with pizza. Today, I know that to be CoDependent and Trauma-Bonding.
I so craved a relationship with him. I wanted to be held and assured I could do anything, even though I already knew I could. I wanted him to tell me I was beautiful and that he was proud of me, even though I was already proud of myself. What I got instead, was four boxes of DiCarlo’s pizza with extra cheese and mushrooms awaiting me at each visit, and a large tin of Chock Full of Nuts Coffee at Christmastime. —This was how he showed love.
He complimented me on how my makeup and hair were always perfect no matter what, and how good I smelled all the time. —This is how he said he loved me.
And, it was all he was capable of at the time, but I was all in. I accepted those crumbs of attention and affection with gusto, but secretly I had always hoped for more. And each time he discarded me, even for years at a time, when he came calling, I’d go back to him looking, searching… hoping.
Don’t feel sorry for me, because I certainly don’t. There is no charge surrounding this memory anymore. I’ve done my work.
My purpose for telling you this is that because of this, I learned to accept crumbs of affection and sit in wait mode for more from every relationship I ever had. I was stuck in perpetual hope and excuse-mongering for those I loved and went on to do the emotional heavy lifting in all my relationships. I learned to be more than happy to make everyone comfortable, give until it hurts, and to be the first to accept fault when something went wrong.
Girls are taught to forgive, accept, and be the ones to sacrifice for others no matter what; whether those words are spoken out loud or not. We’re conditioned to set ourselves on fire to make everyone else warm and crush our bodies up against the walls of the small rooms we live in to make room for others. And by the time we are a certain age, we are bone tired and more pissed than a wet, hungry, and neglected pack of animals looking for food.
I reached that age early in life.
I was a girl, but I was a Steel Town Girl. I was taught by my abused mother to get my ass outside this moment and fight for myself. Was I just going to stand there and allow someone to push me around like that, she asked? (However, I watched her not defend herself? How confusing for a girl!) — So, in order to please her, I fought. And I fought dirty. She was watching after all.
That face you see in this photo may be full of hope and my cheeks full of pizza, but I was madder than a hornet. I was no victim. Never would be. I’d take what life had to offer, whether I liked it or not, and make something better out of it. So, each day, I wore an invisible crown and cape and wings and halo and armor and Army boots and black leather jacket and whatever else I needed to don to get through my day as I walked through life as half-angel, half ass-kicking ninja. I was tough as hell. So tough, that sometimes I scared myself.
And I wouldn’t have been able to do any of the difficult things I did without the parents I got. I couldn’t have done any of it without lashing out, getting selfish, and taking up space. I couldn’t have raised a son alone while trying to tiptoe, censor, and crouch down in the corner of the room. What kind of role model would I be if I had allowed that?
I wasn’t afraid to look unbalanced to get mine and my child’s needs met in a chaotic, uncaring world. And man oh man, was I ever mouthy! I didn’t care for one minute, who you were, or who you thought you were, if I had something to say, you’d hear from me. I was a fearless lioness!
I didn’t treat myself like a precious breakable object afraid to come out from behind a glass enclosure. I had already been through hell. So, I rolled up my sleeves and I got down and dirty. I disagreed. I disappointed others. And I destroyed. And I didn’t do it anonymously; I was no coward— I signed my name proudly.
I became loud in order to be heard and ranted for better treatment. And, I could be as cruel as they were. When I was accused of venting, complaining, — or bitching and being too much, I got even louder. I’ve been called a BITCH more times in my life than I could ever count.
If that doesn’t tell you anything about me, in nursing school, when everyone was assigned a long, quirky nickname that coincided with their personality — mine was Burning Acid in a Baby Doll Dress.
I may have looked innocent enough, with my big ass curly hair, hope-filled eyes, an hourglass shape in a pink nursing uniform standing there with a big ole cup of “Willingness to help, love and give to you” — but I’d rip you a new ass so fast you’d not know what hit you. If you were locked and loaded, I had already pulled your trigger.
Now, in today’s age of everything being narcissistic, people would have called me narcissistic. In fact, knowing what I know now, I would call me narcissistic. But, not in a bad or pathological way. It’s how I got my needs met. It’s how anyone gets their needs met. It’s how we make a path in life. Kicking and screaming the whole way. Loud as hell and not going anywhere anytime soon. Why? Because the fucking world we live in is narcissistic and drowns out the voices it doesn’t want to hear then tries to add shame to our list of baggage to carry! NO THANK YOU!
I was fighting to survive and stuck in fight mode, and with me there never was a flight, freeze, or fawn mode. I fought every, single. battle.
One mode: Fight.
One person: Me.
What a whirlwind!
I’ve survived some pretty unsurvivable things in life and I’m still here and better for it. I’m still bone tired most days and sometimes STILL madder than a hornet, but I’ve managed to keep my heart open to hope and love and the possibility of what if. If that isn’t forgiveness, I’m not sure I know what forgiveness is?
I’m much older now than I was in this photo. I’m a more concentrated version of Burning Acid. I use my potion sparingly to conserve it, and myself. And, I’ve learned to use it on things that really matter. And the more I learn, the more I realize, not much of it even does.
I owe this girl so many apologies for all the times she went without. For making her be the first to stand up and give even more despite her weariness and pain. I gave her no thought. Self before others. That’s what god would want. If I could go back in time, I’d lovingly shake this girl by the shoulders and tell her to WAKE UP! I’d tell her she is not god, not a superhero, and certainly not a magician with a healing salve in her hat of tricks!
We are older now. Women. Wiser. Worldly. And realize that it’s not the grit and determination we are learning to let go of as healing, aging women. It’s not our younger, wilder, selves we’re saying good-bye to. It’s the armor we are putting down. Armor is heavy! It’s MADE OF STEEL! It’s also a habit. A self-defense mechanism. The earlier version of us served us and our children well, we will keep the parts of her we still need to get through the rest of our lives; whatever that may bring, and bid the rest of her a heartfelt adieu.
I’ve learned some pretty amazing things as a result of narcissistic parents. Like, how to have hope. How to forgive. How to keep your heart open when it hurts like hell. How to see the good in others. How to rise above. How to be a seeker of information. How to self-heal. How to source myself with everything my son and I needed. How to be brave. How to be the only one in the room to take a stand. How to be patient. How to pray for others before yourself. How to be a hard worker. How not to give up so easily on things and people. How to wait. And wait, and wait and wait and wait…
But, I’ll no longer accept crumbs of love and attention, give cookies for less than stellar behavior, and go running around chasing after people asking for them to please see me, love me, accept me, choose me… I’ve shown up 150% in my life. 100 for me and 50 for the guy who didn’t show up. I’ve shown up battered, scarred and imperfect, my face smeared with blood, but I was there and did the work to the best of my ability each time. If people can’t do the same for me in return, then so be it. I’m not so naive anymore. And I don’t sit in perpetual hope and wait for things to change. I’m not going to try and try and try and try to fix shit I didn’t break and look for a reason to be wrong to keep the peace.
We girls, may, over decades lose ourselves in the service of others, raising of the kids, and learning to cater to a man’s comforts in life. We may forget as we age, the fire we once had in our veins as we were out kicking ass and taking names in our careers, but we are still her at our core.
We wave to our younger selves.
“Thank you for your grit, determination, and fearlessness! we yell, What a wonder you were to behold! You were responsible for some of the very best days of my life!”
She waves back. Smirking. She knows things she shouldn’t know, but she just does, somehow…
“I’m not going anywhere! I’m STILL right there INSIDE OF YOU and AVAILABLE to you AT ANY TIME! And you STILL have so much life left to LIVE!”
The older, wiser, more concentrated version of the Burning Acid woman I am today would entitle this photo:
“I Love Me So You Don’t Have To.”
#doyourwork #writingmemoir #memoirteachesyouaboutyourself #burningacid #grit #determination #Iamthelight
#Codependency #traumabonding #notwaiting
