Tag: narcissism

Narcissistic Abuse and Expressing Emotion

Bones

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I was in a long term, committed relationship, with a narcissist for a long time.  Almost a decade.  Almost a decade, to be precise, throughout my twenties.  As a result of this, I have a myriad of issues I am unpacking and unpicking, including PTSD, but one issue I’ve noticed (and I’m working on really hard) is the inability to express emotion in what I perceive as a correct and healthy manner.

As an autist, I have always experienced emotion very intensely, to the point of physical pain or discomfort.  As an autist in a relationship with a narcissist, I … edited my emotional output and expression to be palatable to the narcissist’s inability to cope with anything other than superficial expressions of emotion.  I would, in a sense, tense up my emotions, whip them up so they were light and fluffy enough to be appropriate for the target audience – Him.  This, in a sense, prevented me from fully appreciating the depth of emotion that I could experience.

Another part of my abuse was the constant pressure to be perfect, to always be happy, to never be sad or angry or upset.  Everything was always fine.  Everything was always okay.  Nothing was ever wrong.  This caused me to avoid situations that might bring up any negative emotion, to seek only things that brought me enjoyment, and to ruthlessly clamp down on feeling.

It’s so ingrained it’s now part of my coping mechanism, and it got me to where I am today.

I realised it was a problem late last year, with my now partner.  In an effort to correct this, I would spend considerable time before talking to him sitting, breathing, relaxing my stomach muscles and allowing myself to feel.

It’s taken a long time, but now I can look at him and there is no tension in my chest.  I can look at him and allow myself to smile and know that it is a genuine one, not a pinched, repressed one.  The fluoxetine definitely helps with this, but it has also been months of hard work, months of patience on his part, months of care and consideration.

It feels amazing to be at this point.  I know there’s still a ways to go in this specific area of recovery alone, not including all the other ticks I’m trying to shed, but just this level of progress is so heartening.

That Sly Manipulation

Bones

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I was going to write about the difference in feel between the same actions with different intent.  Instead I’ll write about manipulation, because a terrible ‘friend’ and manipulator has just exited my life, and I’m feeling sore.

If I went into the history of the friendship it would be a novel.  Instead I shall say that he was a good friend’s internet boyfriend when we were in highschool, and when she left him … I stayed his friend.  Dealing with him always stressed me out, because he was needy and he was very negative and he would do and say things that would make me uncomfortable.  It got to the point where I uninstalled Facebook Messenger on my phone because just seeing his face pop up made me want to scream with anxiety and frustration.  There were many a day where he would pop up and I would scream “fuck off” to my phone and be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day.

It’s only very recently that I’ve realised why.

He is manipulative.  He says horrible things about himself so that I will say nice things.  He cowers and crawls when he feels it will get him what he wants, he deliberately inspires pity.  He is incapable of seeing anyone’s discomfort or pain other than his own – I told him he’d done something to hurt me and all of a sudden it was all about him, how bad he is, how he hates himself, how it hurt him, how anxious he is, how sick he’s feeling, how he can’t cope … and this has, I realise, been the pattern throughout our entire friendship.  There is no room for me in the friendship.  There never has been.

I took him to task, and I wouldn’t let him pull his shit on me, so he blamed me for him dropping out of school and failing at work and ‘proving him right’, and how he wished I thought he was dead.  What a lovely human being he is.  How kind and considerate.  And yes, there are two sides to this story, I “attacked him” when he apologised the first time (saying I’m sorry, I’ve got the job, my boss has sent me to a counselor because I tried to kill myself, me, me, me, me) and so he “fled” (blocked me so he could continue believing I was a mean and horrible person who hated him).  But holy hell I have never said, suggested, or attempted to make him believe in any way, shape, or form, anything like  what he just said to me.  That’s just downright cruel.  I’m aspie as fuck and even I know that shit don’t fly

I’m angry, sure, but also just kind of … disappointed and deflated.  This is someone I’ve known for 16 years.  This is someone I’ve supported through depression, someone I’ve cheered on from the sidelines, someone I’ve encouraged to do what he enjoys, what he loves, to look after himself first and foremost.  I know it’s just who he is, and in a way that almost makes it worse, because I didn’t see it until now.

Except that I did, I just didn’t really know it.

PTSD Awareness Day

Bones

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I didn’t even realise it was today, yesterday, the 27th of June.  PTSD awareness day.  We should all be aware of it, and realise that it is occasionally a sequellae of trauma, a bit like how reduced kidney function or renal disease is occasionally a sequellae of an acute kidney event.  Some people only need a bit of an acute event for their kidneys to be severely impacted.  Others need more.  It can be managed, but it often cannot be cured.

Well, that’s the same with PTSD.  People are individuals, and it is not your perceived level of the trauma the person went through that indicates the impact it has on the person, or the validity of the impact it has on that person.  Rather, it is the level of severity of the impact on the person as they experience it.

I have PTSD.  I was with a narcissist for many years in a romantic relationship.  I’m talking narcissistic personality disorder here, complete with impacting every area of his life, not just your regular old arsehole.

I have a moment I can remember and identify as a PTSD flash back.  This happened while I was on holiday.  I’m sure there were many before this, lost in the haze of ‘dealing with it’ (before I even vaguely understood what was going on inside my own brain), but this is the one memory I can pluck from my brain and say “see this, this is a PTSD flash back”.

He was, as many narcissists are, obsessed with the perception of power and wealth.  “Keeping up with the Joneses” style.  One of the things he loved to do was go to fancy hotels, have a luxurious full meal, spend a bit of time in the casino, and stay the night.  It was like a “stay-cation”.  It was all very posh.  Sometimes he would dress me up.  Later, he would insist I wear things that would make me appear unappealing and unattractive, or awkward in such a setting.

While on holiday earlier this year, my travelling partner and I briefly checked into … okay, it wasn’t that fancy of a hotel, but it was on par with what he used to like to go to, decor wise.  I was waiting in like for the desk to check in.  My travelling buddy was waiting with our bags.  I was tired, a bit over stressed because of wanting to get checked in and get some sleep before the next leg of our journey.

It hit me like a brick to the face.  I would turn around and it would be him standing next to the suitcases.  My stomach dropped, I wanted to vomit, and I’m pretty sure if I had opened my mouth it would have been my heart that came up.  I was shaking.  I forced myself to turn around, knowing that as soon as those suitcases were in sight … it wasn’t him I saw.  Instead it was the amazing, loving, equally tired human being I was on this mad journey with and I welled up with tears of relief.  It took a bit to stop myself from crying then and there, and even longer for the shakes to subside.  I was back to crisis control – everything is fine, nothing is wrong, it’s all okay, everything is fine.

It wasn’t okay, and it’s not okay, and it will probably never be okay, because every time I see someone who looks like him I want to vomit.  I have nightmares that this new life I have built for myself is just a figment of my imagination.  I will not enter certain places to eat because they are affiliated with him in my mind.  I will not act in certain ways because those ways were associated with him and the abuse.

Words cannot express how much this trauma has impacted me, how PTSD affects my life even now, almost half a decade since it all ended.  There are many more years of slow healing in my future, assisted by amazing human beings, animals, good music, medication, and a whole load of therapy.  Even then, I suspect there will be some things that I will just never be able to do, or experience.  And that is totally okay.  Because there are other things that I can do, thanks to being free of him.