I was not the first one to see behind the narcissist’s mask, and I will not be the last. Others recognized him for who he was long before I came on the scene. Of the narcissist’s former flames and friends, I was only told the most awful things and, of course, that he was an innocent victim.
At first, when I attempted to escape the narcissist, his family and friends appeared to stand by him and claimed ignorance of any wrongdoing. After some time passed, they finally sought some version of the truth.
The craziest thing about the narcissist’s relentless pursuit of adoration is that everyone already knows the truth. Even the new girlfriend who lives with him right now knows there is something wrong – she just hasn’t hit her breaking point yet. When she moves on, he will simply find another one to continue the cycle.
A worn-out welcome is just another stepping stone in his trail of destruction in an attempt to claim something he can never have – authenticity.
I must admit my relief at discovering the narcissist 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 this poor woman. 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 the new girlfriend than me, right?
Well, that was until I learned she moved in with him and brought along her young son. I spent many hours worrying about this child, and I considered contacting the new girlfriend to give a fair warning about the narcissist. I stopped myself because I understand where she is in the relationship. Like me, no one can penetrate his control until they ready for a change.
I can only hope she figures it out faster than I did and gets out before it’s too late. I can’t help the new girlfriend now, and my meddling would just bring more chaos into her life and that of her son.
If I could say something to her, I’d say, “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 the narcissist insisted on lying about things that didn’t matter. Our first baby was due the day before his paternal grandfather’s birthday, but the narc insisted we tell everyone the due date was on the same day.
Our baby was born the day after his falsified”due date,” and the narc was disgusted with me. You see, it was my fault because I asked for pain medications during labor. If I’d stuck with his natural childbirth preferences, everything would have worked out according to his plan. I ruined everything.
Once, while we were standing in the checkout line at Wal-mart, the narcissist answered the phone claiming to be a doctor. At this point, he was still completing his master’s degree. When I asked why he called himself a doctor, he just hung up the phone and refused to talk to me.
Flash forward ten years later and an online doctorate (not medical) 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 doctorate degree gives him no more money or authority in his field. In fact, anyone who takes a training seminar for a few hours qualified to do his job. It’s no different than buying a vacuum from a Doctor of suction or a used car from a Doctor of sales.
His whole world is fragile and held up on falsities that a tiny nugget of truth could quickly destroy. That title is everything and nothing at the same time. The narcissist is blameless, an unfortunate helpless victim of everyone but himself.
The Death Stare is the look in his eyes when you can see straight into his dark soul. I don’t remember when he started doing it to me, but I remember seeing it whenever I was about to say or do something that would give a glimpse of his true nature to others. The Death Stare was a familiar look during our marriage and during the divorce, even when we were in court. He knew precisely when to give it to me so the lawyers and judge could not see. It sent a chill down my spine every time, and I learned to keep my eyes focused on the floor, only looking up when the judge addressed me directly.
The most disturbing and devastating thing about the Death Stare is hearing the children talk about it. They, too, were on the receiving end of this chilling look, and they are the ones who gave it a name.
Once the Good Doctor was unmasked, he showed his true self in all his rage and fury. Still able to wear the mask in public, he pretended to be the homeless, impoverished victim while making me out to be the villain. I wasn’t the only one who saw you with the mask off, and the others remember who you are. The gig is up, yet you still pretend to be the Good Doctor.