Understanding alone is not freedom

I’d say just before Christmas is when the penny really dropped. What exactly was that madness that lasted sixteen years?  A relationship I couldn’t get out of no matter what I tried?  A relationship I knew was bad news from very early on?  Why was there always drama drama and more drama? What was going on?

Somehow going through relationship advice websites it just clicked. Unmistakably this was exactly what was going on!  I couldn’t believe it but there it was in black and white,  a precise and definitive description of all the craziness!  His craziness my craziness our craziness the craziness of every day existence described so clearly.

And I thought I was alone,  so loathsome and stupid that this was the kind of life,  bad unworthy worms like myself got. But I’m not alone. I thought I was crazy but when he was gone all the crazy making went away and life was simple and sweet. People were kinder, life was more fun,  I knew I had had a bad life with him and a very bad relationship,  but how could things improve so much?

Because he was a narcissist and a nasty one.  He did not love us, his son and I. And that awful dissonance in my mind and heart every day regarding How?  How could some one who loves you treat you and his son that way was finally answered?

He didn’t love us!

He only loved himself.

But he hated himself and he did hate us.

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A new beginning


Second of January 2015 and I’ve been crying again.  I’ve learned the truth now.

I’m a survivor of narcissistic abuse.

The shock of making that realisation is still knocking me about.  A few days before Christmas, browsing around online, it just happened ! I can’t recall exactly now but somehow I found my way to the sites of survivors of narcissistic abuse and for the first time in this mess I have called a life, I got answers, explanations, sense being made at last.

It really wasn’t me.  I wasn’t crazy. I’m not crazy. I was right about so many things, I know now the name of the devil,  he was a narcissist.

It is beyond words, reading those countless articles online which over and over, consistently repeat the exact same patterns in countless lives,from many different countries from many different people,  the same repetitive vicious infinitely destructive patterns,  the narcissist and his supply,  I mean victim,  his / and her partners in misery.

I am not alone.

I am not mad.

I do not have an illness or personality disorder.

Most of the symptoms of my ‘ mental illness’ completely disappeared immediately after he died. I mean how can you take that? I did take it as the relief from a bad life but it’s more than that. The changes are so huge. It can’t be ignored, I look so different. Five stone just fell off me in eighteen months, I look twenty years younger. That life was killing me and my son, killing us to fill an unfillable hole, the relentless self interest of the narcissist.

Every day was filled with drama and crises, and angry people. No
friends, no safety, no peace, just hassle, after hassle after hassle. Pain and misery followed by occasional relief from pain simply from him not being in a particularly malicious mood for a while. No joy just a temporary lessening of the distress and turmoil for a while. Sixteen years of it, getting worse and worse, sinking lower and lower in every way. A car crash of a life is how I would describe it.

And I blamed myself for almost everything. My fault, my stupidity, my not paying attention, etc etc. Through counseling I ‘ knew’ it couldn’t all be my fault, but it did feel like it. Intellectually I know nothing can be ‘all someone’s fault ‘ but its feels like it has been all mine.

But guess what over Christmas and New Year I kind of didn’t feel it was all my fault. I’ve been laying plenty of blame firmly at his door.

I know what was going on now, I have a name for the senseless chaos of our existence and for the first time the promise of something like closure.

So many inexplicable events, situations and behaviors are now explained.

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