It started innocently enough with a plea to report my whereabouts to keep you from worrying about me because you cared so much. It progressed to protecting me from anyone who may wish to cause harm which included my family. It grew to encompass jealousy of my friends and an intense suspicion of constant infidelity. It escalated to crush any dream of mine that was not intended to glorify you. The final push was to destroy every trace of my dignity by devouring the souls of my children.
I could sacrifice myself because by that point I believed there was nothing left of me but I refused to surrender my children. They had no choice in the matter, no options and the only hope for them was me. It ended with me rising up to claim myself again, for the sake of my children.
We all know how it ended regardless of the fantasy you created to appease yourself and those you currently manipulate. We are healing and are stronger than you can imagine. We will prevail and live in the light, but you will always hide in the shadows of your lies.
I must admit my relief at discovering my ex found a new girlfriend. This meant all the energy he focused on me was now directed at someone else. There was some guilt in my feeling of relief because I know what he’s doing to her. He’s building her up so high she must believe the man of her dreams has finally arrived and they will live happily ever after. Soon enough though, he will start chipping away at her to eventually dominate every move. Better her than me, right? Well, that was until I learned she moved in with him and brought along her young son. Many hours were spent worrying about this child, and I considered contacting her to give a fair warning about the future. Unfortunately, I understand where she is at, and no one can penetrate his control until she is ready to hear it. I can only hope she figures it out faster than I did and gets out. I can’t help her now, and my meddling would just bring more chaos into her life and that of her son. Wake up, honey. Wake up quick. He has perfected his art, and his mask is almost magical. It will come off, and the truth behind it will devastate much more than you could ever know.
I didn’t understand it in the beginning, why my ex insisted on lying about things that didn’t matter. Our first baby was due the day before his dad’s birthday, but he insisted we tell everyone the due date was on the same day. In the end, our son was born the day after his dad’s birthday, and my ex was sorely disappointed in me. You see, it was my fault because I asked for pain meds during labor. If I’d stuck with his natural childbirth preferences, everything would have worked out according to his plan. I ruined everything.
I caught him once, answering the phone and claiming to be a doctor. At this point, he was still completing his Masters. When I asked why he did that he just hung up the phone and refused to talk to me. Flash forward ten years later and an online doctorate degree in hand, his whole identity was held in the title of doctor. He is now living with someone who has a young child, and even this poor lad is instructed to address him as “Doctor.” His online degree gives him no more authority than to dispense medical devices over the counter that anyone who takes a training seminar for a few hours is also qualified to do. It’s like buying a vacuum from a doctor of suction. His whole world is fragile and held up on falsities that a tiny nugget of truth could destroy. Good day, Good Doctor.
A lesson learned most painfully is often the most effective. I allowed myself to become desperately ill to take care of everyone and everything else. In the end, I was unable to do anything. Once I started caring for myself, I was able to care for others again.
The narcissist spends incalculable hours bragging about his genius and the cesspool of stupidity in which the rest of us exist. He once explained to me that if he told himself something enough times, it would become true. I can still picture him sitting there telling himself he is a genius, an innocent victim, and an excellent father, but that doesn’t make it true. Sucks for who?
How I long to forget all the painful and traumatic experiences. In truth, it really is all in my head, filed away in excruciating detail waiting for the perfect trigger to bring it all flooding back. Getting over it is a beautiful dream I work towards every day. Do you honestly think I haven’t already told myself to get over it thousands of times? If it were that simple, don’t you think I would have done it long before now? If only my brain came with a delete button, I could slip into blissful amnesia.