At ease, Cadets; we hope everyone is having a peaceful and safe Memorial Day weekend. Today, let’s talk a little about the searing, excruciating pain of missing the narcissist.
Why on Earth can a brilliant, attractive, capable gal give birth to twins, or perform brain surgery, or nurse a beloved family member in their last days, and get through it with flying colors, but when she breaks up with a narcissist, it can feel like she’s had multiple organs removed by someone shoving their hand into her torso like Castiel in Supernatural fishing around for Bobby Singer’s soul, and now it’s infected and she’s bleeding internally? No, you’re right — a break-up with a narcissist can hurt much more than that.
If the break-up has happened to you, maybe you’re feeling like the only way to abate the pain even a little is to reconcile with the toad. Or at least talk with him. Tell him how you feel, and make him explain himself. See if there’s hope for the both of you, and if he wants to change.
Now, let’s do a brief exercise. Let’s close our eyes, and picture you going out and buying yourself a blow-up doll. You know, the kind they sell at those stores in New York that have signs in the window advertising “rabbits”. You take the blow-up doll home, and inflate him. Then, take a Sharpie marker and add on any facial hair or tattoos the narcissist might possess, and dress him in the ex’s clothes.
Here’s where it gets good. Now, picture yourself driving around with the blow-up doll in the passenger’s seat, and you beaming with happiness and serenity. Envision walking into a cafe, and sitting him in a chair at your table, and ordering yourself a glass of wine and one for your plastic, air-filled friend. How are you feeling? Connected? Proud to be seen with the blow-up doll? Loved? Hopeful the relationship with the doll will grow?
Allow us to go out on a limb here, and wager a guess you might be feeling none of those things. You might feel absurd, ridiculous, empty, pathetic, stupid, embarrassed, and like you’d better leave the cafe before someone takes your picture with your companion and posts it on an unflattering website. Or looks at you with concern and asks you if there’s someone they can call for you.
And so we get to the point: You’re at risk of being awash with every single one of those feelings if you ever made up and returned to the narcissist, and for exactly the same reasons: The narcissist is empty, pretend, and embarrassing to be seen with. He doesn’t love, or connect, or empathize; he only takes up space and frustrates you by not being able to relate to you like a real person. He’s an attention addict, and attention from anyone, anywhere, is far, far more important to him than normal relationship time will ever be.
If the narcissist has recently toddled off, that devaluation hurts. It hurts a lot. You might feel like you’re going crazy. You’re not; in fact you dodged a bullet. And while you heal, give your kids, the dog, your healthy family or friends all a hug. Those hugs will be far more real and meaningful than anything the narcissist ever could pull off, and your assignment is to let yourself feel it.
Thank you. I cannot think of anything more profound to say, other than this article came at the right time and was deeply appreciated.
Thank you for helping me to recover. Ibam almost there…
Hello, I have been reading all about narc. for the last five days. After three in stay psychiatric hospitals and three years of abuse i am seeing the light. Today i read your post and i laughed out loud and hugged my cat. Such a refreshing and host look at the narc’s in the world. I am healing and getting better and i am alive and i thank the stars for that. I nearly didnt not make it and i found that i can live again and breath the air around me without it being sucked away from me. Yes even my air was getting tough to breath. Thanks for the refreshing outlook on this very dangerous sort of person.
I am feeling a particular surge of strength after Michelle Obama’s speech at the DNC earlier this week. She pointed out that she lives in a house built by slaves, and yet looks thru a window at her two, lovely, African American daughters playing with their dog on the White House lawn. She said at that moment she realized “something is working” and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Woah.
Her words were compelling as it pertained to herself, her children, our country and to the concept of hope. Hope, wait what’s that? I remember that word I think…at least I remember how to spell it. Give me a moment, it’s coming back to me, I seem to recall shades of that long, forgotten emotion in the recesses of my heart.
I further reflected upon our first lady’s words, and came to realize that they could be applied to me, to “us.” During our deepest, darkest, saddest days…something is still working: We are GENUINELY communicating, sharing, loving, and supporting one another, albeit barely at times. We don’t know each other yet we feel for each other and guess what “A-hole Narc” you can’t feel anything on your very best day! We can do that at our weakest moments with complete strangers…so I’m thinking I am not quite as weak and useless as you make me feel. Oh yeah, and that makes you an angry mess, ummm let me rephrase that, that makes you an even angrier, messier mess. Something is working in our lives! Nothing works in yours and it never will.
Something is working because this blog/website exist; something is working because Aunt Alex shares her words with us; something is working (though we may not realize it YET) because we love, we hurt, we emote … we feel. I would rather walk around with my swollen eyes, tear stained face, then wear your ugly mask. And guess what, I can wipe my tears and I can use some makeup concealer under my eyes but your mask is permanent.
We are not some figment of our own imaginations or some ghastly creature of the night who uses us as armour but then drains our veins. We are real and that is why we hurt…not because of you A-hole Narc #something is working
So I’ve read just about everything that shows up on the first four or five pages of google on “breaking up with a narcissist” and all the comments & articles of the sites to which I was led, like this one.
Unlike a lot of people, I knew I had one. Back in the day almost 18 years ago, I knew I was falling for “one of those people” only back then, I didn’t know the term narcissist. But being a respecter of mental health issues, believed that even “those people” deserved love too. I did really go in with my eyes wide open. Or as wide open as a very naive small southern town 29 year old could be with a born and bred Brooklyn city rat.
I’ve referred to him over the years as being “everything I ever wanted and more…but it’s the ‘and more’ part that gives me trouble”. Which was very true. But for all his “issues” which I attributed to a seriously messed up childhood compared to my own, I did get the excitement and had new and fascinating worlds open up to me by him and great great great sex. I count the first 12 years wonderful. And, in some ways, I thank him for the opportunity because being with him helped me find what I had always wanted but didn’t know where or how to go about looking as far a wider life, bigger world, different people, were concerned. He didn’t have to separate me from my kith and kin. I ran willingly with all the derision youth has for the staid things and strictures of the familiar.
What is slightly different about my relationship with him–or maybe what makes his a slightly different sort of narcissist–is I never suffered severely from the breakdown phases he would go through. See, I’ve never been like other people and I came from a very straightlaced and predestined world. I was always the “weird one”. I had all the pain and anguish of not belonging and feeling worthless in my early teens and somehow, thank God (truly), came out the other side knowing very much who and what I was and other people’s opinions forever since shed like water off a duck’s back.
I guess that sounds narcissistic in and of itself but it’s not. I look at criticism honestly and if it is correct then I work on improving my flaws. Some I will be working on all my life (I am too much an introvert and a lousy housekeeper). Long ago I learned the lesson that if something irritates you in others, look closely at yourself because we tend to dislike in others what we dislike in ourselves.
A couple of years into my relationship (which I realize now was the “breakdown stage”) it dawned on me that he always took issue with me over behavior he himself did, but that I didn’t really do. I’ve never had any patience with double standards so I pretty much went gaily on my way not taking him seriously and eventually, he’d give up and admire me again for that very reason. I often heard so when he’d come out of silent treatment phase. But also being a loner and living in my own head so much…well the silent treatment was just more opportunity to read or spend thinking deep thoughts without having to dance attendance on him. It balanced.
I guess I’m dense or ‘way too stoic (thanks dad) but I don’t gaslight easy. I mean what I say and say what I mean when I speak at all and I have an excellent memory and could quite calmly tell him when he was mistaken about something. And although he’d try six ways from Sunday to convince me otherwise, I’d pay no attention to his “mind fucks” other than call him on it. I always knew when he was lying to me–even if I didn’t know what about just yet–and would call him on it. That would stop it for a time.
Perhaps the relationship lasted so long because I was such a challenge. I realize now that much of it was a typical dance of narcissistic behavior of him trying different things with me but the only thing that ever garnished him what he needed was acting the lover. So I got a lot of that. Until he started drinking again.
Since I’m not much of a drinker, I had left my high school sweetheart marriage over drinking (but of the rednecky boisterous drunk driving, staying out all night with the boys sort–not abusive) and yearned for more than that small town life of my friends. That was my one and only serious relationship before the narc and I had been 5 years single & dating before HIM.
It didn’t really fall apart until the man I fell in love with sober (7 years) fell off the wagon and went back to his alcoholic ways. Then the narcissist (Mr. Hyde to Dr.Jeckyll) really came out. I gave him “a year” to get straight, then out of love ended up giving him two. But the second year, he started being dangerous physically when he was drunk so I left…moved to another state five states away. And spent a year with no contact licking my wounds. But since I summarily started a new life, a new job, and have a besetting character flaw of false pride, pure survival demanded that I did all my healing in private. Never let anyone see you sweat.
Besides, since I ended up back in the realm of my roots, I didn’t want anyone to have cause to tell me “we told you so” going off to the big city and chasing dreams an’ all. See? pride is probably my biggest sin.
Then after a year, I got an email as part of the 12 step program for forgiveness. We spent 8 months negotiating whether or not he would be allowed back in my life. Yes, he did convince me he had stopped drinking (which family & friends falsely collaborated). The man I loved was back albeit a little more physically and mentally battered. The year without me had not treated him well and yes, I did fall for the “I found out that I am nothing without you” of it all.
To shorten the rest, yes, when he moved back in it all started again. His inept attempts at hiding his activity. His “failing” just when it meant the most that he hold up his end. All the text book stuff more obvious and more pronounced to me the second time around.
After a year and a half, I moved into the guest bedroom and ask him to get his affairs in order and be out by X date (once a month paychecks complicate things and I wasn’t supplementing his move). I’ve always been an independent woman and I bought the house before I ever heard from him and I made about twice what he did once he was here). But I did get bit by having all my kith & kin see the break up, part II. So maybe there was a pride doesn’t pay lesson in there too.
Yes, he found his “soulmate” on facebook (or rather, she found him actually) about three weeks before the eviction date after frantically trolling amongst his harem of crushes, flirtatious co-workers and ex girlfriends who hang on. I do indeed have the dubious honor of being the only ex who utterly refused and refuses to “be friends”. It bewilders him.
Yes, right now I’m the psycho bitch. If someone believes that about me because he said so, fine. They don’t know me well enough to judge and I know that someday, per normal narcissistic behavior, the truth WILL emerge regardless of what he says to another female now. Yes, yes, yes. to all everyone describes and more. But having seen the new woman’s FB conversations and videos she’s sent him–don’t save stuff on MY computer that no, you cannot take with you even tho’ I DO have a laptop–I think that will turn into a case of two narcs playin’ each other for all they’re worth because both have unexpected and unprepared for supply shortages. I also don’t think its a coincidence that she’s back in Brooklyn. I hope she sends him a train ticket.
My pride is pretty severely bruised, especially over the other woman. But my broken heart mended over the drinking break up (his behavior on booze was so awful there was absolutely nothing a self respecting woman could do BUT leave him) and I didn’t ever really give it back to him. I only gave him a chance to convince me to do so and he never managed to do so (obviously sneaking booze didn’t help).
So I’m not curled up in a ball now. I’m still adhering to NC but only because the man I loved was apparently all in my head and doesn’t really exist so there’s on one to contact with regardless of what critter is walking around in his skin. It’s like the Walking Dead, it may look like your husband but you know it’s not really and you HAVE TO chop its head off or die. Full stop.
But I want your readers to know to not beat themselves up over having loved the person they loved. I did love him terribly. I did “stand by the man” through some difficult years, and job losses, and illness, and PSTD (911), etc. etc. But I did that as much for my beliefs about what love is…not necessarily only for the love of him. For better or worse and all that. When he was unlovable, I loved him for love’s sake. I’m not devastated to know it was all fake on his part because I didn’t love him only for his own sake.
And even if he turned out unworthy of the thorough and unconditional love I gave him, that is his loss. My love was true and I’m not sorry to have learned that I can not only desire but PRACTICE long term true love. We all want a true love but the wanting of it is the easy part. Because it’s the practice that’s the real bitch, even in perfectly normal relationships that last past the honeymoon stage.
The next time I get to practise loving someone with my whole heart, the lesson I’ll learn is how to tell who is truly worthy of it. At my age, it is certainly a possibility that I’ll not ever get the chance to love another human being that way although I do know couples who found true love even older. But that’s okay; I can practice on myself while I wait to see if I get admitted into that university again. Nothing ever truly ends; it is all just a learning process. Don’t drop out of school because of one stupid teacher.
Thank you for the forum to say my piece out loud.