Let me be clear

There has been no questioning or prompting from outside sources, but I've been thinking that I needed to explain my writing a bit.

If you look back over the history of my blog, my writing peaks in times of sadness, and hardship. Heartbreak, in particular, seems to be my muse. It is when I am most open, in tune, and the words are immediate. They are raw. When I'm not struggling with something, I don't have much to write about. 

I've never kept a blog that is just day-to-day humdrum. That's not what this outlet is for me here. This is my heart-on-my-sleeve, pour-it-all-out, cathartic, therapeutic, artistic outlet for words. I have always said how much I love words. I love putting my feelings into form on the page. 

I like my writing, I take pride in my writing. I love the connection it gives me to others, when I hear feedback that I am speaking for / to them. 

But what I want to make clear, is that I put into words fleeting feelings. All feelings are temporary. My writing is poetic. It is not always literal. 

What I mean is, I am not living in sadness 100% of the time. I have moments of great happiness and excitement through the day, on any given day. I am finding as I get older, my natural state is optimism. I can't be held down for too long, without naturally bouncing back. Even when it means loosing the muse. 

I am not literally waiting for the one who broke my heart to bound back through the door, making our family whole again. Like any human, on occasion, I miss the good times. I do not miss the bad. I would not accept the bad again.

I am working through feelings when the flashes of hurt hit, and it feels so good to get them out here. I love the art of it, that the simplest flash sometimes spins into the best blog. I love the writings, and the musings that come. I love that they are coming, and that I feel connected to myself so deeply these days. Emotionally, and artistically. 

I hope that makes sense, and I hope all keep that in mind as you wander through my life here. 

***********

These days, I'm thinking a lot about the reset button. When you've lost everything, you have nothing to lose. I am redefining. Questioning what boundaries mean to me, in all aspects of my life, and consciously trying to set them where they haven't been, or where they need adjustments. I am looking deeply inward, asking myself what is comfortable to me. Where I can breathe easy, or not. Where I feel safe, and peaceful. What perimeters I can live with, or without. What I need in the space I exist in. What I look for in a partner, and in friends. What I need to continue to mother my child in the way I know is best for him, and for me. I am learning that the reset button is not the monster I thought it was. Not even a little bit. I continually feel myself expanding, attracting, ready to accept all my new adventures that are presenting themselves. I feel myself shedding the skin of my old life more each day. I just may not have much to write about soon...

*

*

*

August blurbs

A couple of musings from August 16th, the anniversary that wasn't.

one

In 2012, I shattered, entire. As I built myself back over a summer, fall, and winter, I was never more open. The omens were everywhere, and that's when I learned the universe is tailored just for me, as it is for you. 

Relatives who had passed on came to visit me in animal form. The animals were everywhere. There were notes scrawled on the sidewalks, and the walls. I had visions of the child I would one day mother. I had dreams where I traveled from this plane, I saw heaven. 

Never again, have I experienced that kind of connection to the universe. Never again, have I been that earthed.

Maybe I didn't need it. Until now. "I could sure use an omen or two", I've been whispering to the cosmos. 

But I know it requires just as much effort on my part. 

I must not be cloudy. 

I must pay attention. 

I must know it when I see it. 

The visit from my ancestors yesterday was one. 

When you left me, I experienced a dream like those from five years ago. This time it was to be embraced by a real, and equal love. How different.

Today's omen came in the reminder that there are no coincidences, and time is magical.

A chance conversation with a stranger to give me all the right reminders, and to send me on my way...okay. 

two

What I would say to you today, if I could?

Today, I sat where we sat every year. I had to go to our spot, because where else would I go? Buried deep, or not so deep at all, was my hope to see you. To see you had taken the day off. To be here. 

"Your last name is Wride?" Surely someone would say. "How funny, there is a man here with that same last name!"

I wanted to write you. "Please, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love, give me a moment off the record. Please, if there is any part of you, I don't care how small, who doubts this...meet me tonight. If somewhere in there, past ego, past pride, you feel you don't want this, this emotional, financial, mental, devastation of us, meet me. Meet me in the lobby of our spot. 6 pm. The time we said our vows three years ago today. I'll be waiting for you with a glass of champagne. And if you choose not to, please don't use this against me. Please disregard this, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love."

In my minds eye, he he comes. He walks in, wearing his suit. He doesn't want our destruction. He wants to come home. "Yes," I say. But I approach delicately. I ask we just try for a day, or a weekend. It's so fragile. 

And that's where it stops. I can't see further. And I know I am not allowed to ask this of him, although this is my biggest wish. 

Come home, my heart says. Come home. 

*

*

*

Happy Anniversary

Tomorrow is our anniversary. Three years since the most beautiful day of my life. My beautiful husband cried beautiful tears and spoke beautiful words he'd written, promising to love me forever. There are certain lines that still play in my head.

Today, I am sad. I am on day three of sad. After feeling pretty good for awhile, I'm experiencing a small setback. I am still so confused. I don't understand how one minute a family vacation is being booked, we are talking of purchasing burial plots, I am suddenly told I must have another baby or our relationship is over, then six days later, it's really done.

I told you on the spot I would do anything for you. Yes to anything, yes to everything. You tricked me. Did you mean to? I spent six days agonizing. Searching myself to see how quickly I could have another baby. At my deepest interior I found I could. I caught myself up, up to the immediate yes I gave you. Here I am. Our son is 17 months tomorrow. My hormones have settled. The haze has cleared. I am ready for our baby and my option is gone.

I may never be able to have another baby again, and you took it all away from me. 

So here I am. Sad, today. 

"I still feel like he is my husband, I still feel like I belong to him", I say out loud. I am certain if I try hard enough, I can wish it back into existence. He will reach out. He'll say it's gone too far. He'll be ready to put in the work. To apologize for ever scaring me, calling me names. The weight of this is just too much, today. 

I don't want to go it alone. I don't want to lose my life. My home. My family. I can't see into the future, and that's so, so scary. 

I am outside with my mom, and son. I am swirling inside with my thoughts and my should-haves and can't-haves. I am imagining various timelines for myself. I let myself linger in the one where I am still married to my love. Where we wake up in the same place. Where he comes home after work. Where I am pregnant. Where my time goes to raising my babies. Its a cozy, small life. The small life.

Right then, a breeze blows, and I feel the energy of my female ancestors pass through me. For a moment, I am frozen, chills run though my body. I feel the size and shape of my physical self, the space I take up, and I am more deeply rooted in my being than I have been in months. I am momentarily statuesque. "I can feel my armor", is what comes into my head. I let myself wear it in that moment, it all happens so fast, and I hear them whisper to me loud and clear, "oh no, you are not meant for small. There is big out there. There is big for you." And just like that, they are gone...

*

*

*

*

*

What it means when a Narcissist says I love you

What it means when a narcissist says I love you
By Athena Staik, Ph.D

Copied and pasted in it's entirety below (original link here)
I've put in bold and labeled with an * the most personally impactful parts. 




Dear Codependent Partner,

What I’m about to say is not something I’d ever say or admit (to you), because to do so would end the winner-takes-all-game that is my main source of pleasure in life — one that effectively keeps you carrying my load in our relationship. 

And that’s the whole point.

When I say “I love you” I mean that I love how hard you work to make me feel like your everything, that I am the focus of your life, that you want me to be happy, and that I’ll never be expected to do the same.

I love the power I have to take advantage of your kindness and intentions to be nice, and the pleasure I derive when I make myself feel huge in comparison to you, taking every opportunity to make you feel small and insignificant.

I love the feeling it gives me thinking of you as weak, vulnerable, emotionally fluffy, and I love looking down on you for your childlike innocence and gullibility, as weakness.

I love the way I feel knowing that, through the use of gaslighting, what you want to discuss or address will never happen, and I love this “power” to train you to feel “crazy” for even asking or bringing up issues that don’t interest me, effectively, ever lowering your expectations of me and what I’m capable of giving you, while I up mine of you.

I love how easy it is to keep your sole focus on alleviating my pain (never yours!), and that, regardless what you do, you’ll never make me feel good enough, loved enough, respected enough, appreciated enough, and so on. (Misery loves company.)

(It’s not about the closeness, empathy, emotional connection you want, or what I did that hurt or embarrassed you, or how little time I spend engaged with you or the children, and so on. It’s about my status and doing my job to keep you in your place, in pain, focused on feeling my pain, blocking you from feeling valued in relation to me. I’m superior and entitled to all the pleasure, admiration, and comforting between us, remember?)

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when you are with me, more specifically, regarding you as a piece of property I own, my possession. Like driving a hot car, I love the extent to which you enhance my status in the eyes of others, letting them know that I’m top dog, and so on. I love thinking others are jealous of my possessions.

I love the power I have to keep you working hard to prove your love and devotion, wondering what else you need to do to “prove” your loyalty.

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when I’m with you. Due to how often I hate and look down on others in general, the mirror neurons in my brain keep me constantly experiencing feelings of self-loathing; thus, I love that I can love myself through you, and also love hating you for my “neediness” of having to rely on you or anyone for anything.

I love that you are there to blame whenever I feel this “neediness”; feeling scorn for you seems to protect me from something I hate to admit, that I feel totally dependent on you to “feed” my sense of superiority and entitlement, and to keep my illusion of power alive in my mind.

(Nothing makes me feel more fragile and vulnerable than not having control over something that would tarnish my image and superior status, such as when you question “how” I treat you, as if you still don’t understand that getting you to accept yourself as an object for my pleasure, happy regardless of how I treat you, or the children  — is key proof of my superiority, to the world. You’re my possession, remember? It’s my job to teach you to hate and act calloused toward those “crazy” things that only “weak” people need, such as “closeness” and “emotional stuff;” and by the way, I know this “works” because my childhood taught me to do this to myself inside.)

It makes me light up with pleasure (more proof of my superiority) that I can easily get you flustered, make you act “crazy” over not getting what you want from me, make you repeat yourself, and say and do things that you’ll later hate yourself for (because of your “niceness”!). Everything you say, any hurts or complaints you share, you can be sure, I’ll taunt you with later, to keep you ever-spinning your wheels, ever trying to explain yourself, ever doubting yourself and confused, trying to figure out why I don’t “get” it.

(There’s nothing to get! To break the code, you’d have to look through my lens, not yours! It’s my job to show complete disinterest in your emotional needs, hurts, wants, and to train, dismiss and punish accordingly, until you learn your “lesson,” that is: To take your place as a voiceless object, a possession has no desire except to serve my pleasure and comfort, and never an opinion on how it’s treated!)

(That you can’t figure this out, after all the ways I’ve mistreated you, to me, is proof of my genetic superiority. In my playbook, those with superior genes are never kind, except to lure and snare their victims!)

I love that I can make you feel insecure at the drop of a hat, especially by giving attention to other women (perhaps also others in general, friends, family members, children, etc. … the list is endless). What power this gives me to put a display of what you don’t get from me, to taunt and make you beg for what I easily give to others, wondering why it’s so easy to give what you want to others, to express feelings or affection, to give compliments, that is, when it serves my pleasure (in this case, to watch you squirm).

***I love the power I have to get you back whenever you threaten to leave, by throwing a few crumbs your way, and watching how quickly I can talk you into trusting me when I turn on the charm, deceiving you into thinking, this time, I’ll change.

"I love you” means I need you because, due to the self-loathing I carry inside, I need someone who won’t abandon me that I can use as a punching bag, to make myself feel good by making them feel bad about themselves. (This is how I pleasure myself, and the way I numb, deny the scary feelings I carry inside that I hope to never admit, ever. I hate any signs of weakness in me, which is why I hate you, and all the “nice” weaklings I view as inferior, stupid, feeble, and so on.)

“I love you” means that I love fixing and shaping your thoughts and beliefs, being in control of your mind, so that you think of me as your miracle and savior, a source of life and sustenance you depend on, and bouncing back to, like gravity, no matter how high you try to fly away or jump.

I love that this makes me feel like a god, to keep you so focused (obsessed…) with making me feel worshiped and adored, sacrificing everything for me to prove yourself so that I don’t condemn or disapprove of you, seeking to please none other, and inherently, with sole rights to administer rewards and punishments as I please.

I love how I can use my power to keep you down, doubting and second-guessing yourself, questioning your sanity, obsessed with explaining yourself to me (and others), professing your loyalty, wondering what’s wrong with you (instead of realizing that … you cannot make someone “happy” who derives their sense of power and pleasure from feeling scorn for the weaklings who let me take advantage of them … like you!).

“I love you” means I love the way I feel when I see myself through your admiring eyes, that you’re my feel-good drug, my dedicated audience, my biggest fan and admirer, and so on. Training you to look up to me, never question me, and bow down with pleasure to serve me as your never-erring, omniscient, omnipotent source of knowledge is my end-goal — my drug of choice.

(You may have noticed how touchy I am at any sign that you would question me; I hate how fragile I feel in such moments,  worried that failing to train you in silent submission could tarnish my image in the world, something I care about more than anything else, even life itself!)

And I love that, no matter how hard you beg and plead for my love and admiration, to feel valued in return, it won’t happen, as long as I’m in control. Why would I let it, when I’m hooked on deriving pleasure from depriving you of anything that would make you feel worthwhile, be wind beneath your wings, risking you’d fly away from me? Besides, it gives me great pleasure to not give you what you yearn for, the tenderness you need and want, and to burst your every dream and bubble, then telling myself, “I’m no fool.”

***I love that I can control your attempts to get “through” to me, by controlling your mind, in particular, by shifting the focus of any “discussion” onto what is wrong with you, your failure to appreciate and make me feel loved, good enough, etc. — and of course, reminding you of all I’ve done for you, and how ungrateful you are.

I love how skillfully I manipulate others’ opinions of you as well, getting them to side with me as the “good” guy, and side against you as the “bad” guy, portraying you as incapable of making me happy or manly — or as needy, never satisfied, always complaining, selfish and controlling, and the like.***

I love how easy it is for me to say “No!” to what may give you credit, or increase your sense of value and significance in relation to me, with endless excuses; and that instead, I return your focus to my unfulfilled needs and wants, my discomforts or pain.

I love feeling that I own your thoughts, your ambitions, and ensuring the only wants and needs you focus on are ones that serve my pleasure and comfort.

***I love being a drug of choice you “have to” have, regardless of how I mistreat you, despite all the signs that your addiction to me is draining the energy from your life, and that you are at risk of losing more and more of what you most value and hold dear, to include those you love and love and support you in return.

I love that I can isolate you from others who may nourish you, and break the spell of thinking they ever loved you; I love making you mistrust them, so that you conclude no one else really wants to put up with you, but me.

I love that I can make you feel I’m doing you a favor by being with you and throwing a few crumbs your way. Like a vacuum, the emptiness inside me is in constant need of sucking the life and breath and vitality you, and your determination to be kind, brings to my life, which I crave like a drug that can never satisfy, that I fight to hoard, and hate the thought of sharing.

While I hate you and my addiction to your caring attention, my neediness keeps me craving to see myself through your caring eyes, ever ready to admire, adore, forgive, make excuses for me, and fall for my lies and traps. (I could never appreciate or value you for this, how could I? I hate myself for needing these caring, yet unmanly gestures, which disgust me.)

***I love that you keep telling me how much I hurt you, not knowing that, to me, this is like a free marketing report. It lets me know how effective my tactics have been to keep you in pain, focused on alleviating my pain — so that I am ever the winner in this competition — ensuring that you never weaken (control) me with your love- and emotional-closeness stuff.

In short, when I say “I love you,” I love the power I have to remain a mystery that you’ll never solve because of what you do not know (and refuse to believe), that: the only one who can win this zero-sum-winner-takes-all game is the one who knows “the rules.” My sense of power rests on ensuring you never succeed at persuading me to join you in creating a mutually-kind relationship because, in my worldview, being vulnerable, emotionally expressive, kind, caring, empathetic, innocent are signs of weakness, proof of inferiority.

Thanks, but no thanks, I’m resolved to stay on my winner-takes-all ground, ever in competition for the prize, seeing you as my fiercest competitor, gloating in my narcissistic ability to be heartless, callous, cold, calculating … and proud, to ensure my neediness for a sense of superiority isn’t hampered.


Forever love-limiting,

Your narcissist



PS: I really, really need help — but you CANNOT do this work for me (not without making things worse for both of us!).  Remember, we’re co-addicted to each other, so we’d never go to an addict to get help, right?

Only a therapist, with experience in this, stands a chance, and even then, only if I choose to really, really, really let him/her! (That’s because I’d have to face my greatest fear that, not only am I not superior to those I regard as inferior, and thus not entitled to make and break rules as I please, but I’d also have to own — that my own actions, thoughts and beliefs about myself and others — are THE main cause of the suffering in my life … and changing them, THE solution. I could not would not ever want to do this for the sole reason that, from my worldview, only the feeble-minded and weak do such things! Death is better, than losing.)



* 
*
*
*

Two months later.

Two months to the day.

I'm in a new dimension. The spell was broken. You look completely different to me now. Each interaction these days dispels the beautiful myth I'd built around you more.Truth chiseled away the clouded lens I used to view you through. 

For six years I could not see. 

Two months ago I thought I'd die of a broken heart. The pieces would shatter, and I'd surely choke on one. That would be the end of me. I was drowning, sure you'd ended me. 

What a surprise, it didn't take as long as I'd anticipated to discover my heart was in fact, whole. Beating and toughened. 

Even bigger than before. 

I'm simply exhausted, you see. You did exhaust me, I'll give you that. Six years is a long time to try to get someone's love. Six years is a long time to lose, or be on the verge of losing, someone again, and again. Six years is a long time to love someone who has one foot in, and one foot out. 

I was more ready than I knew, to be done. I could resist no more. I let you out of my heart. With your release, I got my life back, my love for life back. My energy has returned. The energy I was giving to the ghost all this time.

The ghost had always made it clear how easy it would be to leave. How his limits were far more easily reached than mine would ever be. The ghost, whom I no longer love. I no longer love him, like those who came before me. I no longer love the ghost, who demonstrated so many times, the ability to cut off, shut out, leave. I couldn't see it before. The trail of the ghosting. What other outcome would there have ever been?

You weren't ready.

Ready to stay.

Ready to love.

Ready to be loved.

Once you were the end all be all, king of my world. 

There is no more pedestal. 

There is no more forcing my love.

Giving up the ghost turned me right side-up. 

I can't throw a stone without hitting a cute boy. They're everywhere. There wasn't just you. A lesson I'm finally excited to have learned. Now I've got my armor; knowledge. Now I can see. Next time, I won't be an "escape". I won't be your easy out. I won't be an item on a check-list. I won't rush. To be with, commit to, give myself, entire. Next time, I'll choose wisely. And choose, I will...eventually. 

For you see, there are things I haven't yet experienced that I now, one day, look forward to, from the one(s) who are ready. Ready to love, to be loved. Ready to accept. Their faults, my faults, and ready to stay, entire.

Turning a corner

If you've followed my blog, you know that 2012 was a dark time for me. The losses I experienced were great. I wrote about my grief a lot. I experienced the death of a loved one for the first time with the passing of my uncle, Chuck. Six months later, my grandpa passed. I wrote about this often. I also talked here and there about another loss, and I'm not sure how transparent I was about it. Five years later, I can tell you it was heartbreak. Yes, I was in a relationship. And yes, it was someone outside of that relationship who broke my heart. I'd never experienced that level of heartbreak, until this year.

And wouldn't you know it, it was by the same person.

I remember as 2012 came to a close, I made a decision to move forward, and be happy. To keep busy, to try new things, to take risks, to expand my world. And I did. I allowed, or forced, or tricked, or succumbed to a new happiness and acceptance. 

Getting out of the darkness this time hasn't been as easy, because I have an added layer. A consuming, living, breathing layer, called motherhood. My boy comes first, I am an afterthought. This naturally happens with motherhood. An example is this; a few months ago my boy and I were driving home from swimming lessons. We were stopped at a red light. When the light turned green, I began to go, and noticed the car to my left wasn't going. As I got further into the intersection, I realized why. They could see what I could not. Coming across the intersection from the left, was a car running a red light. I was able to break in time as the car flew through. The thought that quickly flashed through my head, was that if I was going to be killed, how would anyone know there was a baby in the back? How would I make sure someone got him out? Never mind the fact that I'd be dead. 

I have my baby, and I want to spend my time with my baby, soaking up my experience of motherhood and being the best mother I can to my sweet son. I can't just run out and start new hobbies, or immerse myself in theatre. Yet. I can't distract myself. I can't have a clean break from the one who caused my heart to break. 

So how would I begin to heal? Time. Just as before, time. And in time comes moments. Specific moments. Waking up one day feeling...different. Ready to live. It's been nearly two months to the day of darkness. And I can't live in the dark anymore. I can't live in it like I did five years ago, and I can't live in it like I did for the last two months.

I feel myself coming back into being. I feel more like me than I have in a long, long time. 

There must come a time when things being to click. The switch flips and one evening you look him dead in the eyes and realize that you are no longer in love. There is no love left. Sure, maybe a wish of what you thought you had, but you never had it. 

You realize you've been chasing a ghost for the better part of five years. 

And that's long enough.
And it's time to let it go.
Give up the ghost.
I release you.
I release me. 

And it's okay. 

And you are okay. 

And now you may start. 

You can go now.

Go.

*

*

*

Narcissistic Personality Disorder w/expert Randi Fine.

Transcribed from a podcast I had to listen to three times. I couldn't believe my ears. When I learn, when things I experienced are explained, defined, given a name, I feel that maybe, just maybe in time I'll heal. With the help of my therapist, and my own research, I have to believe I will heal.


Beyond the Basics Health Academy  with guest Randi Fine


** Narcissistic Personality Disorder **


NPD is a mental illness. These people are not psychotic. They look, walk, talk, and act like us. That's how they rope people in and destroy their lives.

When you're dealing with a person with this disorder, you're not dealing with the true person, you're dealing with the false self that they've created. The false self is showing a different mask to the world that is not truly representative of who they are inside. Inside they are self-loading and envious and they hate life, they hate everything about themselves. And so everybody who has what they wish they had is enviable in their minds...

...that's what throws people. They think that the person has extraordinarily high self esteem, and really does have self love which they seem to have, but they really don't.

(The narcissist) their entire life is about admiration, attention, adoration from others and they have an empty well that is never satiated or filled. So they need it constantly.

Q: What kid of things do you see with individuals that have been in relationships of any kind with somebody with NPD?
A: Complete destruction of individuality, self-esteem, great depression, hopelessness, despair, every kind of negative thing you could imagine. They come out of these relationships not at all the same person they are as when they went in. The manipulative tactics that are used on the victims are so insidious that the victim doesn't realize what's being used on them. They use tactics called gas lighting and projection, brainwashing, and psychological warfare. They completely turn their victims mind around so the person no longer knows who they are, they do not trust their instincts, nor do they trust their ability to live independently.

Gaslighting. When a victim is gaslighted they're told what they see they didn't see, what they hear they didn't hear, what they were told they were not told. They'll be told the narcissist never said what they said. What they've experienced never happened.

Projection. They will tell the other person exactly what they know to be true of themselves. They'll say you are a user, you are a manipulator, you only want things for you, you don't care about anyone else. And they constantly project this onto the other person, which makes the other person crazy, because the victim generally is a very kind, over-understanding, super-understating individual who would give anything to have this narcissist be nice to them. So when this stuff is projected onto them it makes them feel crazy, because it is so not true. And then they begin to wonder after while, well, maybe I do want too much. When the only things that they're actually asking for are having their basic, very basic needs met, which the narcissist refuses to do.

In the romantic relationship, in the beginning, the narcissist does what's called love-bombing. And they are the absolute most perfect partner. They are everything that the other person has looked for in a human being to partner with. It's also called the honey moon phase. They get to know this person inside and out, the phish for all their weak areas, and all the things they want in life, and then they morph into this perfect partner. The victim has no idea what is happening to them because they are on such a love high. They can't even believe that they found this person. The minute the union is secured; they move in, they get married, as soon as the narcissist knows that they've got that person, at that very second, it all changes. So the victim keeps trying to get back that person. "I know he/she is in there, I saw it. We had that love, we had that perfect love. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get it back." And so the more they try to get it back, the more abused they are and it keeps spiraling downward. And they still can't understand that the person they thought they were in love with was a total fake. That person never existed.

Q: Is it possible for a person with NPD to change?
No, unfortunately not. The narcissist never changes. The narcissist has no ability to be introspective. The narcissist doesn't care about anyone. The narcissist doesn't love anyone. It's all about gaining what's called narcissistic supply. They are this empty person inside who does not have any ability to be happy. They don't have any ability to love or empathize. They need so much and they need it constantly and as soon as you finish giving them what they need, they're empty again. What they do with their victims is they capture them, and they keep them hostage through emotional abuse, so that they have these victims to continue to feed off of. Once that person is no longer supplying them, that person means absolutely nothing. So you could have had a 35, 50 year old marriage with this person. The minute you stop feeding them, it's as if you never existed. It's very tragic. And it's very hard for those who have been victimized this way to comprehend that the love they thought they had never, ever existed.

Q: Is the plan to get out of the relationship?
Even though they feel like they've got to get out of there, they're terrified of leaving. They're terrified of being on their own. They still believe they're tremendously in love, and they still believe there's a chance that this could work. Because of what's been done to their brains, they don't have the ability to think this clearly. They may get away, but in their heart they're still addicted to this narcissist.

With the littlest thing the victim is back. In their heart, they just want that person to love them. Any inkling of something that resembles attention or love and they're right back.

When people who have been victimized this way figure out what's wrong, it's imparitive that they get help with it.

It's not commonly known in our society that emotional abuse can be worse than physical abuse. With this kind of abuse, the problem is that it's intangible. With physical abuse, you can see what happened to you and your brain has a chance to recognize it and accept it. With emotional abuse theres no way for the brain to wrap itself around this kind of thing because a non-personality disordered person doesn't think the way a narcissist thinks, but they think narcissist does think like they do, and they continually try to apply logic to an illogical situation and it makes them feel crazy. They can't figure it out.

***What NPD does to children***

It absolutely destroys children. They don't have children to love children, and to see them grow and become individuals, they have children to grow their own supply. That's all it is. They don't have the capacity to love children.

The parent use things like narcissistic rage, which if you see someone in a rage like this it's among the most terrifying faces you will ever see. They use these tactics so children are afraid to go up against their parents.

*
*
*