Tag: abuse survivor

The Difference Between Abuse And Care

Bones
Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

I had a very interesting discovery the other day.

I had a friend make a joke on one of my posts that suggested I might have a diagnosis other than fibromyalgia. She’s suggested this particular diagnosis ad nauseam in the past. I didn’t take it well. I was upset and antsy and, after some prompting from another friend, I politely set a boundary of can we please not with this topic, and how it makes me feel.

And she apologised. She apologised, explained she had been trying to make a joke about how she could empathise with my experiences because she has the other diagnosis, and the injury I had experienced is one she could imagine herself doing. Then she apologised for missing the mark with the joke. And none of it was ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ or anything like that, it was a true and genuine apology, taking responsibility for what she said and how that made me feel.

It was freeing in a way I cannot put into words. Suddenly I wasn’t offended by the joke, and I could feel her care and consideration for me. It increased my love and respect for her a thousandfold.

This is totally different to the friend I lost. During my diagnosis process for both fibromyalgia and trigeminal neuralgia, when the doctor and I were both pretty sure what I had but were doing the formalities, she would send me messages with all sorts of different things I could have. Constantly. I rarely mentioned any of my symptoms past ‘ow’. She never once asked about them. And she was saying ‘oh what about this? and this? you could have this!’ I repeatedly told her we were pretty confident it was fibromyalgia (or trigeminal neuralgia) and it felt like she was dismissing my knowledge and my doctor’s knowledge of the situation.

She never apologised. She would only say ‘I just don’t want you to have x because it’s chronic and it’s awful’. That is not a place of care. That is a place of control. Which pretty much summed up our whole relationship.

Because of my long history of being abused (right from infancy through to this latest ‘friend’), I have difficulty with identifying when people come from a place of care and love. It’s often only once I begin to establish a boundary, and they accept it and apologise for stepping on it that I can tell the difference.

It has started healing a little part of me that was very raw.

Money Matters

Bones

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I just received news that the long awaited inheritance is now not far off – and that it is likely to be more than originally anticipated.

I freaked out.  Total meltdown.  Still am.  My brain is frazzled, I’m bouncing all over the show, and not all of it is delight.  A lot of it is anxiety.

While hand combing out knotted fur and rambling (surprisingly therapeutic) I realised that my anxiety with money and the lack thereof didn’t actually begin, as I thought, with Him, my narcissistic ex, but rather in my childhood.

I grew up lower middle class in a family of five – two siblings.  We were fed, we were clothed, we had school books and that adhesive sparkly wrap to make them more interesting than just exercise books.  We had healthy lunches.

We would walk to school, rain or shine, typically a 30 minute walk at a good clip.  Mum would walk to the green grocer to pick up veggies for our lunches, and to the butcher to get meats for our sandwiches.  She tried her hand at growing vegetables, but with her severe depression when I was growing up, it was difficult.  She would trawl op shops for clothing for us.  Once in a while I would get a new top or a new pair of pants, which were always from the cheaper shops.

I hated growing because it would mean new shoes, so I would wear the same shoes until my toes were curled in and it was too painful to wear the shoes.  We would drive for 30 minutes to the cheaper shoe shop and Mum would always be fussing over the price of things.  I would always pick the cheapest pair I could walk in.

It took me years before I finally asked to get a bra, and then it was only one.  Once I grew out of that, I would only ever have two bras, and I would wear them until they broke, because I hated shopping with Mum.  We would only ever go to the cheap stores when they were having really good sales.

I understand these are all sensible things to do, but to my growing brain, it was ‘you can’t get money spent on you, we don’t have enough’.  This has been emphasised over and over again in my life by people of great import.  If it weren’t for one of my oldest friends, I wouldn’t have a healthy relationship with money or spending at all.

Compound that with the last 13 years of being in debt with no savings to speak of and barely solvent, as well as, at some stages, barely having enough money to feed myself let alone my animals (they always came first), I have no fucking clue how to be a person with financial security and it scares the shit out of me.

I was gifted with a relatively significant sum when I was with Him from a family member passing.  I paid off my debt, and he insisted on going on holiday overseas and all these expensive things that of course he couldn’t pay for and I had the money so I should pay for them.  It was gone within two months.

I know it’s not going to happen this time, for one thing, I’m not with Him, and for another thing, it’s considerably more, but the fear is still there all the same.  Any sum of money I receive disappears.  POOF!  All gone, with nought but memories and a sour taste in my mouth.  And while intellectually I know it’s not going to happen this time, there is still the overwhelming terror of it all just disappearing.

And of the unknown, this mythical financial security thing that, at 33, I have never felt like I have had.  Even the idea of it is scary.  What do I do with myself?  How to I live without the looming fear of debt, the worry over whether or not I can afford to buy cat food this week?  How do I live if not paycheck to paycheck?

This is entirely new and terrifying territory.  Because I know I am overwhelmed and can’t process this information myself, I will book an appointment with my counsellor for the extra help.  There’s a lot going on here, and this should be an amazing and exciting thing, but it’s not.

Nightmares – A Small Setback

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I’ve been having dreams, nightmares, whatever you want to call it, I’ve been having it.  It invariably involves one or the other of my past abusers.

My usual nightmare involves It, the narcissist I was with for the longest, the one who caused the most damage, and my PTSD.  It typically involves him returning, and just assuming that the relationship is back on, and I fake it.  I fake it to hide my relationship with my amazing human being – which is basically what I’m doing now, minus the being in a relationship with him part, and more with him being on the other side of the world (THANK FUCK).

My first abuser was in my dream last night.  Then, later on in the dream, I did what I have always dreaded doing.  I said Its name instead of my amazing human being’s name.

Sometimes, in the awake world, It’s name will be on the tip of my tongue instead of my amazing human’s name.  I don’t speak when that happens.  I have almost been away from him for the same length of time as I was with him, but some scars take longer to heal than others.

All of this has … done something to me.  I feel flat and anxious at the same time.  I don’t want to do anything.  I want to bundle up in a blanket and drink tea and watch Forensic Files.

And unfortunately I can’t today.  Or at least not all day.  I have adulting I must do before I can be an amorphous blob.

The Unseen Scars of Sexual Abuse

Bones

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I was sitting down to write about the anxiety of needing to do things all the time when my flatmate began cleaning the oven.  This is a completely normal and expected thing, we have a flat inspection coming up, and we’ve just spent the last few days making sure everything is cleaned and put away.  There’s just one problem: due to a defect in his septum, my flatmate has difficulty breathing and breathes very noisily and often with an open mouth.

That’s fine… for anyone else.  For me, it’s a trigger.

I was sexually abused by my ex’s best friend.  There, I said it.  It’s a hard thing to admit.  There is a lot of shame around it, shame that I did not realise what was happening at the time, that I allowed myself to get into those situations, that I was such a doormat.  I’ve told two friends.  I haven’t told my partner.  It’s not something I am brave enough to be open about yet.

Intellectually I know I am not at fault.  I had been in an intimate relationship with a narcissist for at least a year by that point.  My semblance of self, already weak after the previous narcissist relationship on the back of growing up with a clinically depressed mother and a loving but not really on hand father, was virtually non existent by this point.  I was an undiagnosed aspergers woman, and incredibly vulnerable.  It was not my fault.  It is not my fault.  A predator saw the vulnerability and took advantage.

It’s still hard to talk about.  So I’ll throw the story out to the internet, hiding behind my perceived anonymity (I know full well ‘anonymous’ only goes so far unless you take internet anonymity very seriously).

Our house was the ‘party house’.  We would have parties almost every other week at our house, no matter what house it was we lived in, and that was fine.  We used to do various illicit substances, as one does when one is young – nothing hard, nothing technically addictive, and not often enough to get addicted.  It was the usual fun shit from the raver scene.

And it was, it was super fun.  Until he started taking advantage.

I don’t remember when it first happened, but I do remember which house we were in at the time.  He began to pester me to give me a massage.  And pester, and pester, and pester, until me, being the naive, happily high, aspergers person I am, said okay.  So we went up to the bedroom I shared with my partner, I’d lie face down on the bed, and he’d massage my back.  It was just a massage.

He breathed heavily while he gave it.

This continued at subsequent parties.  He convinced me to take my t-shirt off so he could give me a “better massage” and “you can take your bra off if you like but I understand if you’d rather keep it on”.  I always kept my bra on.  My ex would, every single time, walk into the bedroom to “get something” and stop and pause and say in a high pitched voice (that I only now realise as fake) “I’m totally okay with my best friend massaging my topless girlfriend in my bed”.

Looking back at it I have to believe they were both in on it, because he never left a party to “get something” from our bedroom unless his best friend was giving me a massage.

This continued.  For years.  His best friend would pester me until I gave in and would give me a back massage with creepy heavy breathing.  It wasn’t until the later massages that he would push his erect penis (in his pants) against my arse while giving me a massage and lean down like he wanted to kiss the back of my neck.  Thank fuck he never did.  I stopped letting him give me massages after that one.  It made me sick.

A number of parties later, while completely off his face on booze (he had, and probably still has, an alcohol problem), he grabbed me around the waist and dragged me onto his lap where he immediately started grinding his erect penis (in his pants) against my arse crack with some amount of force.  I got his arms off me and stood up and went off without looking at him and blocked the incident from my memory.

I think he might have stopped after that.  I can’t quite recall.

So now heavy male breathing is a trigger for me to lock up and want to vomit.  Unfortunately for me, my lovely flatmate sometimes triggers this.

At least I have noise cancelling headphones.  I should also look into some really good therapy for this.

The Covert Narcissist

Bones

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A much loved friend of mine came around the other day for dinner.  We sat.  We ate dinner.  We drank coke (like adults who don’t drink alcohol do), and we talked.

We talked about her very much ex-boyfriend.  He came back into her life after his then girlfriend left him and has proceeded to spend the last several months in a deep depression, bemoaning how nothing good ever happens to him, and generally getting on her nerves.  When she tries to talk to him about any problems she might be facing in her own life, he manages to very quickly turn it around so that they are discussing his problems.  When she has (previously and currently) attempted to implement boundaries, he has either thrown a fit of ‘I’m the most horrible human being in the whole world I’m so sorry I’m a monster’ or has agreed to them, ignored her for a while, complied with them for a week or two … and then thrown them out.

We talked for hours.  I hadn’t liked him from the get go when she mentioned him years ago, and I liked him even less now.  It seemed to me like his pain was so completely overpowering, no one else’s pain existed.  It seemed to me like he simply did not care about anyone else.

Granted, I was hearing from only one of two people involved, but this is a friend who is well known for the fullness, accuracy, and lack of embellishment in her retellings in all aspects of life, so I feel comfortable that it is in fact a complete picture of their interactions.

This got me to remembering my “friend” who shat bricks at me when I attempted to establish boundaries, and brought me back to what I had learned only a few months earlier about covert narcissists.

So what is a covert narcissist?  

Unlike their more grandiose counterparts who are quite clearly extroverts, covert narcissists are the introverts of the narcissist world.  They’re quiet and shy and insecure, but harbour a secret desire to be discovered or realised for their amazing talent, intelligence, compassion, etc.  They don’t go around with a loudspeaker proclaiming their amazingness, they want other people to recognise how amazing they are and do the proclaiming for them.  They want the world to recognise how amazing they are.  They often proclaim themselves to be incredibly misunderstood or emotionally sensitive.

Covert narcissists are more prone to feelings of “neglect or belittlement, hypersensitivity, anxiety, and delusions of persecution“.  Sound like anyone you know?

Covert narcissists feel superior to everyone else. 

Except they don’t show it as obviously as the grandiose narcissists.  Rather, they express this by feeling as though no one recognises their brilliance, or that they are misunderstood, or the victim of constant persecution.  They are in fact better than other people, it’s just that nobody knows it, but one day someone will recognise their brilliance, their amazing capacity for love, or their intelligence, or their potential, and everyone will know.

But no one ever does, and they’re so misunderstood because of it.  The world is truly out to get them.

Covert narcissists are self-absorbed.  

You may get the feeling that they are simply waiting for you to pause in your retelling of a story, or discussion of a topic, so that they can take it over and move it to a topic they want to talk about.  They are typically disinterested in anything you are interested in, unless it is a mutual interest, and you may feel like they’re not quite interested in what you have to say about it.

This is often shown with closed or disinterested body language, such things as feet pointing away from you, torso turned away, or more extreme, head turned away.  They may be easily distracted.  They may fidget, or cross their arms over their chests.

Or they may be overly attentive listeners, too intense, too involved, too judgmental and negative.  They are quick to criticise, and never note the good points.

This ties in with both their self absorption and their superiority complex – by belittling others, they are able to imply that they must therefore be superior.

Covert narcissists lack empathy.

Narcissists are narcissists, regardless of whether they’re introverted or extroverted – they just don’t care.  They don’t care what you’re going through, they don’t care how you feel, and they certainly don’t care about how their actions make you feel.

For example, you may be discussing some difficulties you are going through, and they will make the appropriate noises and sympathetic words but there’s something … not quite right about them.  You don’t quite know what it is, it’s just a feeling in your gut.  And then they move the topic to their woes.

Or you may be trying to tell them that their actions have impacted you in some way and they may either avoid it completely, gaslight you, or throw themselves at your feet professing they are sorry, they are such horrible creatures, awful people, and try to make you feel sorry for them and tell them it’s okay, you weren’t that mad in the first place …

Covert narcissists are passive aggressive.

Hell hath no fury like a covert narcissist scorned, criticised, not allowed to get their own way, or just displeased in some way or another.  They will out passive-aggressive everyone.  This is often quite hard to detect, other than a bad feeling in your gut that something isn’t quite right.

It manifests as sullenness, stubbornness, subtle insults and of course, everyone’s favourite thing: the silent treatment.

One thing a lot of people don’t realise is passive aggressive behaviour is a failure to do tasks they are responsible for.  I’m not talking about just innocent forgetfulness here, or forgetfulness from stress, I’m talking about a consistent and deliberate behaviour of failing to do to do a task they are responsible for and leaving other people to pick up the mess.

Covert narcissists are highly sensitive.

Many people are highly sensitive – this doesn’t mean they’re covert narcissists.  There’s a difference between being highly sensitive and empathetic and being highly sensitive and narcissistic.

No one particularly likes being criticised, even when it’s done politely, phrased well, and is genuine constructive criticism.  It’s just hard to take.  The difference between a highly sensitive person with empathy is that they will ruminate on it and alter their behaviour accordingly – sometimes with a complete change, other times with a partial change that is respectful of this new bit of information.

A covert narcissist will not.  Their behaviour is perfect, because they themselves are perfect, therefore your criticism is wrong.

If you’ve ever asked someone to tidy up after themselves or not leave an empty chip packet in the cupboard and had a wild ride of ‘I’m a monster, I’m so sorry, I’m so terrible, I’m a horrible human being’ or just had a passive aggressive response, you know exactly what I’m talking about.  They won’t change their behaviour.  They want you to either not comment on it again, or tell them that everything is okay and you weren’t really that mad about it in the first place, it’s fine.

Covert narcissists are the misunderstood special person.

They’re special, they’re amazing, they’re all that and a bag of chips, and no one realises it.

For some covert narcissists, they are this amazing, loving, gentle human being who loves people with such intensity and cares for them so much nothing could possibly be better than them.

For others they are smarter than everyone else, and of course no one else realises it.

This ties in strongly with their superiority complex, self absorption, and (as discussed later in this article), their need to blame everyone else – they are so special, so much more special than other people, and one day someone will realise that and they will flourish so it’s not their fault they’re in the position they’re in, it’s everyone else’s fault for not realising how amazing they are.

Covert narcissists are takers.

It’s very much a one-sided relationship with covert narcissists, as it is with the grandiose narcissist.  Their needs and feelings are prioritised while your needs and feelings are dismissed, ignored, or judged overly harshly.

This ties back to their superiority complex, self absorption and lack of empathy.  Everything is about them, and they can’t possibly understand that someone else might have an important reason for doing something / not doing something.

For example, if you have to cancel dinner plans with one because you’re sick, they’ll be passive aggressive about it, but if they cancel dinner plans with you because they’re sick, they expect you to fuss over them and dote on them and be understanding.

A relationship with them is a one-way street – you give, they take, and it feels like exhaustion and stress when you even think about talking to them, it feels like discomfort in your stomach as you put your all into supporting them through their latest difficulties, and it feels like not wanting to confide in them despite them confiding in you.

Covert narcissists make you feel sorry for them.

Call them out on their behaviour?  They’ll throw such a demonstration you feel sorry for them and tell them it’s okay – without ever having addressed the behaviour you called them out on.

You’re having a bad day?  They’ll tell you their story which is way worse.

Your life is bright and sunny?  Their life is crumbling down.  Nothing ever goes well for a covert narcissist.  They are usually always miserable.

And they love it.  They don’t want to be happy, because being happy means they can’t complain about things, which means they can’t get your attention and sympathy.  They will actively find things to be negative about, or contrive situations to be negative about, and it’s never their fault, there’s always someone else to blame for maximum sympathy.

There is always a marked self-absorption and superiority with regards to their sob stories – it is always about them (never about the other party in the proceedings, although they may mention them in a ‘sympathetic’ manner while saying they themselves are a truly horrible person for doing these things to the other party – there’s no sympathy for the other party, only for them!!), and it is always so much bigger, so much more painful, so much all encompassing than anyone else’s sob story ever.  Broke up with someone?  So much more painful and horrific than anyone else’s break up ever.

Covert narcissists cannot have deep and meaningful relationships.

Not in the same way that non-narcissists can, in any event.  This is entirely down to their superiority, self absorption, and lack of empathy – they simply can’t care about another human being enough to develop those mutual deep bonds.

I must also mention that narcissists by and large are deeply insecure – their behaviours are predominantly around masking those insecurities.  A diagnosed narcissist commented that it’s not just that they’re insecure, it’s that they’re so insecure they loathe themselves.  They can’t stand the thought that another person could get to see what they are hiding, and so they keep people at arms length, forming only superficial bonds because they have hidden away their depths.

Covert narcissists blame everyone else for their problems.

It’s not their fault they don’t have a job, their previous job was absolute hell and they just had to quit.

It’s not their fault they’ve dropped out of uni, it’s the counselor’s fault for not being available, or it’s the car’s fault because it stopped working and they couldn’t get to uni, or it’s the professor’s fault for setting so much work … the list goes on!  I’ve even been blamed for someone’s failure at uni, living literally half way around the world from them and basically being their personal cheerleader!

It doesn’t matter what the problem is, it’s not their fault.  They accept no responsibility for their own actions, their own failures, or the consequences of their own actions.

“He/she/they made me do it,” is a common response to why they did a certain thing.  “I had no choice,” is another.

If you are dealing with a covert narcissist in your life…

My heart well and truly goes out to you – it is a painful and intensely stressful experience.  I myself have completely cut the covert narcissists from my life, and life has improved all the more for it.  If you have the opportunity, I would suggest you do so yourself, as they will not change and will only drag your mood down.

They are also likely to do similar things to grandiose narcissists, such as isolating you from family and friends, and talking badly about you to other people so they dislike you (which is admittedly also an isolating tactic).  This makes you more reliant on them, and so when they go from the love bomb phase into the narcissistic abuse phase (something I’ll discuss in a later post), you are less likely to leave and more likely to take the abuse and be their ‘supply’.

If you are feeling isolated, or suspect you may be the ‘supply’ for a covert or overt narcissist, my inbox is always open.

It’s okay, you are not alone.