Any abuse is awful; abuse by a narcissist, in my opinion, is a whole other thing.
It gets inside your very being with its claws, and literally leaves scratch marks.
A narcissist lacks empathy, meaning they don’t feel, which means they will absolutely never consider how you feel, how they are treating you, what they have done to you, or what they have put you through.
No subject, no matter how painful, or inappropriate is off limits.
No blow is too low, no ill-treatment is ill enough.
Every single thing in a narcissistic relationship is upside down.
Nothing is normal, nothing is logical, nothing is resolvable.
A nice day turns to crap with the speed of NOS.
This is the type of abuse that makes you want to shout it from the rooftops, yet you don’t want anyone to know about it. You want everyone, and no one at all, to know what has happened.
I can still hear Chris in my head, because to this day, it never stops. The sounds of the horrific things he says to me buzz around my head like angry hornets in a nest. Even when I close my eyes, I can still see all the damage done. The triggers are as irritating as they are painful. The very sound of aluminum foil makes me want to come out of my skin. The smell of the purple Fabuloso cleaner makes my stomach turn because it reminds me of where I stayed when I first left him; I associate the smell with the turmoil of emotions I was experiencing.
I hear him calling me a ‘dirty fuckin’ tramp‘. I hear him telling me I’m a ‘piece of shit’. I hear him stomping through the house, slamming doors. I remember what it felt like to have his huge hand around my neck, always one hand, grabbing my throat when he didn’t like what I had to say, or when he wanted to make me pay attention to what he was saying. I’ve never experienced that before. I’ve never been in an argument with someone, and all of a sudden, they grab your throat. He knew that I liked it sexually, so in the beginning, sometimes he would do it just to be cute, but like everything else, he turned something I loved, into something that I hated. I used to love how big he was compared to me, but he turned out to be nothing but a bully who towered a foot and a half above me and outweighed me by two hundred pounds.
I have to put my phone on Do Not Disturb because I will be woken up all night with calls and text messages. I’ve been forced once again to change my phone number; I’ve been forced once again to move. Yes, the restraining order is still in place; no, he doesn’t care.
He won’t go no matter what I do. I change my phone number; he finds a way to finagle it. I moved an hour away; he came and parked his car outside of my house for a week straight. Fast forward 30 months, and eight moves, I was forced to file for a confidential address. His typical actions were to abuse me, lie to me, gaslight me, triangulate me with all the trash he mingles with, cheat on me, embarrass me, and humiliate me. Now the beauty of it all, is how HE is the victim. He is the poor soul whose son was ‘taken away’ by his ‘lying snake’ of a mother. He thinks I should be fine with taking him back. He wants me to have amnesia. He wants me to believe that he is the great guy that he has made up inside his head. He wants me to think that it ‘really wasn’t that bad’.
It’s like being held over the fire, slowly roasting to death. He wants me to stick around and be there for him to continue doing all the foul things he would do to me while we were in a ‘relationship’. He wants me home while he runs around. He wants me to spread my legs and let him use me, and act like nothing ever happened. I remember everything that happened between us, so it’s impossible for me to hide my disdain for him; but when I’m around him, he wants the same happy and carefree person he met back when we first started dating.
She doesn’t exist anymore.
I feel like he has eroded my psyche, smirking as he sees me come apart. It seems crazy that someone could be so obsessed with you, that it actually makes you scared to stop contact with them out of fear that if he really doesn’t have any contact with you, what lengths will he go to, just to make sure he knows where you are and what you’re doing. The cheater tells me that he will kill anyone I am ever with, but him fucking and flirting with everything within an hour radius is A-OK. I just want him gone; he refuses to go.
A couple weeks ago, at four o’clock morning, he sent me a bunch of links to two songs. One link sent five or six times, was for some country song. Of all the music genres, I hate country like you can’t imagine, which he is well aware of. Just the sound of it annoys me, the lyrics like screeching Styrofoam being pulled out of a box. He still sent it because it doesn’t matter that I wouldn’t like it, the point is, he did. The other song, something with Ashanti, a song that couples would ride to, and love to. I felt no relevance, in my eyes it didn’t mirror us at all. The closest thing I could think of in a song that would make me think of love like I’ve experienced would be Him & I, by Halsey & G-Eazy. That video legit looked like me and someone I rode hard with, and on, for more than twenty years. But Chris, the only song that makes me think of HIM, is that one by Big Sean with the crude lyrics.
Almost four years have gone by, and it, meaning he, has not let up even for a moment. Post restraining order, he has contacted me literally thousands of times. He does what he wants because that’s what people like him do. There is never a care, never a consequence. It’s like dealing with a wild, reckless teenager.
I’m thoroughly, and profoundly, worn out; so tired of all the drama…. all the fighting…. all the lies, all the harassment, all the bullshit.
There is no peaceful contact.
There is no civil visitation.
His idea of visitation with his son, is walking around the park with me as I chase the baby around and he half pleads for his family, the other half he calls me a whore. Our son has never been a factor with his behaviour. He will start shit, act a fool, play dumb, be spiteful; anything goes, whether his baby son is watching or not.
Chris tells me I’m wrong for what ‘I’m doing’. He says that ‘all he wanted was a family’ and he just can’t believe I’m taking his only child away. He refuses to acknowledge that HE is the reason I left, and HE is the reason I can’t just drop the baby off with him. Believe me, I wish I COULD just pack the baby’s bag and some snacks and let him have his time with his dad, but unfortunately, I don’t feel like it’s a good idea to drop my baby off with someone who clearly needs someone to ‘police’ him at all times.
This relationship, and its subsequent demise, have lasted nearly four years now; four exhausting, disappointing, painful, irritating, salty years. The only day that it was worth it, was the day of Jace’s conception, everything else was smoke and mirrors, a show of tricks and illusions, and deep regrets. I think back now, why I even stayed at all, why was I ever naive enough to think it would change. Why did I keep forgiving him, why didn’t I do back to him, everything that he was doing to me?….