|Someone sleeping in and enjoying a sunny window and a soft bed.|
I think what really put me off was sitting down to write a timeline of the events surrounding my Brooklyn sublet and all that happened to make me leave in the midst of a snowstorm. I am still reeling on some levels from all those startling events. Not the least of which is the significant financial, energetic, and emotional toll this has taken on me.
Wikipedia quotes this about antisocial personality disorder:
The WHO's International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, tenth edition (ICD-10), defines dissocial personality disorder (F60.2) as:
- It is characterized by at least 3 of the following:
- Callous unconcern for the feelings of others;
- Gross and persistent attitude of irresponsibility and disregard for social norms, rules, and obligations;
- Incapacity to maintain enduring relationships, though having no difficulty in establishing them;
- Very low tolerance to frustration and a low threshold for discharge of aggression, including violence;
- Incapacity to experience guilt or to profit from experience, particularly punishment;
- Marked readiness to blame others or to offer plausible rationalizations for the behavior that has brought the person into conflict with society.
The diagnosis includes what may be referred to as amoral, antisocial, asocial, psychopathic, or sociopathic personality (disorder). Although the disorder is not synonymous with conduct disorder, presence of conduct disorder during childhood or adolescence may further support the diagnosis of dissocial personality disorder. There may also be persistent irritability as an associated feature.
The highlights are what I experienced in my close dealings with B2. Although I had known her for several years and we had not always had the smoothest of relationships, I was fond of her. And you know me, I'll try to work things out until the bitter end. Duh. I am too forgiving, I suppose, too willing to look to see what my complicity in interactions might be.
This put me in mind of a quote from a potboiler book and movie, Damage.
Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.
B2 had spoken to me of some of her life experience so I was not entirely unaware that there were some special challenges there. She hadn't lived with anyone in 23 years, so I knew there would be some adjustments on both sides. But I've had lots and lots of experience living with folks and am, in general, quite accommodating and flexible. I thought we could just work through it. I was entirely and thoroughly wrong.
I think B2 was the worst person, the biggest bully, the most abusive, that I have ever met. She had all the flexibility and self-righteousness of Dick Cheney. A truly frightening inability to negotiate or see another point of view, to forgive or understand. Sometimes, I am not even entirely aware that I am being abused, I am so astonished and unprepared. I always think that with my sweet temper and rationality and tolerant, humorous personality, I can cajole kindness and love out of the crazy.
|She snores. It's so cute.|
I doubt I will make that mistake again.
I did get some work done, some things unpacked or repacked, made a nice dinner, listened to the latest audiobook, Cutting for Stone.
So, I will try to put this day behind me and more hours between me and that experience. Fortunately, I had people to jump up to help me, support me, get my sorry ass out of that sling. Grateful and thankful, that's what I am.