The emotional abuse that occurs in a relationship with a narcissist is merciless and relentless. Narcissists brainwash their victims. They use several different methods of coercion in order to obtain control over their significant other. They threaten, degrade, shift blame, criticize, manipulate, verbally assault, dominate, blackmail, withdraw, withhold love and affection and gaslight their victims.
-Lisa E. Scott
Ben and I had experienced 10 months of sheer bliss without even a single disagreement; then – out of the blue, after that awful threesome he yanked me from bed to participate in – I was discarded. Ever since that happened, I was always on edge, the thought of being discarded was always in the back of my mind no matter what. Ben could sense this, and seemed to enjoy making me feel insecure by constantly insinuating that he’d soon be leaving. Looking back, after that discard, the rest of my time spent with Ben in my life was always accompanied by anxiety and his sense of dread in my stomach. In time Ben realized that doing this further reinforced the notion that he was a narcissist – which he detested – and I’d began pointing out to him each time it occurred. In my naive mind I thought I was helping him – he didn’t want to be a narcissist – so me showing him things he did that only narcissists did I thought was beneficial. I now know it was adding fuel to the fire inside him that he kept hidden away so perfectly.
So Ben stopped hinting at my demise, he started promising to avoid mentioning his departure; I know he didn’t do this for me but rather for himself, but he made a point of telling me there was to be no end between us – that our friendship was meant to live on and on.
He said he’d invested so much time and effort into me that he’d never consider dropping me like he’d done in the past. There was to be no more discarding he assured me, especially since (according to Ben) he was not a narcissist. I didn’t believe he was no longer a narcissist out of the blue like he claimed – I knew him all too well, I knew his ways, and I knew he was a narcissist no matter how badly he hated that reality. But I still believed his love for me was real, and I believed him when he said he saw no end in sight between us. I believed, to some extent, narcissism was a choice; he might be inclined to act certain ways, but he clearly knew right from wrong, and he had a choice – and he’d show me numerous times he knew how to make the right choice. Even more than I did at the start of round 2, I held on to his promise:
I will not discard you.
I promise: I will not discard you.
Of course, it was foolish but wishful thinking on my behalf to believe anything Ben said. Ben couldn’t not discard – no matter what – it was only a matter of time before I began hearing his discard chants, his threats, and being blocked repeatedly by phone again.
Like I always promised, I’ve come back for you, I’ve stayed true to my word. I am here like I always said I would be.
I promise: I will not discard you.
What will it take to get you out of my life once and for all?
I promise: I will not discard you.
I want you the fuck out of my life forever!
Fuck my promises, fuck what I’ve said, my word is meaningless!
If you actually believe I’d ever intentionally or unintentionally hurt you, you don’t know me at all. So if you feel that way, I need to leave your life.
I’m not discarding you because I intend to say this to your face and I’m not blocking you by phone.
Each time Ben discarded me, it seemed like my expulsion was the final one, intended to last forever. But each time Ben discarded me, it was only a matter of days, maybe a few weeks max, before he returned. Each time he came back acting like nothing bad had ever happened, presenting with selective amnesia that denied all the mistreatment from our past. It was only a matter of time before this all repeated itself again and again.
But regardless of returning, repeatedly Ben chose to put me through unnecessary torture – and did so without any remorse. He’d go from perfect boyfriend to this strange, wild, rabid animal dead set on being as cruel as possible; it was a complete Jekyll and Hyde that made no logical sense, but with time, I became desensitized to this sort of abuse.
Ben was never at a loss for words in making me feel all the more crappy while kicking me to the curb.
Ben would always find some way to flip the script and end up blaming me for my own removal from his life.
Ben was the perfect one; I was always the one at fault, he claimed.
In Ben’s eyes, narcissistic abuse didn’t exist, it was all in my head. And dare I say otherwise, there’d be hell to pay.
Ben had quite the affinity for using expletives and absolutes to make me believe his hatred was real and our ending had arrived.
He never ran out of 32 flavors of informing me that seeing him again would never occur.
Ben always stressed how much he’d begged and pleaded for me to “let” him leave my life, attempting to make me feel all the more pathetic and unwanted.
Ben’s finales were always harsh, callous, and cruel; it was apparent he wanted to leave me feeling as hopeless as possible. He succeeded every time.
Ben definitely had a way with words, and knew how to use them to ensure every day ended with confusion for me… and, when possible, also ended with rain. Ambiguous, ominous statements were frequently used to throw me off, as with the below – what the hell does it even mean? By texting me the right words at 9AM sharp, he knew he could throw me off for the rest of the day at work, resulting in me failing in my assignments.
Ben loved to reinforce just how long and how many times he’d wanted to leave me for good. He seemed intent on driving that dagger even deeper through my heart each time he tried throwing me away.
He’d put on quite the pre-discard show each time, working up to my expulsion with words that got nastier by the sentence. Yet the 4 times I accepted his discarding and said,
Fine then: no contact starts now!
Minutes later he was knocking on my door. Every single time, like clockwork, this occurred. It was as he was putting on a show for others, trying to prove to someone that he hated me when, in reality, he actually wanted (or needed) to return.
In the end, Ben never stopped reiterating that he wasn’t discarding me as he would be throwing me away by telling me to my face, and he wouldn’t block me on his phone. Ben didn’t even know his own disorder well enough to know the definition of discard doesn’t include blocking or ghosting, elements he appeared to think were crucial to this mean tactic. To discard someone simply means to throw them away, unexpectedly, in a harsh manner intended to make them feel worthless and not have closure. It has nothing to do with being blocked or if it’s done in person or remotely.
I was cycled constantly by Ben, being discarded a good 30+ times during the 18 months officially compromising round 2.
Each time he’d look me square in the eyes and make the most dehumanizing remarks about how worthless I was, how I’d never see him again, and how my presence was a nuisance and a nightmare.
Each time the anger in me would boil even more until I was steaming. At times, if I closed my eyes and thought of him, I’d envision Ben in an orange jump suit, being whisked away to jail in cuffs, that’s how I came to view him: as an evil, lawless, remorseless abuser.
But for some odd reason with each discard, I’d always end up craving him all the more. He’d become all I could think about, I’d text him non-stop begging him to return, I’d give him… exactly what he wanted: attention, adoration, control and power.
I’d react to his abusive treatment in a way that left me appearing to be the crazy, unstable one; and Ben – on the other hand – appeared to the rational one in control of his emotions, the one who was calm, collect and sane. He may have behaved calm and collect, but sane he was definitely not.
And each time we’d each play our respective roles like we’d always done, only for Ben to return, acting as if nothing had ever happened. And I played along like a fool.
It’s so difficult to reconcile the Jekyll and Hyde you experience with a narcissist; for me I couldn’t accept that Ben really was void of empathy, that he really disliked me as he claimed, that he really was so inhumane that he’d throw people away like garbage after building them up with non-stop compliments.
I always remained in love with the “mask” that I met at the starts of round 2. That mask was everything I ever wanted in a partner, it was something I could take home to mom and she’d fall in in love with instantly.
Ben came across as being so astute, altruistic, kind, and compassionate when he wore the beautiful mask; everyone that saw us believed we were the happiest couple around. Nobody realized that every few weeks or months he’d become a monster that raged against me, wanting me to suffer, and enjoyed every moment of my pain. It made no sense to me though, and for that very reason, I couldn’t seem to let him go, I clung to the belief that he was acting out, that he was lying to deal with some deep-seated pain, it wasn’t possible that he truly saw me as the enemy. The reality is that narcissists can’t experience love, and if you’re their lover or partner, you’re their number one target, you’re the one person they want to see dead.
It’s so strange; but it’s how they operate. Nothing about narcissism makes sense, and I got stuck trying to make sense out of this all, which kept me stuck in this destructive way of life. It kept me clinging to that mask I’d fallen for only it was nothing but a mirror of myself.
I’d always manage to forget how Ben would have this great metamorphosis into evil and instead I’d buy into his beautiful words and kind act all intended to hoover his way back into my life. It worked, though, every single, goddamn time.
Each time I’d freak out and get all the more upset, turning into a crying, depressed, and hopeless mess, wanting nothing more than to die. I’d lock myself in my room, thinking about nothing but him. Ironically in the end I found myself completely isolated from everyone, I found myself far more depressed than I’d ever felt before, I wasn’t doing well at work, my life was getting worse not better: everything Ben had claimed he didn’t want for me was exactly how I ended up. And making matters worse, I became completely dependent on Ben, I couldn’t have sex with anyone else without wanting to get up and put on my clothes and leave; he’d ingrained himself in every facet of my life somehow. And he didn’t care if I sank or swam. Each time he discarded me, it felt like I’d lost the only thing that mattered to me in life, the only love I’d come to find, only at the time I didn’t realize he was the furthest thing from it.
As much as I came to abhor Ben, I still felt this odd bond with him, I always felt this sense of safety whenever I was with him. I believed he had issues and was acting outs a result, but that deep-down, he truly loved and valued me.
The truth was: Ben didn’t love me at all, he couldn’t love me or anyone for that matter. Ben enjoyed watching me have an orgasm with him just as much as he enjoyed watching me cry, he wanted to feel revitalized by whatever reaction he could illicit from me. I was not a person to Ben; I was just an object for him to use in whatever way he saw fit.
This was not love, this was not admiration, this wasn’t even friendship; this was a manipulationship.
This was abuse.
Only Ben adamantly denied it and lashed out whenever I suggested his behavior constituted abuse. In fact, me telling him that he hurt me – that caused Ben to hurt more than anything he claimed; it made no sense. The second portion of round 2 had that being a central theme: he saying Ben hurt me somehow hurt Ben, so I wasn’t allowed to do that. Perhaps he was just screwing with my mind, but he claimed that it hurt him more than anything else.
I always felt like I wasn’t good enough, like there was something so inherently wrong with me that I deserved his mistreatment. If only I did something more, if only I was better than the rest, then Ben would wake up and see reality I thought. Narcissists can’t see reality because that means they’re forced to see everything they hate. Nonetheless I remained hooked on Ben like an addict, and I didn’t question it, I kept following him and refusing to let go; and I had no clue why, I honestly didn’t even think about it. People often ask, “Why would you stay with someone that treats you like that?”
There’s no easy answer, there’s no way to explain it rationally; it makes absolutely no sense at all.
Research has found that this type of relationship “cycling” – one based on fear and mistreatment mixed with praise and feigned love, one based on negative reinforcement with a touch of positive reinforcement mixed in to throw you off, one founded on feelings so intense and extreme, they all lead unnaturally bombard the brain with a slew of neurotransmitters which form “the neurochemical bond from hell,” the perfect storm for Stockholm Syndrome.
This repeated pattern of being idealized, devalued and discarded, then throwing in occasional, always-confusing, positive and negative reinforcement, together this toxic mix causes one to develop a trauma bond with their abuser. You can’t live without the very person preventing you from living in the first place. Every time you’re discarded there’s only one person who can save you; your abuser then becomes your savior.
It’s sick, it’s a cheap shot at controlling another – and it’s intentional. It’s also extremely effective in enslaving someone that’s vulnerable. Studies say it’s easier to detox off heroine than it is detoxing off a narcissist, and while I’ve never done heroine, I’d fully endorse that statement.
Each time Ben discarded me, he gained more power over me, and he knew it; it’s precisely why he did what he did like clockwork. By discarding me, leaving me to feel worthless, unloved, and in a state of utter despair indefinitely until he decided to return made Ben all the more powerful. He was the only one who could save me from the horrible predicament he’d left him in intentionally, it was a dog chasing its tail that never ended.
As time passed, I became all the more dependent on Ben as my drug of choice. It was disgusting, because he was well aware of what he was doing – yet he’d deny it until the day he died. He knew he was playing me and using me for his own sadistic enjoyment, all the while playing the role of saint when he was far more in line with Satan. Ben was one magnificent actor and he never broke a sweat; never at all. Lying was so second nature to him. Only he failed to realize I began taking note… closely to what he said.
It wasn’t long after the new year that I was discarded yet again; and then again again. And there always this veil of fear in the environment like Ben was abut to discard me any second. I can’t even recall what made him snap this particular time – did I ask him to repeat himself? Did I say no to him? Did I express that he had hurt me? It was likely one of those, or any combination thereof, but whatever the reason was, it was bogus.
Ben transformed into this haughty, spoiled little entitled bitch when he’d go into “discard” mode: he’d smirk, he’d snicker, his eyes would squint as if he could hardly see you as he said horrible remarks and then suddenly kicked you out of his one-man kingdom “forever.” I don’t know why I even cared – well, yes I do actually – because of that damn idealization phase, I still believed that the beautiful side to him existed, as opposed to it being a craft he’d mastered to a tee. It was also the sex: I’d been sexless I felt for my entire life it seemed, Ben and I couldn’t be in the same space without things getting heated, it was a sensation I’d never experienced before and doubt I ever will again. But it was intoxicating, and intoxication leads to stupidity, that’s what the Book of Narcissism in the Bible is based on actually. It was also the sex that gives narcissism this sadistic creepy feeling, they have so much sex with you, they pay you all these amazing compliments, they rant and rave about your skills and suddenly – they cut you off, they say they don’t want sex at all, and they use it to punish you. I don’t know how else to describe it, it was what jumped out at me in round 1 with Ben and led me to discover the “n” word.
A good year before all this, my blog, my story, it all had come to a dead-end; I was stuck facing the reality that my first boyfriend gave me HIV, likely on purpose, and that was here to stay forever. There was no happy ending, there was nothing good to come out of my misfortune, he’d gotten away with spiritually murdering me. And my blog sat at a stagnant still for a good while – there was no way to transform the horrible events into something others, or even myself, could learn from.
After meeting Ben, having used this blog as a tool of working through my personal demons, I decided to start up again with the goal this time: to give it a happy ending, as Ben convinced me that narcissists weren’t actually bad after all. I thought that was definitely possible, given all the wonderful things he’d brought into my life.
Ben had initially said not all narcissists used their “skills” to do bad things, that many did good things. Despite Ben throwing me off a lot with mind games, despite his discarding me, Ben treated me soooo well otherwise; Ben was my favorite person in the universe, even with all the nasty things he did, that’s how great his good side could be. I believed Ben’s words, and I decided to finish this blog and show the world how they had it all wrong with narcissists.
Oh, the irony; Ben was alongside me the entire time I created this blog basically, and the section (although it’s since evolved significantly) on narcissism was my tribute to him, my attempt to show the “other side” to narcissism, to prove that narcissists weren’t pure evil, that they were just predisposed neurologically to viewing the center of the world as themselves, which doesn’t make someone evil, it’s just a slight handicap I guess, but one that a person could certainly overcome and still be a good human being. What I didn’t know was that the entire time this blog was driving him mad, he detested it more than anything on the planet…
Ben would swear up and down that he wasn’t discarding me, I don’t know if he said it to be patronizing or to truly ensure he didn’t have the appearance of a narcissist.
Discard or not, his words to follow always proved his true colors, a phrase he loved to throw at me:
While I knew that it was true, I couldn’t fully grasp that Ben was a pathological liar, I still believed much of what he said. He lied about anything and everything. I wasn’t one to lie (not saying I am always 100% honest, they say the average person lies 6 times a day. I’d say I probably fall around that number). If I wasn’t honest with Ben, I felt guilty about it and admitted it later on; Ben, on the other hand, didn’t feel guilty about anything. When I’d catch him in the midst of a lie, he’d become enraged with me. He’d often disappear and refuse to speak to me, using the excuse,
If you think I’d actually do that or be that way, then I can’t have you in my life.
It always amazed me how Ben would lie and then, when caught, get mad at me for knowing the truth and still fight me tooth and nail over something he knew wasn’t true; the lengths he’d go to in fighting for his lies was pathological. It was useless trying to correct him; in the end he’d never budge, and I’d always cave, deciding it wasn’t worth it to prove I was right if it meant losing Ben.
I definitely learned some interesting information from Ben, which included:
(1). In everything, Ben saw an ending. Everything – every feeling, every love interest, every favorite everything, job, home – they all had an ending, and he thought about that a lot. I, on the other hand, felt the polar opposite. After initially wining and dining me with his sex and charm and promises of being together forever, Ben frequently brought up – not quite as “pre-planned” as my demise in round 1 – but he’d drop hits about how we had an ending that would soon hit. I loathed this, and he knew it. He ultimately stopped doing it – he once prided himself on not mentioning an ending for us in 2 whole months – what a superstar that Ben was, 2 whole months… Keep in mind I was under the impression that Ben’s narcissistic traits were a choice, I knew his nature led him in one direction but he often chose the opposite.
I didn’t consider that in the end he was nothing more than the slave of his nature, and so endings, pain, discards, using sex as punishment, and smear campaigns weren’t opt-outs, they were must happens. No matter how often Ben would cite how he wanted to end things since such-and-such date, he’d fail to mention or appear to forget that he’d also gaslight the fuck out of me by sending concomitant texts saying the total opposite, that I had no termination date, and that he’d invested “too much time in” me to let me leave his life, he saw me as being part of his life long-term. I always hated the way, however, that Ben stated things dealing with this – that he chose me to be in his life. It made me cringe. I told him time and again that you don’t necessarily choose your friends, they just are your friends, and friends are meant to stay. We agreed to disagree on this subject matter.
(2) Everything he did, he planned out in advance and thought out piece by piece what he needed to do to ensure he benefited from it. He claimed that every single thing he did from walking to stopping by the store had to follow a play-by-play, and when things didn’t go as planned, he didn’t like it, it took him out of his comfort zone, and it made him very uncomfortable. Ben had this “ideal” of how things were supposed to be – his ideal mate, his ideal job, his ideal home location, his ideal everything. If something didn’t meat this ideal – his big picture – his “big cheese” picture as he occasionally joked – it was worthless to Ben. Ben stated all the time that he had to live his ideal future one day, if not, he’d never find happiness.
(3) He viewed others as “assets” or “liabilities,” those are my words, however. Ben admitted that everything he did was to benefit himself in the end; every action he took, he took only after considering how it would benefit him in some way; he didn’t do anything selfless, he’d love to claim to be selfless in all he did only that wasn’t at all thetruth, you can’t be selfless and keeping reality hidden to all but yourself. He always did things so that he’d see some return in the future. Ben’s coveted “inner circle” of “friends” whomever they might be were objects whom he pawned and played based on the benefit they’d bring him. Ben didn’t view people as people, he viewed them as extensions of himself, things he could exploit to his advantage or instead demolish. In the end Ben it was obvious to me that Ben knew right from wrong but that he honestly couldn’t give 2 shits about it.
He chose to do right, he chose to do wrong, but he did so to prove a point; points aside, all his choices would be made based on what benefited him the best (that he could get away with).
(4) Ben lacked empathy, remorse, guilt and love; he’ll deny this until the day he dies, however. But he admitted that his emotions were different than mine, and different from other people’s, also. He’d frequently slip up and say similar in the upcoming months, he’d make a remark and then deny ever saying it. Then he’d later get angry at me for not remembering him telling me this – it was like I couldn’t win; if I acknowledged what he said I was crazy, if I failed to acknowledge it than I’d be punished for not remembering something of the upmost importance to him.
It’s like he expected me to understand his vague, ambiguous statements, read his mind and never ask questions to clarify. It was very confusing, because I could never read him emotionally; he had this uncanny ability to remain stoic at all times, and fake his emotions. He even admitted he had complete control over what he showed emotionally. Despite his attempts to “gaslight” me into believing he expressed normal human emotions – he said several times that I saw him crying for example – I never once saw Ben cry, never ever. Regardless of his statements throughout this next year about wanting to leave me – which in the end he claimed to have stated explicitly, time and again, instead he’d always be making plans with me and throwing in tons of statements about being excited to leave his boyfriend, being excited about the two of us finally being together and alone, and how much time and effort he’d invested in me so I would be part of his future forever. He became angry at me, though, for not knowing what was what; he couldn’t see that sending someone in 20 different directions in the dark wasn’t going to provide them with answers or clarity, only confusion. Ben could meet someone, read them instantly, and know intuitively what to project outwardly so that the other person found him attractive, interesting, or trustworthy. It was amazing, but true: Ben was a bit of a social chameleon, he could fit into any situation and with any people, as well. And every single time he fooled them into believing he was something he was not.
Ben refused to admit he was a narcissist; he always said, instead, that he had some narcissistic traits, “everyone does.”
Take it from me: when you and your partner, friend, or whomever begin using the word “discard” on a regular basis – that should be a major red flag that you’re dealing with a narcissist. In fact, if someone close in your life cuts all ties / communication with you, adding in that final “you’ll never see me again!” jab as if they’re some superstar, failing to acknowledge you’re even alive, showing no empathy or remorse for treating you like a dirty tampon, do not pass go, do not collect $200, no, don’t follow my lead and make the same mistake that I did. I still couldn’t reconcile these two sides to Ben; he clearly wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t an evil narcissist, not with his amazingly kind side to boot. I felt like he had some ‘narcissism’ in him – yet, I could in no way see the narc persona. I didn’t realize I was blind.
Always follow the advice of their True Self, no matter how much they protest and rage unless you want further abuse. It’s actually the best thing for them if they ever decide to look in the mirror past the lies they show the world (and may have come to believe is the truth)–and of course, it’s best for you.
Letter from a Narcissist’s True Self:
I have lied to you about nearly everything. I am not sorry for this behavior because I cannot empathize with you. I chose narcissism so early in my life that I never had the chance to develop a conscience or the capacity to feel remorse or empathy for the way I hurt you. Still. I know it’s wrong on an intellectual level. I just cannot feel your pain. Sometimes I wish I could, but I can’t.
I became a narcissist because as a child I felt too vulnerable. I was sensitive. I felt too much and most of it was painful. I was made to feel like I was nothing, a nobody. I was hurt, betrayed, abused, just like you. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t loved, or why I was treated with contempt and like I didn’t matter. I was also was never given a good example of how to become a good person. I never had anyone to model in a positive way.
Life was so painful for me I had to do something about it. Something drastic. I had to become strong and never show weakness again because my weakness was killing me. I was trained that being a sensitive person who feels compassion and remorse, a person who can love others, is a weak person. I know that isn’t really the case, but it was how I was trained. I was so young that I couldn’t see how wrong that might have been. I reached a point where I had to make a choice. In order to survive, I had to sacrifice my humanity. I didn’t want to do it, but I felt like I had to. I didn’t want to be hurt anymore. I had to sell my soul.
In order to sell my soul, I had to shut you and everyone else out. I couldn’t allow myself to feel too much. I couldn’t allow myself to be sensitive anymore, and that meant I could no longer allow myself to love anyone, feel anyone else’s pain or joy, or feel sorry if I did something wrong. I had to don this mask that I wear, which is a lie. In order to keep that lie intact, I had to treat others badly. I had to diminish you to prop my false self up. I had to hate you in order to “love” the mask that I show the world, because if I didn’t continually prop myself up by making you feel bad, my mask of lies might fall off and expose the real me, a powerless and vulnerable child which I had to protect at all costs, even if it meant destroying everyone else around me. I am a bully but inside I know I am nothing. I act like I love myself but I really hate myself. I only love the mask I wear. I abuse you to protect that mask.
You can never get through to my true self because the lies I tell are nearly impenetrable. I have lied so often and for so long that I myself have come to believe my own lies. I am a walking lie. That is the truth. I will never let you get close to what I really feel. I don’t even know what I feel anymore. Most of the time I feel nothing because a lie has no feelings. But try to destroy my protective armor, and I will try to destroy you. If I must go down in flames, I am going to take you with me. I will rage and abuse you. I will gaslight you and tell you the most horrific lies about yourself.
I may seem nice at first or when I feel like the supply you give me is threatened or you may leave. I know how to get others to trust me–by acting like a nice person. I am good at acting like a nice person but I can’t feel a nice person’s emotions. It’s hard work to act nice because that’s a lie too. When you begin to trust me, I will start abusing you, because I must keep you at arm’s length and keep my mask of lies intact at all costs. Both the niceness I show you and the asshole I become are both lies. I cannot even access who I really am. I have forgotten. I just know that my true self is there, somewhere, and I can never, ever, let you meet them.
If you mirror back to me too much of the truth about me–if I become aware that you KNOW this mask I always wear is a fake–I will attempt to destroy you or cut you out of my life. I cannot afford to have the truth about myself revealed to me. Nothing terrifies me more than facing the truth about myself so I have dissociated myself from it. It scares me so much to realize how evil I have become. It hurts me so much that I had to choose this fake self because of what was done to me. I hate being evil. I really don’t want to be this way but I will never, ever admit that. I cannot ever show you or anyone in the world how weak and vulnerable I really am. But deep inside, I know I am.
I am still an infant. I never grew up. My emotional and moral development was arrested when I was just a very young child, so I only have the emotional maturity of a child that age. That’s why I can’t care about you. It’s why I must always have my way. Can a two or three-year-old care about YOUR feelings? Of course, they can’t, and like a toddler, I can’t either. I am like a mentally challenged person, only my retardation isn’t mental, it’s emotional and moral. I’m emotionally retarded.
It’s hard work keeping up my false self. I am paranoid and defensive all the time that I will be discovered and exposed. It’s enormously stressful to be a narcissist. It’s stressful and often painful, and I know I have sacrificed the ability to ever feel real happiness in order to never be hurt again. But still, I hurt all the time. You can hurt me very easily. The only way I dare show my hurt is by projecting it back onto you through my abuse and through my rages. I’m a bully because I always hurt so much. But I can’t hurt FOR you, only for myself. I cannot afford to hurt for you. I’m too busy always licking my own wounds and trying to keep the lie going. I will hurt YOU if I must to keep the lie intact. As I age, I may soften a little but most likely I won’t. I could even become worse. Don’t wait for me to change because I most likely never will. Once I chose this life, there was no going back. I chose darkness and once that’s done, there is no going back to the light. I sold my soul and there’s no way to buy it back but through the grace of God himself.
If you care about yourself (because I can never care about you), you must leave now. Don’t play my games. Ignore me and act like I don’t exist. Being treated like I don’t exist is the worst thing I can imagine, but if you care about your own survival it’s what you must do. I will destroy you if you don’t. Heed my warning.
There’s even a small–a very small–chance that you’re abandoning me and taking away the supply I get from you could make me take a look in the mirror for the first time at the lost child I left behind so long ago. If that happens, I will be in so much pain I may seek the help I need. Don’t count on it though. Even if I ever seek help, once I start feeling too much pain I will probably leave counseling. Feeling that pain is too terrifying. It’s easier to abuse my own mind (and yours) by keeping up the masks and lies.
Don’t wait for me to change. I won’t. Don’t play my games. Even if I rage, hold your ground. You’re stronger than I am. I will never let you know I know this. Don’t fall for my lies.
Better yet, leave now. Keep your soul intact. Don’t allow me to turn you into a shell of what you used to be or worse, a person like me, even though it’s what I want.