"Loving" A Narcissist

There is a post going around that talks about "The inability to receive support from others is a trauma response." It has really been resonating with people (myself included), so I thought I might think/talk on it a bit.

The post references different reasons you might not be able to accept help; e.g. absent parent, abandonment issues, lying, betrayal, trust issues, etc. I, personally, know the struggle with accepting help from others. So, I set some time aside to look into it further, to self analyze myself and ask why?

As far as my childhood went, I was very fortunate. I come from a very loving two parent home. Values were instilled, love was given, lessons taught/learned. We weren't well off, but we wanted for nothing. I was, however, the middle child. As a kid, I did have a bit of a complex about that. I just didn't think I was as important as my older sister or my younger brother. They already had a girl, so having another was just "meh," I wasn't special. Then they finally got their baby boy, to pass down the family name. To me, at the time, I felt like I needed to really work hard for attention or love. It pushed me to become the smart mouthed jokester you all know and love today.

In addition to just being the "meh" kid of the family, I have also always been pretty "meh" in everything else I've ever done or been involved in. I did well in school, without really trying, but I never applied myself to get straight A's. I was just an average honor student. I played sports every season. I was good, but I also wasn't the star player. I guess I was a valued member of every team I was on, like I "contributed to the wins" but I never really shined bright. I loved music and played multiple instruments, loved drawing and writing... but I was no child prodigy. I just kind of lived my life with the mindset that; "You're just okay. People like you okay, but if you want to matter more to people... you need to work harder, do more, be more."

Fast forward to when I was a young 21. My live-in boyfriend and I had just broken up. It was sort of a mutual split, but there was still a lot of sadness that came with it. I was pursued by a guy that was a valued friend (both during and after my relationship ended). A guy that saw me, understood me, appreciated me and constantly told me how awesome I was. We were very like minded and had a pretty killer freaking friendship. The trouble is, when my boyfriend and I broke up... the pursuing began. When we'd talk, his appreciation of who I was and how he talked to me changed. It was MORE than a friend type conversation. Honestly, it was the first and last time I'd ever felt truly seen and appreciated on the level I needed, but it wasn't right. He was much older and married. And the friendship line was wavering. I ran away from him as fast and as hard as I possibly could.

I used what ever I could to keep him a comfortable distance away from me. Picture a scene from a movie where a girl is running from a killer, throwing things laying in an alley into his path in an attempt to slow him down so she can get away. Well, essentially, that's what I was doing. I dated a bartender to keep this guy away from me. He and I broke up, understandably... because he was just some crate or trash can I was using to keep myself safe. When the bartender and I broke up, I was terrified. I cared about this guy on a friend level, but all the things he would say to me, things I had needed so desperately to hear for such a long time (which I think he knew), were dangerous. I was such a mess. I drank constantly. I hated myself for being swept up in by his dangerous words. Before he saw another opportunity to come after me again, I ran to the next single guy who showed interest in me. I just needed a wall or a line in the sand that said, "I have a boyfriend, stop, we're just friends."

This ran me right into the arms of my (now) ex husband. Things were okayish when we lived out in Pennsylvania together. It wasn't until about a month before we moved to Illinois that I started noticing some things that concerned me. We'd go to the bar with friends and he'd get VERY drunk and act... off. He'd get this look in his eye, a very hollow, unsettling look. He would become very arrogant and act like he was cooler than everyone else. Alcohol does weird things to people, so I just shrugged it off. It only happened here and there, so it was nothing to worry about, right? Then I got pregnant and we moved away.

It was then I realized I was in trouble. I touched on this briefly in my other posts, but he changed instantaneously, when we moved away. As soon as my family, friends and any support that I'd known was gone... he showed his true colors. It seemed, I was having a child (two actually) with a text book narcissist.

Below is information from The Mayo Clinic that discusses signs/symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder. My ex, quite literally, checks every single description:

Signs and symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder and the severity of symptoms vary. People with the disorder can:

• Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance

• Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration

• Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it

• Exaggerate achievements and talents

• Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate

• Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people

• Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior

• Expect special favors and unquestioning compliance with their expectations

• Take advantage of others to get what they want

• Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others

• Be envious of others and believe others envy them

• Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious

• Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office

At the same time, people with narcissistic personality disorder have trouble handling anything they perceive as criticism, and they can:

• Become impatient or angry when they don't receive special treatment

• Have significant interpersonal problems and easily feel slighted

• React with rage or contempt and try to belittle the other person to make themselves appear superior

• Have difficulty regulating emotions and behavior

• Experience major problems dealing with stress and adapting to change

• Feel depressed and moody because they fall short of perfection

• Have secret feelings of insecurity, shame, vulnerability and humiliation

I understood what was happening. I was not in denial 0f the fact that I was not married to good man. I saw him. I knew. The trouble is, I was convinced I deserved it. God was punishing me, so I'd try to weather the storm as best as I could.

I was stuck in a situation where I was a stay at home mom. I wasn't bringing any money into the home. So my value to him turned to ZERO, because he was ALL about money and status. He never wanted a wife or kids, he told me that himself, but it happened. I think he embraced us in the small way he did, because with us, he would be one upping his best friend. It was always a competition with them, newest TV, gaming system, cars, etc. Kids were one thing his buddy didn't have. To me, it felt like we were just objects in the home... that increased it's value. He didn't care about us.

We talked about my getting a job somewhere in an effort to start bringing money into the household. He decided that any job I would be qualified enough to get, wouldn't pay much... and that the small amount of money I would make would just go towards childcare anyways, so there was no point. So I was stuck. He would never value me unless I was bringing in some sort of income, so I tried to do other things to contribute. Other things I COULD do, to show my worth. I did all the cooking, cleaning, cared for both girls entirely on my own, I did all the yard work, I did all the home renovations, etc. None of that mattered.

To him, I had no worth, no value. We were just more mouths to feed and more money out of his pocket. I would do the grocery shopping and he would be PISSED at me for buying Ballpark hotdogs, Tide detergent and Cottonelle toilet paper... three things I had always used and preferred, but didn't think would be problematic. He was seething mad about it, so I decided I would just let him do the grocery shopping then. Let him dictate what we got, to avoid any further unintentional conflict. Nope, then I was in trouble for not doing the grocery shopping. I couldn't win with him.

One night we were downstairs watching tv together and he decided to go up to bed. He went upstairs then immediately came storming down the stairs with the most comical (but dead serious) teeth clenching look of hate on his face. He never said a word to me, just glared daggers and stormed up to me grabbing me by the wrist and marching me back up the stairs. We get to the bedroom, he lets go of my wrist and angrily points at the bed. He still has not said a word to me, he's too pissed off. I look at the bed. There were no sheets on the bed, I had cleaned the whole house and changed the bedding. The sheets were in the dryer, done... I just hadn't heard the dryer shut off. I'm like what? He still didn't speak, he just continued to sharply point at the bed. I couldn't help it, he was being ridiculous, I laughed at him. "What? The sheets? Yes, they are in the dryer, I'll go get them." I went down, grabbed the sheets and came back upstairs and made the bed. He didn't help. Just stood there angrily waiting for me to finish so he could have his bedtime beer and sleeping pills.

That was my life. Constant irrational conflicts and rage. Constant belittlement. Constantly made to feel stupid and worthless. He drank nonstop. He would drink shooters that he hid in his car before he even came in the house and would have a beer in his hand from the minute he was in the door until he fell asleep in his bed. Eventually I stopped sleeping in there with him and found myself camped out on an air mattress in my infants room.

I knew he was cheating on me. He stopped coming home after work. I stopped caring because it was easier when he wasn't there. I was too busy being a (basically single) mom to my beautiful little girls anyways. I had tried to get through to him for years that he was not being the man that we needed. I gave him every opportunity to turn it around, and he wouldn't. To him, I just needed to shut my fucking mouth and be in compliance with what ever shit he decided to throw at me.

He had rage issues, for what ever reason, and on a couple occasions it did get physical. One night we had a couple drinks, well I had a couple... he had a bit more. He and I started a playful wrestling match. It started out fun, he had me pinned and I worked hard to get out of it then had him down. I don't really know what the reason was, maybe he was pissed that I had bested him for a moment, but the playfulness of it faded instantly. He went into rage mode, picking me up in the air and slamming me down on the ground so hard that it knocked the wind out of me and I struggled to get any to come back in. I was both surprised by the sudden change in demeanor and hurt that he'd done that to me. He had no remorse. Nothing.

A second physical incident with my ex was during one of my birthday parties. We had invited a handful of people over and again, we were socially drinking... him a bit more. I came down the stairs where he was standing and just kinda bumped his hip with mine to say hello. Out of nowhere, he grabbed ahold of me and put me to the ground face first on the tile floor, holding my arm behind my back. I was shocked by this. I couldn't tell if he was messing around or not. Everyone around us seemed just as shocked trying to assess what was happening. He started pulling my arm up higher and higher to the point there was nothing but resistance, as my arm wouldn't go that way any further. I'm a pretty tough girl and I don't like to show weakness, but I started to become very concerned. I very calmly, but firmly told him, "You need to get off me, you are going to break my arm." I repeated this... but it was falling on deaf ears. It was like he wasn't even there. The look in his eyes were like that of the Terminator, fixed, firm, empty, inhuman. He was not there. Finally his friend and sister had to intervene and tear him away from me. I don't really know what to say. It was embarrassing and awkward and I tried to pretend it hadn't just happened. Happy Birthday!

Speaking of memorable birthdays, did I tell you about the time he invited his girlfriend to one of my birthday parties? That was a fun one. He told me he was hanging out with the guys after work, but also this girl. He reassured me that she was a lesbian and I didn't have anything to worry about. I didn't believe a word he said on the matter, but I dropped it because he would have denied, denied, denied and turned it around on me... telling me I was delusional and crazy, so why bother. Well, he invites her and her "girlfriend" to my birthday party, so I can meet them and feel okay with them hanging out after work. Whatever. They spent the whole night together, whispering in each others ears and laughing. At one point while most of us were playing Rockband, they took that opportunity to walk up the stairs together away from the party. It was bad enough he was making a fool of me behind my back, but to do it in front of me, on my birthday of all days. blowing me off all night and now... he's taking her upstairs alone?!?! The balls and lack of remorse... Everyone looked at me, out of the corner of their eyes like "Umm... does she see this?!" Yeah, I saw. I went up behind them and said, "Uh hello, what are you doing? The party is downstairs." She said "He wanted to show me his guns." He said, "She wanted to see *our daughter*" (who was sleeping). Again... Happy fucking Birthday.

*side note, they're married now with a baby on the way*

I basically stayed with him until my youngest was born and she had her first 6 months worth of check ups, then I made arrangements to move back home with my girls. I had a wedding that I was in back home, so I told him, "I'm not going to want to come back." He said, "I know." I said, "I don't think we're going to." He said, "I think that's a good idea." And that's the end of that story. We moved home and I never looked back. Leaving him was nothing I ever questioned. By the time we left, I made certain I felt content that I tried everything to keep "the family" together for the girls sake. But by the time we left, I was certain I was doing the absolute best thing for them... for us... It was the only choice.

I never really had help with the girls out in Chicago. I was basically a single mom with a husband, so being a single mom without a husband... was not a huge adjustment. I had a job as soon as I got home and just kept working towards bigger and better things for us. I felt great. I spent years being told, "I couldn't function in the world without him." That I "Retired at 22." That "I'd like to see what you contribute to this family." I knew better. I knew my worth. After leaving him... I tried to keep things on fairly decent terms. Things would go well until something happened where I would get a better job, or something in our lives would improve in the slightest... then he would lash out. It was always unprovoked, but I always knew... as soon as we would reach another goal, I could expect some sort of conflict with him. He also consistently would make snide remarks about me, while Skyping with the girls, knowing I could hear. I would never respond. I knew he was trying to get a reaction from me and I refused to give him one. As the girls have gotten older, they've started picking up on it. They will look over at me and I'll just put my hand up and shake my head, as to say "It's fine, don't pay attention to it." We make the best of it.

Fast forward to, today. I'm still a single mom. I'm not married, despite being in a 4 year relationship. I'm not even living with my boyfriend. Honestly, it's a little crushing. Feels like rejection. "I love you... BUT..."

It's like I'm still that "meh" kid that has to fight to be seen, loved or appreciated. It's hard for me to accept help from others, because at the end of the day... it's always just me. I cannot rely on anyone but myself. I cannot wait around for anyone to find time to help me with something or to make the moves needed to commit to a life with us... or I will literally just be waiting around for the rest of my life. I've been living in a purgatory state of mind just waiting for things to improve or move forward... and it has eaten me up inside. I almost lost myself again. I can't do that anymore. I climbed out of this pit in my mind, put my ballcap on backwards (like the little bad ass tomboy I was), started this website and I'm going for it.

I don't need anyone's love or appreciation anymore. I'm not going to fight for it.

I know my worth.

I have massive goals to reach. Mountains to climb.

I've kicked off from lower places in my life, than where I am right now.

Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Lets freakin' soar!

Layney Lethal.