President-Elect Trump is Gaslighting America December 20, 2016
Posted by alwaysjan in Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Politics.Tags: Gaslighting, Is trump a bully?, Lauren Duca, Teen Vogue, Trump is a Narcissist, Trump is Gaslighting America, Trump is Mentally Ill, What is Gaslighting
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I’ve blogged about Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) since 2008, long before Donald Trump descended that golden escalator in Trump Tower.
I thought I’d pretty much said all I wanted/needed to say about NPD. I put up two blog posts earlier this year noting that the consensus of numerous professionals in the mental health field is that Trump is the walking definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. You can read Is Donald Trump Actually a Narcissist? Therapists Weigh In published by Vanity Fair. (FYI: The article is in error on one thing. Narcissistic Personality Disorder does appear in the DSM-5. You have to scroll down several pages to to find it.)
Which brings me to the insightful Op-ed piece Trump is Gaslighting America by Lauren Duca that appeared last week in Teen Vogue of all places. Duca explains that gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse using manipulation.
Think of Narcissistic Personality Disorder and gaslighting as besties. What better way to keep control of the game (and yes, those with NPD look at everything as a game) than to keep other people wondering if you really meant what you said? Or if you even said it? It’s been called a crazy-making behavior because the person with NPD deftly maintains the upper hand by using a virtual sleight of hand card trick using words instead.
Have you noticed how easily Trump, when confronted with something he said or did or promised, without hesitation denies that he ever said it? Even if there’s a video of him saying it, he shouts, “Wrong!” or changes the subject with a provocative tweet. Or dismisses it because “nobody cares about that.” I’ve watched as veteran journalists seem at a loss for how to interview someone who says whatever he needs to say in the moment and while denying things he said in the past. When you are a narcissist, yesterday is ancient history.
Clearly you misunderstood them because a Narcissist can never be at fault. Geez, are you really that ________? (fill in the blank with a derogatory word).
It’s like trying to have a conversation with a petulant child who screams, “I know you are but what am I?” Over and over and over. Asking a Narcissist for clarification or explanation just opens the door for more half truths and boldfaced lies.
Dealing with a Narcissist is exhausting. Let’s face it, you can’t reason with crazy. But Trump’s “crazy” has a name, so please check the DSM-5s list of characteristics if you have any doubt.
Trump’s masterful ability to gaslight and distort the truth is dangerous as the goal of the Narcissist is to wear people down and eventually silence them altogether so no one will dare question them for fear of retribution and more lies. Do you really want to die on that hill?
Please read the imbedded links as it’s important to know when someone is gaslighting you or in this case the American people. It’s the first step to understanding how to get your/our voice back.
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Trump’s Rampant Narcissism March 8, 2016
Posted by alwaysjan in Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Politics.Tags: Donald Trump is a Narcissist, Frank Underwood, House of Cards, Is Donald Trump a Narcissist?, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, NPD, Republican Presidential Candidates, Sam Vaknin, Trump and Narcissistic Personality Disorder
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I like to find a graphic before I begin writing and let’s face it – it’s been a while. As Trump dominates the news, what better image than Frank Underwood’s cufflinks from the Netflix series House of Cards? Frank is the cloying sociopath who has wormed his way (with help from his wife, Claire, who is cut from the same cloth) into the highest office in the land – the President of the United States. Sound familiar?
I read an interview today Donald Trump and Narcissistic Personality Disorder – An Interview with Sam Vaknin on American Thinker, an uber conservative blog focusing on national security issues and Israel. Vaknin is a former Israeli citizen who was imprisoned there for fraud and now hangs his hat in Macedonia. He is the author of Malignant Self-Love: Narcissism Revisited. I like to think of Vaknin as the Head Vampire. But then I’m sentimental.
I’ve mentioned Vaknin once before in Barack Obama is a Narcissist and Other Urban Myths. Although this interview cites Vaknin’s numerous academic titles and refers to him as “Dr. Vaknin,” that title was bought via a diploma mill in California. Vaknin is touted as the ultimate authority when it comes to Narcissistic Personality Disorder while the interviewer fails to mention that Vaknin has proclaimed himself a “self-aware narcissist.”
That said, his assessment of Donald Trump, based on way too many hours of watching him on video, is pretty spot on.
Vaknin wonders, in light of Trump’s call to kill the families of terrorists, if there could be something else in play here aside from NPD. Since then, Trump has backtracked and I chalk up a lot of this due to his bombastic style and telling people what they want to hear at any given moment. He turns on a dime.
Should we be more alarmed about the popularity of Donald Trump or his “followers” who are basking in the Idealization Phase? Those who know a thing or two about Narcissistic Personality Disorder know what comes next. And it ain’t pretty.
A Psychologist’s Open Letter Regarding Narcissism August 30, 2015
Posted by alwaysjan in Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Politics.Tags: Donald Trump, Donald Trump is a Narcissist, Healthy Narcissism, Narcissism, Narcissistic Leaders, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Narcissistic Supply, NPD, Presidential Campaign
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A friend, who is a therapist, just posted a link to A Psychologist’s Open Letter to U.S. Voters from The Huffington Post. This is definitely worth a read as Dr. Craig Malkin, a Clinical Psychologist and Instructor at the Harvard Medical School, addresses the narcissistic continuum as it pertains to politics. He cautions voters to be wary of what they applaud for as their applause is music aka Narcissistic Supply to the Narcissist’s ears. A very interesting read.
California Dreaming and the Dream Act November 29, 2010
Posted by alwaysjan in Politics.Tags: Caution Illegal Immigrants crossing stencil, Dream Act, Illegal Immigrants, Illegal Students, Immigration Reform, Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center, Street art, The Dream Act, Undocumented Students
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A stenciled image from a wall in Venice, California reminiscent of the official yellow road signs posted along the freeway outside San Diego. The signs urged CAUTION and featured the same family of illegals running across the freeway. The signs were deemed not PC and eventually removed, but the image left a lasting impression.
Update Dec. 18, 2010 – The Dream Act fell five votes short of passing in the U.S. Senate today. What a wonderful Christmas present it would have been to have given these young people the gift of hope. Jan
On the front page of The Los Angeles Times today appeared an article Standing up for a Dream – With a vote due soon on the legislation, undocumented students are shedding their secrecy and speaking out. I’ve been meaning to write about the Dream Act for awhile. With its passage now being considered during this lame duck session of Congress, the time has come. I can’t stay silent for fear of ruffling a few feathers.
Two years ago a friend of my son’s, who I’ll call Jose (How generic is that?), lived with us for 18 months. When Jose was five, he and his younger brother were smuggled across the Texas border by two strange women – coyotes. His parents had left both boys behind with relatives in Mexico to seek work in the U.S. Jose’s mother, who was 15 when he was born, was converted by Mormon missionaries. So two boys from Puebla found themselves living on the outskirts of Salt Lake City – Mormon Ground Zero.
Jose’s parents worked day and night for a cleaning business often leaving the boys to fend for themselves. His father’s brother joined them. They bought a house. Jose and his brother attended public schools. Mormonism fell by the wayside. The marriage floundered. When Jose’s uncle died, his mother returned to Puebla with his younger brother to put things in order. The visit stretched into weeks, then months. She was not coming back, and Jose’s father had no interest in returning to Mexico.
Jose had come out to his mother as gay, but not to his father. When he did, his father wanted nothing to do with him (I’m happy to say that two years later, father and son reconciled.) So here was a boy in high school who to his mind was 100 percent American. His relatives in Mexico were appalled at how poor his Spanish was when he talked to them on the phone. And although he could speak Spanish, he never learned to read or write it.
Long story short – Jose moved in with us.
He couldn’t attend high school, so he studied for and passed the California High School Equivalency Exam. This allows students, in effect, to quiz out of high school and enter community college. But with no documentation, Jose would have to pay out-of-state tuition. He picked up a few cash jobs, but not enough to make ends meet. Certainly not enough to pay for college. Returning to Mexico was never an option, or at least one he discussed.
For Christmas we gave Jose a consultation with an immigration attorney through the Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center. The attorney laid out Jose’s options. Getting a fake Social Security card was never an option as that’s a felony which would have prevented him from ever applying for citizenship. He could petition the court that as a minor he feared for his safety if he returned to Mexico because he was gay. The attorney asked if anyone had ever molested him, or he had memories of abuse. Jose looked at him blankly. “I don’t remember anything about Mexico,” he replied. At the very least we were talking $5000 in legal fees. Then the attorney mentioned the Dream Act. We were all ears.
Obama had just been elected and the attorney was blunt. He thought the new president had way too many issues on his plate to tackle the hot button issue of immigration. Although the Dream Act had the support of both senators in California, as most of those students covered by the Dream Act live in California, its future was in limbo.
Jose thought about his options, or lack of. He grew depressed. Four months later, we bought Jose a one-way ticket to Mexico City. He was returning to a country he had no memory of. I felt like we were sending him into exile in Siberia. His tearful calls confirmed his worst nightmares. The culture shock was overwhelming.
I’m sure there are those who would say, “Boo hoo! That’s what you get for being illegal in America!” But Jose and so many other children here, including many students that I’ve taught, did not have a choice in how they came to the U.S. While many have floundered, those illegal students covered by the Dream Act represent the best and the brightest. I fear that many of our own “legal” children would not meet these standards. The Dream Act does not guarantee citizenship, but offers a path to legal residency. It offers hope.
Before you make up your mind, be sure to read the link to the article from The Los Angeles Times. I fear that if the Dream Act is not passed, those who’ve stepped forward into the light to share their stories must once again retreat into the shadows.
C is for Chaos June 19, 2009
Posted by alwaysjan in Politics.Tags: California Budget Crisis, Class Size Reduction, Economy, Education, Politics, Ranting, Recession, RIFs, Teacher Layoffs, Teaching
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The writing is on the wall, but can you read it?
When I got up this morning (Ahhh, first day of summer vacation) my husband was reading the newspaper. “It seems like it’s on the verge of exploding,” he said. I thought he was talking about my school district. Turned out he was talking about Iran.
What a colossal mess the state of California has made. And who’s going to pick it up? Us. The people. And teachers, of course. We’re good at picking up messes (primarily messy parenting).
Friday, after teachers had packed up their classrooms for summer vacation, emails arrived from our union. The RIFs (Reduction in Force notices) keep a comin’. Bottom line: Thirty-four MORE elementary teachers in the district are to be RIF’d. Also included in the cuts are a smattering of English, History, and PE teachers at the high school level.
My district isn’t huge, so that’s a lotta people. People who have children. People who have rent and mortgages to pay. People who are still paying off their student loans so that they could become a teacher. An updated seniority list is to be released next Wednesday, so everyone’s on edge. It reminds me of the classic movie Lifeboat. Supplies are running low and everyone’s looking to see who’s going to be thrown overboard next. (What’s that scent you’re wearing? “Chum?”) The sharks are circling.
For the record, my job is not in jeopardy, but those of many of my colleagues and friends are. It’s not like the students are going anywhere. If anything, we’re starting to see a slow exodus of students arriving from private school whose parents can no longer foot that bill.
I always tell people that when it comes to school, I expect chaos, so I’m never disappointed. That said, I’m disappointed. In the state. In the city. In my district. I don’t have enough fingers to point.
We’re not the only district in trouble. The Los Angeles Times ran a story today about how teachers in that district have “accepted a new contract that includes no pay raise for last year, this year or next year, but will allow them to take formal contract grievances public.” According to the story, “more than 2,500 UTLA members could be laid off as of July 1.” Ouch!
Freezing salaries opens yet another can of worms. I start a master’s program (along with two other teachers, one who’s been RIF’d) next week. I’ve already paid $1400 for the first quarter’s tuition. I don’t mind telling you that I’m getting my master’s for the salary bump. If salaries are frozen, where does that leave teachers like me?
This is not a script with a happy ending – Not for those teachers laid off, or for those left to manage herds of children come September.
My son Taylor forwarded me the following email. Food for thought.
In a small town in the United States, the place looks almost totally deserted. It is tough times, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit.
Suddenly, a rich tourist comes to town.
He enters the town’s only hotel, lays a 100 dollar bill on the reception counter as a deposit, and goes to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one.
The hotel proprietor takes the 100 dollar bill and runs to pay his debt to the butcher.
The butcher takes the 100 dollar bill, and runs to pay his debt to the pig farmer.
The pig farmer runs to pay his debt to the supplier of his feed and fuel.
The supplier of feed and fuel takes the 100 dollar bill and runs to pay his debt to the town’s prostitute that in these hard times, gave her “services” on credit.
The hooker runs to the hotel, and pays off her debt with the 100 dollar bill to the hotel proprietor to pay for the rooms that she rented when she brought her clients there.
The hotel proprietor then lays the 100 dollar bill back on the counter so that the rich tourist will not suspect anything.
At that moment, the tourist comes down after inspecting the rooms, and takes back his 100 dollar bill, saying that he did not like any of the rooms, and leaves town.
No one earned anything. However, the whole town is now without debt, and looks to the future with a lot of optimism.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the United States Government and the State of California are doing business today.
The Party’s Over June 13, 2009
Posted by alwaysjan in Politics, Teaching.Tags: Budget Cuts and Education, California Budget Crisis, California Teachers and Budget Crisis, Class Size Reduction, Classroom Management, Economy, Education, English Language Learners, First Grade, Humor, Ranting, Second Grade, Teaching, Third Grade
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The notice was put in the teachers’ mailboxes today (Friday afternoon). The bottom line – Due to the state of California’s severe budget crisis, the gates of Hell have been thrown open. We’d already been told that class sizes in September were going from 20 to 22. But today we were informed that class sizes could go to 25, or as high as 31. Oh, and that there could be layoffs of teachers as late as August 15th. There was no Happy Hour today. The mood amongst teachers was bewildered, even somber.
My first year of teaching was in 1997, when the state had just reduced the class size in grades K-3 to 20 to 1. Oh, the stories the veteran teachers could tell – of teaching 35 of those wiggley, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom!” first graders. And they were still standing (the teachers that is). I’m afraid that 20 to 1 is all I’ve ever known. I did a stint of student teaching in the fourth grade where the class size is typically 30+, but those kids are big and can sit in a chair (okay, most of them). It took me three weeks just to memorize all of their names.
I’m not worried about my job. This is my fifth year with the district, but other colleagues, who are also my friends, aren’t so lucky. When the first round of RIFs (Reduction in Force notices) went out on March 15, teachers lower in seniority were put on notice. In years past, this was always a formality, and they were hired back come September, when the classes filled up. But these are strange times.
According to the local paper, 160 students at a local Christian school are leaving due to their parents’ own budget crises. I’m pretty sure those kids will be coming to a school near me, and it will have the word “public” in in. But, how this will sort itself out is anybody’s guess.
It didn’t help that the news came after a long day of trying to pack up the classroom while keeping the students busy engaged. I believe I am the only teacher in history to accomplish this without showing the students a movie. A group of boys constructed an Amazonian forest in a huge cardboard box, while another group of students was busy “stitching” on their burlap flags. Stitching is not to be confused with “sewing,” which is a girlie pursuit. I fashioned “needles” out of paperclips and the kids went to town and did a surprisingly good job. Only later another teacher informed me that there were in fact real big plastic needles the kids could have used. Oh. I’m big at reinventing the wheel,
I only mention this because none of these activities would be possible with 30 plus kids in the room. Someone literally might poke their neighbor’s eye out with that paperclip due to lack of elbow room. Come September, space in my classroom could be disappearing as rapidly as the rain forest in the Amazon.
This gives a whole new meaning to June Gloom in Southern California.
Photo credit: The Unruly Birthday Party by Jan Marshall.
Yes We Did – Watch the Inauguration January 21, 2009
Posted by alwaysjan in Politics, Teaching.Tags: Education, Humor, Inauguration, Politics, Students watching the inauguration, Teaching, Third Grade
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I woke up at 5 a.m. worried about one of my students, who’s often tardy. I shouldn’t have bothered. When I arrived at school, he was already in line and eager to let me know he was the first one at school. I breathed a sign of relief. So far, so good.
I’d left a note on the classroom door. Any student who arrived late had to be personally escorted to the restaurant where we were going to watch the inauguration or go to another teacher’s classroom. The plan was to leave directly from the playground where we line up so as not to miss Obama’s swearing in. The Start bell rang. We had exactly 14 minutes to walk to the restaurant if we wanted to see Obama take the presidential oath.
We speed-walked in a single file line. Several of my students, giddy with excitement, said they felt like they were in “Make Way for Ducklings” (one of the stories we’ve read) and that I was Mrs. Mallard leading the parade. We arrived just in time to see Joe Biden sworn in as Vice-President. They piled their backpacks in a corner and found seats. We had the front room at the restaurant, and my students quickly settled in to watch Barack Obama sworn in and listen to his speech, while they were served orange juice and muffins.
Then out came the real food. Hot trays with three kinds of eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and pancakes. There were beans and meatballs and even baklava. One of my students who’s African American brought her mother and her grandmother (who was still younger than me!). They brought me the bracelet in the photo above. I have a wonderful photo of them – three generations – watching the inauguration. In one photo, my student’s grandmother is wiping away tears. It’s a beautiful image.
As I looked out over my students, I saw the faces of the future. My students are Asian (Korean, Chinese, and Vietnamese), Latino (Mexico and El Salvador), African American, Armenian, Bosnian, Pakistani, and my token white student (I have one every year), who’s excited that he’s learning some phrases in Bosnian. In short, they are the faces of American – and our country’s future. If my class is any indicator, our country is in good hands.
My Son – Who Happens to be Gay November 22, 2008
Posted by alwaysjan in Life, Parenting, Politics.Tags: Civil Rights, Equality, Family, Gay Marriage, Gay Rights, Gay son, GLBT, Health, Homosexuality, Keith Olbermann, LGBT, Life, Parenting, PFLAG, Proposition 8, Transgender
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I have two sons. My younger son, Ian, happens to be gay. I didn’t set out to have a gay son. But then Ian didn’t set out to be gay, and to be honest, it came as a shock to him as well. He was confused about why he felt “different.” And he struggled alone. Even now, I can’t imagine what that was like for him when he was only nine and had a crush on a boy in the fourth grade.
When Ian was 14 and a half, we were sitting in the doctor’s office, and he announced he was gay. We laugh now remembering what happened next. I blurted out, “Oh my god, I hope my parents die soon!” This was because my parents had left their church in the Midwest over the issue of gay unions. My head was spinning. Driving home, I was in a fog. I’ve always had gay friends, but my son? My eyes brimmed with tears. Why me? What I remember most is what my son said next. “Mom, I’m the same person I was before – it’s just that now you know.”
“Please don’t tell Dad,” Ian asked. My response? “That’s like asking me not to tell your father the house is on fire!” So he told his dad who was surprised, but ultimately okay with it. Then he told his older brother who shrugged. “Just don’t expect me to go riding around in one of those gay pride parades.”
Ian felt such a sense of relief to be able to be honest about who he was. This was the same kid who had written “I’m gay” in Sharpie on the back of another boy’s jacket in middle school. Talk about confused self-loathing. It wasn’t easy for him though.
Ian, who’s outgoing and always had lots of friends, thought once he came out, other students at his high school would come out as well. He waited…and waited. There was one other boy who was extremely flamboyant, who Ian wanted nothing to do with. Ian had played Little League baseball and considered himself a jock. His attitude was, “If I want to hang out with a girl, I’ll hang out with a real girl.”
Looking back, I can’t believe how brave my son was. Yes, he took a boy as a date to the prom. He was confident no one would give them a problem as Ian is infinitely likable and has a wicked sense of humor. No one did, but I held my breath. As a parent, I was frightened that someone would lash out at my son, verbally or physically. But being young, Ian was convinced he could change the world – or at least people’s opinions – one at a time. And to his credit, he did and continues to do so.
Meanwhile, my husband and I found PFLAG ,Parents, Family and Friends of Lesbians And Gays. (I should note that at the meetings I attended there were also families with transgender children.) We met so many incredible people at those meetings. People came because they too had family members and friends who were gay. Those who’d been attending for awhile always described being able to acknowledge their child’s sexual orientation as an amazing “journey.” It was painful though when parents who’d just found out their child was gay came to a meeting. Some were still in such a state of shock or denial they couldn’t speak. But the important thing was they showed up. It was the first step on their journey.
There was a Chinese woman who wanted to know if there were herbs that could turn her son, who was in his 30s and a doctor, back to “normal.” There were African Americans whose childhoods were so interwoven with the church, they felt ostracized in their own community. And there were people who’d gotten married because, “I thought if I got married and had a family, it might make IT go away.” They’d come to the conclusion that telling a lie is easy, but living a lie takes a toll on one’s soul.
Eventually, I couldn’t keep The Secret any longer. After a year, I broke down and told my parents their grandson was gay. They were in shock, but they love Ian. Several years later when they were visiting, my father said to Ian, “Someday when you meet the perfect woman…” He caught himself. “I mean man,” he said. Ian was overjoyed as he adores his grandparents.
My son has never been interested in the club scene. “That’s not the way you and dad raised me,” he said with such earnestness, that my heart ached for him. He talks about “when I have a kid.” He has that optimism that comes with youth. It helps that we live in Southern California. Ian is still put off by “girlie” guys and was critical of people who are transgender until he saw the movie Transamerica. He watched it again the other night and said it made him cry. So even he has been on his own journey of understanding.
My son is now 22. He goes to college and he, and his boyfriend of a year, live with us. The other day he asked, “Mom, at what age are you considered a loser if you still live at home with your parents?” I told him with the economy the way it is, this might be as good as it gets. But we’re all okay with that.
I really don’t give much thought to my son being gay anymore. It’s just one part of who he is, but certainly doesn’t define him as a human being. I was disturbed though when he came to me last night and told me how upsetting it was when several young men chanted, “Yes on 8!” when he and his boyfriend walked by. Ian is a peaceful person, and it was all he could do to not say something. And of course, you always think of just the right thing to say afterwards. But hate, even though Ian knows it stems from ignorance, still hurts.
So when my friend TIna, who also has a gay son, emailed this morning that she’s going to attend a peaceful march tonight to protest the passage of “Yes on 8,” I said count me in. She and some of our friends marched last weekend. They sent me pictures of them holding their placards. What impressed me most was that most of those who showed up didn’t have a gay child. They were there because they thought it was the right thing to do. They believe in equal rights for all Americans.
So now it looks like it’s going to be a gay day. I can think of a lot of things I’d rather be doing on a Saturday night. But the stakes are just too high. We’re not talking about one of THOSE people. We’re talking about my son.
One of the most eloquent and impassioned commentaries I’ve seen on this issue is “Keith Olbermann’s Response to Prop. 8.” To view his commentary, please press the following link. Peace.