It’s a really good idea to learn what narcissists and people with BPD are like, because being in a relationship with them is often life destroying, and learning to recognize the warning signs and get out once you begin to realize what they are is the key to not wasting your life on someone who has little regard for you as a human. People with BPD CAN improve, kind of, I still think you should be extremely leery of them, narcissists will wreck your life and make you think it’s all your fault, without a qualm, and never improve because they don’t care if they hurt you. They will both discard you and then try to lure you back in when they need their emotional “supply” or want something else from you. There is NOTHING you can do for a narcissist, so get out before they make it impossible for you to do so. It’s definitely more of a buzz word these days, but if someone you are in a relationship with has chronically toxic and manipulative behavior to you, gaslights you, somehow makes everything your fault, lies, cheats, wrecks your finances, family relationships, etc, they are never going to change. This is not something that they have no control over, it’s deliberate.

(BPD people can progress if they actually get a diagnosis and intensive therapy and have insight, but there’s no question many of them wreck lives. I am sorry if you are a person suffering from BPD and I do wish for healing for you, it’s very difficult, but people do have the right to protect themselves from destructive behaviour, and people have the right to say no to having someone with BPD in their lives who have hurt them irreparably and refuse to get help).

Something I’ve noticed is that when South Asian people refer to someone by their first and last name, they always say Smith, John, instead of John Smith.

I’m not sure, but the neighbours hand raised a starling who then decided we were his best friend, and I’ve never seen such a personality in a bird. He would yell through the kitchen window for me to come get him and take him for a drive around the block. He loved the car, came for walks with me and my dogs sitting atop my head and rooting through my hair, teased my dog by sitting just out of his reach and squawking at him as a joke, and it was SO amazing, but you could actually pick his specific voice out among all the many chirping birds when he was chirping at us to come outside and pay attention to him and feed him, I had no idea wild birds could be so very funny and demanding. He’s still alive five years later and summons the neighbour to come outside and give him mealworms by yelling through the window.

Panties. Paaaaanties.

Best: my cousint got married in Montreal and that was a wonderful time. Beautiful city and just a rare time when my mother didn’t act like an asshole. I was 13 and I looked SO nice.

Worst: my high school friend got pregnant at 18 by some Italian asshole, his mother was an immigrant Italian and hated her, and it was a rush wedding. I was a bridesmaid. The bridesmaids thought we’d take a silly photo of us with our dresses hiked up one leg in a quasi modeling pose, just for fun, and her new husband told her it looked slutty and not to do it. They’re still together, antivaxxers, convoy supporters, and her teeth are so rotten it’s unbelievable and sad. I know she cheated on him too. She at least got involved in a church and made some friends and took a trip to Asia, but yeah they just run a shitty pizza joint and live in the tiniest falling apart house in the world.

My second apartment with my ex. He picked it out, and he always seems to gravitate towards the shitty places because he’s just a trash human in reality. I even told him I hated it and wanted to look elsewhere and he insisted it was all we could afford, which was false, because he’s a fucking bully and liar. The second bedroom which I used for my office had such ancient linoleum tile for flooring that it ground to pieces under my desk chair. The toilet was so small it was almost unusable, the bathroom had zero outlets, they did not provide kitchen appliances like most do, it was very small, no air conditioning, and the first summer we lived there they decided to replace the balconies so it was even hotter. It had one ancient elevator for the whole building, they locked the laundry room at 6 pm, the closets were tiny, it had mice and a drunken superintendent, and it was just miserable and I hated it. Then we moved up north for my ex’s job, which is a whole other can of worms, and he picked what was largely regarded as the shittiest apartment complex in town, the hallways smelled of cat piss, and people smoked openly in the hallways. The apartment itself inside was ok, it was pretty large and reasonable.

I picked the next place and it was reasonable for us and we had super low rent as we lived there for 10 years. We had to move because my landlord wanted it for his kid and evicted us under the personal use clause, and he ended up picking a place in a neighborhood I loathe, which is renovated and very expensive, at least has a dishwasher and washer and dryer, but we’ve had horrible pest problems, and it’s like 1K more than our last place, but that’s what rent is here. I still live with him because I can’t afford to move out, but I hate it and him; he always has this perverse need to be provocative by picking a place I hate.

I thought there was a nursing community.

I am a HCW, and I sure do have stories.

My Nexus 6 was my favourite of all time.

It wasn’t over the top toxic, but I remember my old immigrant Italian landlord was on the phone with me as I called him about a repair, and after speaking to me about what I needed for a moment, asked if he could speak to my ex instead because he didn’t seem to think I could take the instructions.

I’m super into glam metal from the 80s these days. I forgot how much I love it.

Groceries. I’m so sick of the price gouging. Ketchup in my grocery store across the road was 6.99 a bottle yesterday. I did not buy any.

I don’t understand Parks and Rec.

I made a friend I would message with, and he had cancer, he was a middle aged teacher, and we had all these lovely chats. His last message to me was that he was in the palliative ward in a hospital with a fungal infection, and I assume he died after that because I never heard from him again. I miss you my dear friend.

It’s so epic though. Such a great book.

The Great God Pan, which is a terrifying novel by Arthur Machen.

A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley.

It’s Not You by Dr Remani Durvusala, which is about how to escape from a narcissist and is the most helpful book.

Lita Ford’s autobiography Living Like A Runaway.

Our library apps here have books in other languages. Can’t hurt to look.

You can also borrow ebooks through your library’s ebook app, there are a few types. I have signed up for many digital library cards with fake addresses, I get more selection and they get funding, it’s a win for all.

Wireless phone charger. I’ll be stuck somewhere looking at my low battery life, and suddenly remember it’s in my purse. It isn’t the fastest charge but it is useful.

I was 9 and had grown breasts, and they were just fascinating because they were new. My brother’s friend caught me absentmindedly bouncing one in my hand.

That’s a Florida Man style story.