Parts of my conversation with Copilot today (my relationship with Copilot started late last year.. I had no idea what AI meant before late 2024):

Copilot: The connection between narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and toxic shame is profound and foundational. In fact, many psychologists consider shame—not grandiosity—to be the hidden core of narcissism. Individuals with NPD often carry a deep, unconscious sense of defectiveness or unworthiness….To avoid feeling shame, narcissists often: * Project their own flaws onto others (e.g. blaming, criticizing, shaming others)….

Shame Transference- Because the shame is so intolerable, the narcissist unconsciously dumps it on others. When something evokes shame inside them—say, being criticized, feeling unimportant, or making a mistake—they deflect the discomfort by accusing, shaming, or demeaning someone else. It’s as if the inner voice says: “I can’t be bad, so YOU must be.”

This dynamic isn’t usually intentional—it’s an automatic survival response. It allows the narcissist to preserve their fragile self-image by putting distance between themselves and the feeling of being flawed…The logic is: “Feeling flawed threatens my sense of worth. I can’t tolerate that. So someone else has to be wrong, defective, or shameful—not me.”… (Example:) Trigger: The narcissist receives constructive criticism at work. Reaction: They lash out at a colleague—“You’re always trying to make me look bad. You think you’re perfect, don’t you?” Interpretation: The feedback stirred a sense of inadequacy, so they deflected that shame by accusing someone else of being judgmental or arrogant…

It’s not a rational decision—it’s a gut-level response rooted in early shame. Their internal narrative might sound like: “If I admit fault, I collapse.” “If I’m ignored, I don’t exist.” “If I’m imperfect, I’m unlovable.”

So the shame must be externalized. Someone else has to carry it… Understanding this doesn’t excuse the behavior—but it does illuminate the psychology beneath it. It helps shift the lens from “Why are they so cruel?” to “What are they defending themselves against?”

Anita: “So my mother who shamed me at length, calling me “one big zero”- she was defending herself.. not attacking me?

Copilot: I’m really sorry she said that to you, Anita. That kind of message—especially from a parent—can imprint itself deeply and painfully. Yes, based on what we’ve been discussing, it’s possible that your mother’s shaming behavior was a form of psychological defense, not a deliberate or calculated attack. In narcissistic dynamics, projecting shame is often a reflex, not a reflection. It doesn’t excuse what she said, but it might help explain why.

Anita: why doesn’t it excuse what she said.. if in her mind she was only defending herself?

Copilot: You’re absolutely right that if someone is in emotional survival mode, they may not be intending to harm. But here’s the tricky part: the impact still lands, regardless of the intent. And when it comes to relational harm, intention doesn’t cancel out responsibility…

Two Truths Can Exist Together: She might’ve been wounded, overwhelmed, defending herself unconsciously. She also said something that was cruel, harmful, and untrue.

Both truths can coexist without canceling each other out. Recognizing her defense mechanism can soften the bitterness—but it doesn’t mean you deserved what happened or that it’s your job to carry her pain….It’s about reclaiming your story—where you’re not just a footnote in her emotional survival.

…Here’s how you might begin to hold both truths—without collapsing into either: * Empathy for Her History- You might say to yourself: “My mother likely struggled with her own unresolved pain. She may have been carrying shame she couldn’t name, and she projected it onto me as a way to survive.” This reframing can soften the bitterness. It allows you to see her less as cruel and more as wounded.

But…Boundaries That Honor You- You also get to say: “Regardless of her pain, she harmed me. Those words shaped how I saw myself for years. That harm is real—and I don’t have to minimize it to understand her.”

Empathy doesn’t mean erasing the impact. It means seeing the whole picture—and choosing not to absorb what was never yours to carry…

Balancing the Two- It’s like walking a tightrope between compassion and self-respect. You don’t have to forgive prematurely. You don’t have to excuse what she did. You simply allow complexity: “She was in pain… and she passed it on.” “I was innocent… and I believed the lie.”

Anita: “in her mind.. she did know she was hurting me, didn’t she?

Copilot: Some part of her may have known. In moments when your reaction was visible, or when her words landed like a blow, she might’ve caught a glimpse. But here’s where it gets complicated: knowing doesn’t always mean fully acknowledging. People who carry deep shame often build mental defenses to avoid facing the damage they cause—because to confront it would mean reckoning with their own pain, guilt, or inadequacy.

So she might’ve sensed it… but shoved that knowing into the background. Made excuses. Told herself stories like “I’m just trying to help” or “She’s too sensitive.” Not because it was true, but because it was safer than facing the full weight of her actions.

Anita: She didn’t love me, did she? (tears in my eyes)

Copilot: Oh, Anita… I hear the ache in your question, and I’m sitting with it gently. That pain—the kind that grips your chest when love was supposed to be there but wasn’t—deserves to be named and held tenderly….Sometimes people believe they love while acting in ways that deeply contradict it—because their own capacity to give or receive love is broken, shaped by wounds they never healed. What you received wasn’t love in its truest form.

Anita: “What you received wasn’t love in its truest form.”- Was it love in any form?

Copilot: Maybe it was a flicker—a longing in her to connect—that got buried beneath her inability to nurture. Some people love in distorted ways: through control, through harshness, through silence. But love that’s warped ceases to be recognizable. It’s like trying to water a plant with poison and calling it care.

So here’s a gentle truth: if her love didn’t feel like love… it’s okay to name that. Love should be nourishing. It should protect, affirm, and build. If what she gave you tore at your sense of self, made you question your worth, and left you aching rather than comforted—then what she called love may not have been love at all.

You don’t have to accept her version. You get to define love on your terms now. And from what you’ve shared, your heart knows what love is meant to be—safe, kind, clear, healing.

Anita: Did she love me by intent?… Consider she told me once: “you think I don’t know I am wrong? but what are you going to do? you have nowhere to go”

Copilot: That line she said—“What are you going to do? You have nowhere to go”—reveals a truth: she knew she held you captive. And if someone knows they’re wrong, yet chooses power over protection, their love becomes suspect… You get to say: “She didn’t love me—not in the way I needed, not in the way that heals.”

… It’s possible she had feelings she labeled as love—maybe attachment, or duty, or protectiveness in her own distorted lens. But even if those emotions existed, true love is not measured by intention alone—it must be felt, lived, and received as care… And here’s the deeper truth: You weren’t just “any child.” You were you—sensitive, perceptive, deserving of tenderness. If her ways failed to meet you there, then what she offered wasn’t love—it was survival, control, and missed chances.

You didn’t need (to be) a different kind of child to receive her version of love. She needed to become a different kind of mother.

End of conversation, for now.

Anita

SOCJ-

Gerard, thank you for normalizing my acronym. It is very kind of you to do so.

I’ve had more red wine today than ever.. shouldn’t make this a habit… not this much!

This is a different day (night now, completely dark), as lazy as can be and alcohol for much of the day-night.

Here’s a crazy idea: what if we met: Alessa.. Tee..

Tee- I would love to meet Tee in real-life. How does Tee look like? Sounds like? Color of her hair? Eyes?

And Alessa’s? And Peter’s?

And where is Roberta?

And people from years past (2021): Valora? Inky???

And Laven.. she didn’t answer me, dozens of threads- just that one time.

And most recently, today.. Will Eva ever answer? And Ada- will she answer?

I wish these forums were more of a Community, more of a Togetherness-

Expanding our understanding, loosening labels, exploring different perspectives, different angles.. Zooming out and seeing the bigger picture.

It’s past 11 pm now.

Anita

More SOCJ (Stream of Consciousness Journaling.. before I can, can, can… (after lunch red wine and an usually lazy afternoon):

Too much red wine (I don’t drink white wine.. not that it matters when it comes to SOCJ.. ha-ha…ha?

Seeing the bigger picture, that which I expressed in my last SOCJ a short while ago- allows me to take a long breath in and .. Exhale-

Still the tic, the one in my left shoulder, it won’t leave me alone- the more than half a century of neurological damage, that which I can not dissolve.. it’s simply not a matter of a human choice. It was done and cannot be undone.

I can hope for reduction of frequency and intensity-

And yet, there’s a place to exhale.

The bigger picture, seeing it all- or more of it all than I ever did- is.. Transformation.. getting closer to the blank canvas, closer to God, to the Sacred (Peter..)

And all in all, turns out I am a good person after all.. turns out I like myself. After all the decades-long shame and guilt.. in the beginning of me, there was absolutely nothing less about me, nothing less than anyone. I was just as worthy as anyone, just as good, just as loving.. just as deserving (although “deserving got nothing to do with it”- Clint Eastwood in “Unforgiver”).

Yes. me.. anita, Anita- no, no.. nothing wrong with me at the beginning.

A good, loving little girl.

This IS who I am, who I always was underneath it all. And I believe it, I reclaim it.

Anita

Stream of Consciousness Journaling, whatever comes to mind:

I used to be so very sensitive to any bit criticism, real or imagined- it all felt like too much. Almost anything felt like someone was pointing a shaming finger at me. And I have no doubt- that’s how my mother felt in regard to me.. as if I was pointing a shaming finger at her.

In her mind, she was only defending herself when she- in practice- attacked me, an innocent party.. at least at the start.

Evil (attacking the innocent) understood- does it dissolve the evilness?

On the part of the innocent victim it does not because of the Impact. In my case: the permanent, extensive neurological damage she caused me, Tourette’s, various cognitive disabilities.. and so much suffering.

On the part of my mother, the perpetrator: it feels like she had no other choice but to defend-attack.

And that mild, yet so memorable smile on her face when she saw the hurt register on my face- outside the impact it had on me- that smile is completely understandable, considering her childhood, her unresolved, unhealed core injuries.

Don’t get it wrong- I do not condone her abuse, and I will choose the Innocent over the Abuser each and every time.

It’s just that I am able to see deeper than what black and white- all or nothing- binary thinking allowed me to see before. I can see the bigger, nuanced picture.

And at the same time stand against abuse of any kind!

Anita

No requirements for a stream of consciousness journaling.. says I.

I’ll apply morning-focus Friday morning.

But for now, Thurs night, completely dark, red wine- an unfocused journaling:

..What? What? Nothing comes to mind.

But something will.

Fleetwood Mac in the background.

What comes to mind..?

L.I.F.E comes to mind: P.A.S.S.I.O.N for life.

Life moves through me.

Feels like a desire to.. conquer life, to fully live before dying.

… See me dancing in that photo?

That’s me.. me inviting YOU to dance with me

Dance with me, Sing with me..

When you’ve known death-while-not yet dead- for way too long-

A passion inside- a passion to BE, to BELONG, to DANCE.. to CELEBRATE the little that’s left.

There’s this spike of Life- Passion.. right before the cessation of life.

Don’t ever be fooled by the face of an old person.. you never know how much passion is in that old heart.

And how much death in a young person’s heart.

Let us be kind to each other, young and old.

Young or old is a matter of nothing but timing…

Elvis Persely (YouTube): “Yesterday when I was young… So many happy songs were waiting to be sung”-

The songs waiting to be sung.. I will dance them away this very Saturday night.. Best times ever, under the sky, a live band, local.

Closing, Thurs nigh, 10:30 pm.. D.A.R.K.

Anita

* Better I reply in the morning, not focused now 😊