victim.

I hear words regarding abuse being thrown around all the time:  victim…survivor…thriver…and I wonder which one of these is, and will be, me.

I hate the word victim.  Hate it.  Because it means to be deceived/cheated by the dishonesty of others.  Hmmmm.  Do you know what deceive means?  It’s to mislead someone with false appearances and to be unfaithful to them.  Wow.  Think about narc abuse.  What’s the hallmark of it? To have someone be who you want them to be in the beginning of the relationship.  Then, have them learn everything they can about you so they know exactly what tools to use against you when the manipulation begins.  In other words…they begin by wearing a mask.  A great mask.  One you fall in love with and want to be with.  Remember though…it’s a ‘false appearance’.  It’s not real.  As much as you want it to be, it’s not.  It may seem like the answer to your needs, dreams, and wants, but it’s only a lie.  And unfaithfulness?  Yep.  That’s in there too, and we all know that infidelity goes hand in hand with narc abuse.  What about the part about dishonesty?  Let’s call it what it is:  blatant lying meant to manipulate you into doing anything and everything your narc wants you to do. It’s a powerful word.

That’s what a victim is.  Someone who has been deceived by a person whom they are in love with…to be cheated on during that one-sided relationship…and to know they were ‘taken in’ by a falseness which was constructed especially with your insecurities, vulnerabilities, and needs in mind.  A victim.  That’s what I am right now.

Is being a survivor better?  Of course.  But only to a degree.  A survivor is someone who continues to ‘function’ in spite of hardships.  Ok.  That’s better than victim, but to function means, to me, to be a person who is only going through the motions.  Who is not yet fully healed.  They are ‘functioning’, but not necessarily living life to it’s fullest.  Functioning sounds great to me right now though, since I’m barely doing it.  But, eventually, I’m going to want more.  I want more than just getting through the day.  More than just being able to move from point a to point b.  More than doing less than what I’m capable of.  Surviving means to continue to be in existence.  To be alive.  But not necessarily living.  And we all deserve more than that.

So, how about this.  Let’s be ‘thrivers’ instead.  Let’s grow.  Let’s flourish.  Let’s meet our true potential.  Let’s take our hardships and setbacks, and learn from them…and take those lessons to create a better life for ourselves.  Isn’t that what we want?  To blossom?  To open up and move forward and succeed in our lives beyond anything we’ve ever had before?  I do.  Very much so.

I think this is a process though. I think you need to go from victim to survivor to thriver, but the process isn’t necessarily always linear.  I take steps forward, and then I’m pulled back.  I make progress and then I lose the energy to continue.  I wobble between victim and survivor, and if I had to be totally honest, I guess I still see myself as a victim most of the time.  And this is hard to admit.

I’ve been wondering why this is so.  I think it’s because to admit I’m a victim means I was deceived and cheated on by someone I truly loved.  Love.  To admit I was played the fool.  To have to say I was able to be cut down to a state where I would take what was dished out, and not question it at all.  Ouch.  Admitting that hurts.  But I am a victim.  And I need to recognize and understand that so I can start moving forward.

When will I start being a survivor?  Hmmmmm.  I guess when I can go places I still can’t go to because of the memories.  When I can go to sleep at night without crying first.  When I can get out of bed and be able to start the day without putting on my own mask of ‘ok-ness’ that allows me to function at school.  When I can watch a show we used to watch together.  When I can sit on my couch and not think of the cuddling we did on it.  When I can go to bed and not feel his arms still around me.  That’s when I’ll know I’m surviving.  And I have a strong sense this will be a hard stage to start.  And get through.

And thriving?  YES, please!  I want to get to this point so bad.  I want to be better than this.  Better than ever!!  I want to take everything Sarge did to me, and learn from it.  Grow from it.  Teach others about the dangers of narc abuse.  I want to wake up with the same smile I go to bed with.  And I know this is possible.  Because that used to be me.  A thriver!  A happy, energetic, fun woman who truly loved living her life.  And right now I’m a depressed, anxious woman who sometimes wonders how she can get through another day. I have a lot of work to do.

This is what I know:  Narcs turn you into a victim FAST. Regardless of your starting point, you will go down.  To your rock bottom.  And you won’t understand how it could happen so quickly.  All you know is you look in the mirror one day and don’t recognize the haunted face looking back at you.  And to see a stranger in your mirror is truly a scary thing.

Professor K

The Barrette

Crazy title…right??  But, let me explain.

When Sarge and I met, he said how beautiful I was (and I know he was love bombing me at the time so I doubt he was sincere at all), but he didn’t like women who had bangs.  Instead, he preferred long hair all over that could be tucked behind the ears.  Sarge is also 20 years younger than me and I always felt ‘ugly’ next to him anyway because I saw myself as looking so much older.  Knowing he didn’t like my hair was the start of my insecurity with him.

Since I wanted so badly to please him, I started growing my bangs, and as they got longer, I swooped them to the side with a barrette.  Just a simple barrette so they wouldn’t be in my eyes.  Sarge seemed to like the style, and I continued it so he’d be happy.

I also got a face-lift this summer…I mentioned it in a previous post.  I NEVER would have done this had I not been with Sarge.  He didn’t ask me to do this, but one afternoon while we were eating lunch at McDonalds. he said how his mom thought my neck looked old!  I truly had never paid any attention to my neck, but immediately, I was struck with how absolutely HORRIBLE and DISGUSTING it looked and I became extremely self-conscious about it.  So, I went to a consultation at a plastic surgeons, and he said I might as well get a small lift which would make both my face and my neck look younger.  So…while I was growing out my bangs and trying to please Sarge in that way, I also went under the knife…which by the way, put me back $7,000.  The recovery was so much more painful that I had anticipated;  having 22 staples and 22 stitches in your face isn’t fun!!

Sarge ‘left’ me a month after my face lift for an ex who he went on to cheat with.  When she left town, he was back with me, and then he left again a week later for good since she returned.  I was so upset.  I got this facelift…major surgery…and was STILL recovering, and he left me.  Just like that.  I cried for days thinking I spent the money and went through the pain for nothing.

But here’s what happened last night with my barrette.  EVERY night I think Sarge is going to knock on my door, profess his love, say (and really have it be true) that he’s miraculously changed, and that he simply can’t live without me.  Last night, as I was ‘waiting’ for that knock, I went into the bathroom and took a long look at myself.  I realized that my face does look ‘fresher’ now, and that I’M happy with it, despite the original reason for getting it.  I also decided that my long bangs were a pain.  I didn’t like them.  I didn’t want them.

And having to wear a barrette all the time wasn’t me.  So, I took the barrette out and cut them.  And I realized that I need to do what I want now.

Never again will I do such things to look a certain way for someone.  Especially someone who doesn’t support me…appreciate me…or compliment me.  Last night I did what I wanted.  And I’m happy to say that I’m satisfied with the result.  Today, here at school, I’m barrette-free and feel confident about my face.  It’s a good feeling knowing that I’m the one that’s pleased.

This is what I know:  narcissists will say things in a way that make you feel so much ‘less-than’ you’ve ever felt before.  This is purposeful, because it’s just another way to manipulate you into thinking you need to do anything to please them.  But, they are never happy.  Never thankful.  Never supportive.  Period.

Professor K

 

“It’s Like a Cancer”

Two things have happened today:

First, I  shared this blog with a colleague/friend of mine and after she read my posts, she came to my office and told me I was telling the story of her 13 year marriage.  She was married to a horrible narcissist who was ‘textbook’ in terms of everything he did to her.  She couldn’t believe how our stories were so much alike, and like me, she hadn’t heard of narcissitic abuse being a ‘real’ thing…along with Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome.  That’s actually what I was going to write about today…but now I need to express something else.

So, secondly, here’s what I’m struggling with.  Like I said in my last post, I broke no contact and texted Sarge all afternoon today.  I started being sucked back in so damn fast it was scary.  For the last couple of weeks, I’d started feeling good about myself and another friend of mine had said my eyes were losing their haunted look.  Today, it was back.  Just texting him and letting him back into my mind (and heart) was horrible.  I’ve been crying, questioning, and feeling physically sick because I was getting caught back up into the web.  I literally apologized for HIS behavior, and started taking the blame for why we weren’t together anymore.  I asked him to come back.  I told him I would work on things.  I told him I could do better for him.

Then, my best friend and I took my pup to a dog park and walking around, talking to him, and getting away from my phone helped immensely.  I just NOW blocked Sarge on my phone, and no contact is back in place as of this moment.

Why is no contact so hard and so necessary for victims of narcissistic abuse?  Because these people are master manipulators who will only say what you want to hear and will, as my friends at school say, mind-f&%k you until you have no idea who you are anymore and what’s happening to you.  My friend said it’s like a cancer in you…it’s eating you up, and the thought of cutting it out scares the hell out of you.  But that’s the only way to heal.  If you don’t get rid of it, you’ll die from it.  My spirit already feels dead…and that tells me I need to get this cancer out.

So, IT STOPS NOW.  Dammit…I’m too smart to let this happen again.  I’m too strong not to follow through.  I don’t need this man in my life, despite what my heart is saying and my brainwashed mine is repeating.  I fell in love with an abuser.  He used me.  He hurt me.  He broke me.  He manipulated me.  He cheated on me.  He with-held affection and love from me at times when I needed it the most.  He hurt my relationships with my mom and son.  NO MORE.  When I look at that list, I realize what a toxic hold he has over me, and I need to be the one to make sure that hold lessens and lessens until it’s no more.

One of my favorite movies is “Regarding Henry” with Harrison Ford and Annette Benning.  Henry, a successful lawyer,  is shot early in the film (sorry for the spoiler) and he has to relearn everything he knows.  At one point, his secretary is pouring him coffee and he’s just sitting there.  Finally, she says, “Henry, when you’ve had enough, just say ‘when’.”  So, near the end of the film, Henry is upset with the fraudulent behavior of his law firm and decides to leave it for good.  On his way out, his secretary asks him what’s going on and Henry says, “I’m just saying ‘when’.”

So Sarge, it’s finally time.  And I’m thinking this time will be the last time.  “WHEN”.

This is what I know:  maintaining no contact is so much harder than people who’ve never experienced this type of abuse can imagine.  We’ve been manipulated to the point where we feel our only worth comes from this person.  Until we cut this person out of our life, we’ll never have ourselves back.  But that cutting hurts.  Bad.

Professor K

I Didn’t Know What it Was

Until about 2 weeks ago, I had never heard of Narcissistic Abuse.  This is odd, because I’m a professor of psych and sociology and even teach classes on Domestic Violence.

Last winter, I got into a relationship with a man, “Sarge”, who was absolutely perfect for me!  I was going through a divorce, and to have this good looking, younger man want me validated my worth amongst the self-defeating feelings the divorce was causing me.  It was as if he were custom made for me.  He was funny, smart, charming, and the attention he paid me and the compliments he showered upon me caused me to fall for him.  Hard.  My ex-husband and I hadn’t lived together as man and wife for a couple of years, and I was longing for intimacy and closeness.  The first time Sarge hugged me, I wrapped myself around him and thought that I would never let him go.  The first time he spent the night with me, we slept entwined around one another, and I truly believed I had found my soulmate.

This should be the end of the story.  You know, the line following ‘soulmate’ should be that they lived happily ever after.  Because that’s what I wanted.  And that’s what he led me to believe he wanted.  And I thought it was going to happen…at least for the first couple of months this was the anticipated course our relationship would take.

But things started to change.  He would become critical of me at times…rude…behave arrogantly…act as if everything I did was wrong, and everything he did was right.  He would ‘move in’, say we were forever partners, and then move out 2 weeks later saying he didn’t love me anymore.  On 2 of those move-outs (and yes, there were more), he cheated on me with an old girlfriend.  Multiple times.  And I took him back.  After the first time.  And after the second time.  And after every time.  Because I was starting to believe that there was something wrong with me.  Why couldn’t I hold on to this man who had been so perfect for me at one time.  Surely it was my fault he was pulling away.  Cheating on me.  Lying about the cheating until I found out about it via a relative.

And there was more.  Always more.  He choked me one time…and I don’t know where it would have ended if his young son hadn’t come into the room and asked what was going on.  He pulled on my hair and twisted my neck.  He called me names I’m too ashamed to even type.  And he made me feel as if I were nothing.  Nothing at all.  I lost myself.  I lost my heart.  My spirit.  My confidence.  My fun.  My soul.  And he had it.  Right in the palm of his hand.  When I look back, I can’t believe what I allowed myself to take.  To forgive.  To withstand.  I was gone.  A shell was in my place.

Then my 23 year old nephew was killed, and I was devastated.  My son and nephew were raised together on the same property…he was like another son to me and told me on occasion that he thought of me as another mom.  On the day I found out he died, Sarge left me.  He said my nephew didn’t mean anything to him.  Why should he care?  He had seen many men die during Middle East deployments, so what was the big deal?

I was stunned.  Truly stunned.  And that night, when he left, I decided that it needed to be for good.

I’m an academic, so immediately I started reading about healing from abusive relationships and came across information on narcissistic abuse.  As I studied article after article, and then book after book, I felt the authors of these were literally in my head, writing everything that had happened to me verbatim.  It was scary how Sarge fit the profile for a narcissist and how I fit the profile for an empath.  In other words, it was a dangerous combination from the start.

So where am I now?  Eleven days of no contact and trying my best to understand what happened to me.  After this, I’m hoping to find my old self among the rubble.

This is what I know:  narcissists exist and they will hurt you, use you, manipulate you, blame you, gaslight you, triangulate you with another, break you financially, and then make it all your fault.  It’s a hard thing to learn, that such evil exists.  And it’s a hard thing to reconcile that I found it.

Professor K