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Narcissists have an uncanny understanding of others and can always be counted on to find some ally somewhere whom they can convince of the lies that the narcissist believes about themselves

I’ve been listening to the How Stella Got Her Groove Back audiobook at bedtime for a few nights now. Stella is a 42 year old divorcee single mom who goes to Jamaica to get away from her stressful life and ends up meeting a man half her age even though she really wasn’t going there to meet a man. It just so happens I am also a 42 year old divorcee single mom and I am going to Jamaica this summer to get away from my stressful life and I’m really not going there to meet a man. I’m waiting to see how the book ends (literally and figuratively)

Taye Diggs looking okay I guess

Life has been stressful and I’m ready for some beautiful beaches and reggae and guided tours of marijuana farms. I’ve had flying monkeys coming at me from multiple directions. I speak, of course, of the vampire-narc’s flying monkeys. The people in their lives that do their dirty work for them, like they did for the Wicked Witch of the West.

Hmm, well now I’m mixing together vampires and witches and that just isn’t fair to witches. Oh well. Apologies to the witches reading this (and their allies). Now where was I? Yes, I’ve had some different flying monkeys using differing tactics this month. One was the nice kind and the other was the malicious, aggressive kind. Harassing and fairly incoherent texts were received. A slight twinge of feeling betrayed followed by a sadness for my children that this is the world they live in. One where vampires are common and hard to spot sometimes. A world where vampires make more vampires.

I have to say I’ve had many, many monkeys sent after me over the years but they’ve always been the nice kind. They try to lure you back into the orbit of the narcissist with flattery, defending the narcissist, encouraging you to try again, and guilt tripping. Looking back, it’s truly mind blowing the sheer number of monkeys and how unlikely some were (because glamour). I’d be impressed if it weren’t for the fact it is an act of manipulation by the very old undead creatures that they use to feed on humans longer and, therefore, not something to be impressed by. Disturbed yes. Repulsed yes. Impressed no. But the monkeys were always nice then. Having an attack monkey sent after you is something else entirely.

So, I shooed the little flying primate away and blocked it from texting me and told its vampire to keep it on a leash. Which they said they’d do (although see here for why I shouldn’t believe them). The same sorts of things that kill vampires kill flying monkeys too. Not engaging in their imbecilic drama, pointing out reality, being rational. They’re simple creatures. Just annoying at times.

The vampire in question made the right call moving from nice flying monkeys to mean ones. I see the vampire for what they are and no amount of flattery or manipulation or guilt trips or empty promises of a glittering future from a flying monkey will change that. Not anymore. Fool me once shame on you; fool me twice shame on me; fool me daily for nine years, that’s one very big therapy bill. But I am the fool no more.

So, let the very old, tired looking undead creature send their mean monkeys with their angry confusing text messages. I have plenty of sage and selenite to clear the energy after I delete them. And a little reggae and a good book will take my mind off of it nicely.