Puppy Pee & the Narcissist
I have a puppy and I have depression.
I have a puppy and I have depression. This means my house stinks. I just shampooed the rug in my living room and even though the shampoo soap is lavender-scented, the rug and the room smell like puppy pee. And that reminds me of my Narcissistic ex-husband.
“Well,” you say, “doesn’t everything?”
And I respond, “Actually, yes.”
So here we are judging my inability to take the fucking puppy out often enough and my tendency to associate everything in my life with my ex-fucking-husband.
I do take the puppy out (hello, defensiveness). She’s a tiny Maltipoo, just 5lbs. and no, she’s not a rescue, so go ahead and judge away. She is the niece of my 3-year-old Maltipoo, who I originally got as a therapy dog for my daughter. He bonded to me because — life — so 2 1/2 years later we got Harper to be the actual therapy dog and a companion to Harley.
They are both:
a) adorable
b) bringers of joy & laughter
c) bonded to me, and
d) would rather pee on the soft carpet than on anything outside.
However, if they do get outside off the leash, then they’re….gone. I mean gone, gone. Down the road, in the neighbor’s yard, garage, 3 streets away. It’s awesome.
Am I an enabler? Fuck yes. Am I getting to clean up and suffer the consequences of my enabling behavior? Yes. Do I see parallels to my previous life everywhere? Apparently, not often enough.
But, when it gets so bad it actually STINKS, then yes. So there’s that.
Looking For the Why
I am not longer in a relationship with a Narc, however the damage and behavior patterns left behind are all over my life.
“Which came first?” you ask.
“I brought lots of damage to the marriage or I wouldn’t have been such an easy target. But looking for the ‘Why’ just wastes time,” I respond sagely.
Let me explain.
Looking for the why can be helpful in the beginning of any recovery process. I find it’s an intellectual step toward the juicy, emotional center of the real issues. It is best tackled with a professional therapist; someone who can support and guide you through the realizations of what happened in the past that got you to this point. But by myself, looking for the “Why” is a destructive path, leading to victimhood and self-pity. How and why I got here doesn’t really matter, except as a way to avoid looking at what’s next. What’s next is what really matters.
Picking Your Battles vs. Rationalization
The depressed mind is a thorny, swirling, nonsensical thing. Mine is on Celexa forever, but that doesn’t always keep me from being apathetic. It’s amazing, though, how agile the depressed mind can be when accountability is on the line. It can’t get me out of bed on bad days, but it can twist and backflip and salsa step its way out of fundamental functions - like taking the dogs out.
My survival was at stake when I was “picking my battles” in my marriage, but those aren’t the stakes now (at least not 6 years later). My 26-mile marathon is Accountability. I’m fighting the residue (literally) of my coping mechanisms from that 26 year marriage.
What have I signed up for?
What must I do to fulfill my commitment?
What are the consequences or outcomes if I don’t?
I could spend months or years tweezing apart whether what I did during my marriage was “picking my battles” or “rationalization”. Who fucking cares? I did what I had to, to survive. And I’m still here to prove it. Fine. Now, with the threat gone, how do I tackle the rest of my life, whether it’s caring for dogs, supporting my anxious daughter or deciding how to make a difference in the world? What’s next?
When life stinks, that’s your clue to take a look around, take responsibility for your part and do what’s next. For me that means taking the damn dogs out for a pee.
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