My father's past led him accuse us constantly of destroying his day.
I now know that you can't really ruin the day. Even if you could, there's another one coming 'round the corner. Just turn the page, and it is there. Days evaporate like chimney smoke into blue sky, or new snowflakes on your tongue. No matter if one single snowflake melts. Look around, more are floating all around you. One day is gone, but here's another handed to you like an unopened gift.
There was a time when I thought a day could be ruined, when I was small and Dad would frequently glare at Mom with cold, enraged eyes. "You have ruined this day," he would snarl as she wept copious tears over the day going down the pipes. After all, several such days would make a miserable week, a useless month, a spoiled lifetime....what a dire prospect!
Of all the days in the year, we learned, you must especially be careful not to ruin Christmas, or Easter, or anyone's birthday. How could a day be spoiled completely? By burning the steak. By saying something thoughtless. By inviting a friend over when the parents weren't in the mood for noisy kids. A day, we feared, could be ruined accidentally by stepping over boundaries you never knew were there until you screwed up. Anything could destroy a day, because the 24 hour period was fragile and temporal and vulnerable. It didn't matter if your intentions were benign; you never knew quite which rule of emotion and logic you were breaking, you could quite easily pass the boundaries and trample on Dad's day. The only way to safeguard Dad's day was to act happy, to voice no preference, harbor no opinion, and certainly to manifest no anger or disappointment. I grew up. I married a practical, non-dramatic man with skin as thick as hippopotamus hide. It's a good thing, because I have accused him once or twice of ruining my very life. He looked at me for just a moment in surprise and said, "That's nonsense." We went on to adjust the problem, and I found that my days, weeks, months, and years were not ruined. There they were! Complete like a set of matched pearls, strung in a lovely lustrous row! No harm done, no decay, no ruin in sight.
Every morning with my husband is a gift from God. My mind and soul, fresh from dreamy, dewy worlds, hopes anew each day for love, invention, friendship, prosperity, and all the wonder that may be gathered and treasured before sunset. With him, I am even safe to express worry or anger. If I prefer one type of restaurant over another, he may argue, but the day isn't ruined. If the kids disappoint and frustrate me, that's just life, but there's still tomorrow. And if we accientally trespass, there is forgiveness, and a chance to start again--tomorrow.
The e-book version of Sam Vaknin's "Malignant Self - Love - Narcissism Revisited". Contains the entire text: essays, frequently asked questions and
appendices regarding pathological narcissism and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).
