So many truths in the raw words….. What a great post for me tonight, when my narc has moved on and my kids love her. I’m so certain he’s saying some of this to her.
“eventually she will be me, grovelling, pleading with him to lie to her, just don’t leave but he will and then she will remember being smug and I will forgive her because she is no better than me, no worse than me, she is just another victim of wishful thinking.”
When I found out JC had moved in with another woman the thing that hit me hardest was; now he was lying to her. Crazy thinking I know but I had clung to those lies for so many years, they gave me hope, were the base for my wishful thinking; without those lies I had to face the truth.
The truth was ugly and I had been avoiding it with a vengeance for at least the last 2 years. The last few years I used to pray he would lie to me, tell me any feeble lie, just anything at all!! so I could lie to myself.
The nights he didn’t come home and didn’t answer his phone I didn’t pace the house any more, I didn’t fly into a rage, I was numb, I just prayed he’d tell me a lie. I had stopped snooping on his phone and…
I was reading and listening to Dr Robert Hare yesterday and another female expert on domestic violence, and I forget her name now. But she deals with women who have come out of a domestic abuse situation and she quoted Dr Hare and referenced his research.For those of you who don’t know who Robert Hare is, he is a professor at the University of BC and probably the world’s leading expert on psychopaths and narcissists. He developed the list of traits used to diagnose psychopaths and has studied the disorder for 30 years. If there is anyone I would believe it is Dr Hare.We hear these abusers called psychopaths, narcissists, sociopaths, borderline, and antisocial disordered; it all gets very confusing; what is he? Like the female expert said, ‘Does it really matter what we call them? they were abusive and are dangerous.” But there are subtle differences. Borderline…
I always find it difficult to explain how deeply I feel about a friend. I always fear I’ll leave out an important detail or my friend will think I’m just blowing smoke. I realize those fears are my own projections. In the recent past, I’ve been a bit weary of praises I’ve received. I’ve always questioned if they were authentic or if the person throwing them my way wanted something from me.
Fortunately, the spiritual journey on which I have actively been participating for a couple of years now, has allowed me to discern the authentic and unauthentic, both in myself and others. After all, we’re all guilty of superfluous thoughts and exaggerations…mostly out of fear!
So this is a post about love and friendship. Fear doesn’t enter the equation.
A few weeks ago, I visited California. Before my trip, I reached out to a few bloggers I knew through…
My blogging friend Lou shared this with me and I am passing it along to you. At first you might think “what does this have to do with narcissism?” It has everything to do with narcissism.
We are consumed with our broken hearts, how we will heal and go on and because of that it is very hard to look beyond our own pain, many of us; me included, are struggling to make ends meet because the narcissist destroyed us financially. He stripped us of everything we hold dear and everything we needed to survive in the world because he is mean like that. He cares nothing for anyone, his only concern is his own comforts and meeting his own needs and anyone who gets in his way can be damned. He doesn’t care about repercussions because he will just tell more lies to cover the lies that were exposed…
I like answering all of my mail. Sometimes people contact me and leave no return address.
Today someone contacted me and left no return email. He asked about first loves. I hope he sees this post and feels more secure and less guilty about continuing to love his first love.
Despite this blog’s seemingly negative outlook about relationships and love, I very much believe in love and have loved and been loved throughout my life.
I, for one, find it especially difficult detaching myself from those I once loved and who loved me in return.
(The sociopath is the exception. Like most of what I believe spiritually, the caveat is always “with the exception of sociopaths.”)
This lifetime is a short one. We meet a mere handful of people. The ones who fill my spirit with kindness, affection and bliss live inside of my heart even if they live many…
I’m so sick of you. I’m sick of thinking about you. I’m sick of missing you. I’m sick of it all. I’m sickened by the way you treated me, used me up, and discarded me. Have fun in your new life. I hate you.
I think one of the factors that made everything so confusing as a seventeen year old was that my abuser as my best friend. Growing up I had always had groups of friends, but never a best friend. It was something I yearned for as a teenage girl. When Jay and I hit it off it felt good to finally have a best friend.
Through two and a half years of divorcing a narcissist, I’ve learned to give a voice to thoughts that pop up from time to time. They usually come from nowhere but have a special kind of feel to them — like it’s my heart speaking, breaking another link in the chain that was my abusive, destructive, and toxic relationship.
Recently one such phrase rose up and has stuck in my head for a bit.
This is the end of the Mrs.
When I first got married, I struggled with changing my name. I was past my 30th Birthday and had all my degrees behind me. Every diploma and every award I’d ever gotten bore my birth name. There was a surrender – I guess – when I actually decided to change my name and drop my birth name. There was also a pride in the Mrs. I liked the way it sounded. We were a family, now, after all and in my mind families shared last names. Hyphenation was a way-out — it left room for an eventual separation (at least that’s how I saw it).
I wanted a fresh start with the family we were creating out of just us two.
Fast forward 12 years. Here comes the divorce. It would have NEVER happened except that it was essential to save my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth. I would be dead if I stayed with this person.
Anyway, again here comes the phrase that popped in my head
This is the end of the Mrs.
But I wasn’t crying and I certainly wasn’t sad at all. There was an acceptance that went with it and I decided to let the phrase dance free-form for a bit and see if anything else came with it. It didn’t feel finished.
You see, I’m actually okay with it. I remember telling my dad that I didn’t want his name anymore. I was free from the sheer hell and soul-gutting destruction that my life had became. I’m okay with my children know who I am and who I have been since my birth name was given to me by my parents. I took my spouse’s name, but it was never given to me.
So, as I am natually drawn to do, I told myself it was okay that THIS IS THE END OF THE MRS.
Then I kept thinking about why it was okay with me. And BINGO!
Why is there a Mrs. anyway?
Because there’s a Mr.
But you see, here’s where the light bulb went off…….he was no where near a “mister”, a man, a human being of the male persuasion. Narcissists can’t be. It’s not possible. I’m not saying this from a position of emasculating him – I don’t really care to go that route. I have researched, and learned all I could about his disorder and I’m confident that it’s just not possible for him to be a true human. (Side note: I’m not going to explain it in this post but if you’ve stumbled upon this blog click on the category of INFORMATION to learn more.)
So yeah, it IS the end of the MRS….. but it’s completely okay with me.
It’s okay because he wasn’t nearly a Mr.
It’s not a dig at him. It’s the honest truth because of his disorder. So I’m not nearly as sad at losing the Mrs. as I would have been 12 years ago when I was SURE divorce would never happen to me.
So I’m going back to my birth name, but not as a dig at my ex.
And it’s perfectly okay. I’m ready to reclaim the name that was given to me by my father and start anew with the old birth name and give that another 30 years and see what happens.
The Journey Through It 