Chapter #6 - What the Devaluation Stage Looks Like - My Story - Pt 1

 This entry is going to be difficult for me to write for several reasons: 

1. I do not want backlash of any type. Not for me, not for him. I understand I have a right to tell my story, but I don't want it to be at the expense of someone else.
2. I have children who are affected by this story and my healing should never come at the expense of someone else. 
3. For the very obvious reason - this is all a very, very personal story. I am a private person - putting it all out there is kinda scary. 

I'm going to do my very best to protect the identity of all parties - If you are a close friend or family member, there isn't much I can do in the way of keeping everyone's anonymity, so I have one request for all of you:

    Every person in this story has had the ability to move on and heal. I am writing it as a part of my healing process and to help anyone else who might be of benefit. I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that this is MY story. That means it's told from my perspective and no one else's. 

Having said all of that, bear with me as I speak my truth. If your version varies from mine, by all means, let me know, but do it without malaise. 

Thanks 

Even knowing that I lived all of this when I look back, it seems so... stupid. That's the only word that works here. Stupid. This is a stupid, stupid story. But the people in it are not. 

I was head over heels in love with this man. When I couldn't sleep at night I'd just look over at him and this feeling, a warm feeling - would just wash over me leaving me with such a feeling of contentment. Have you ever felt that way about someone before? It's overwhelming. Feeling like that never completely vanish. I think that's what makes all of it so hard. In the end, after all was said and done - he kept a part of me. 

I think this feeling is best described by a favorite author of mine, Augusten Burroughs, when he said, "Do not wait for the healing to arrive. It will never come. The holes will never leave or be filled with anything at all. But holes are interesting things." Think about that for a minute. 

Anyway, I digress. 

Things were beyond fairytale amazing. I finally found someone with whom I could experience that "love of a lifetime" type of love that I always thought was just for lucky people. In that moment, at that time, in that place... I was one of those lucky people. 

Then I wasn't lucky anymore all of the sudden. 

I was also no longer funny, intelligent, interesting, or beautiful. I was just... well, I don't know what I was, but I know I felt like I was just in the way- a continuation of the string of disappointments and sheer letdowns that had been the sum of his life. I never wanted that. I never wanted to be the cause of his pain - and yet, it seemed like that was exactly what I ended up becoming. This created a deep shame in me. 

Looking back, it didn't happen overnight - it happened so slowly and subtly over time that it seemed like nothing changed at all. I touched upon the fact that I had bared my soul to him earlier. He was, in spirit, standing right along next to me as my mother was dying and quite realistically the only light in a dark place during that time. I said I told him all of my darkest and most shameful parts of me because he didn't technically exist in my life (as an online-only friend) and it was safe, but why doesn't make a difference. He was one of the very few people who knew me - ugly side and all. 

And he used those things against me every chance he got. 

If I said or did something he found distasteful or stupid, he'd tell me that it wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault that I was raised by garbage like my mom. It wasn't my fault that I was brought up to live in social disgrace.

My mother and I had a very, very difficult and complicated relationship to put it lightly. I was so angry and hurt for so long I'm not sure I even knew why any longer. I shared a lot of those memories with him, obviously. One day he was upset with me and made a remark about my mother. I don't remember what it was exactly, but it was along the lines of 'your mother was a loser ad she ruined you'. I was so taken back - He'd never met my mother... never even spoke to her on the phone.  

When I reacted to the way he spoke about my mom, he looked at me like I was crazy. He said, "You said yourself your mother was a piece of shit." I did, in fact. It was just fine for me to talk that way because she was my mother. That doesn't make it ok for others to join in. More than that, he was making negative remarks about a woman he hadn't ever had a single interaction with, It made me regret sharing my feelings about my mother with him. 

It wasn't just in private. I recall a specific incident while I was pregnant with our son and we were visiting family. He had been drinking a bit to settle his nerves, so his filter disappeared, Once again, I have no recollection of how the subject turned to my mother, but he broke into the conversation and said something to the effect of 'Melissa's mother was trash, but we're not going to be like that, are we? I won't have any son being raised by trash." 

I had no idea what to say after that. My mouth opened but nothing came out. I must have looked as mortified as I felt because one of the family remembers swooped in and changed the subject quickly. I was so embarrassed... There was absolutely no graceful way to handle the situation. If I brushed it off, it would come across as being something that happened all the time; which, at this point anyway, it did not. If I started to get upset, it may cause an argument and further embarrassment. If the subject hadn't been so quickly changed I'm not sure what would have happened. To this day I am grateful for that...but no less embarrassed. 

The drinking became a constant. No matter what I said, he continued to drink while driving the car.... no matter who was in it. It was around this point that I started making excuses for him frequently. We rented a hotel suite for one of the boy's birthday parties and he drove a few of my friend's kids to their house, or the hotel, I don't know. It hardly matters. What did matter, is that my friend, the kid's mom noticed he was drinking and was livid. This was the first time I recall feeling shame.

When she made a big production out of it all, as she should have, I was once again completely clueless as to what to do or say. I actually recall that moment very specifically for some reason. I remember thinking to myself that my friend was absolutely in the right for her reaction. At the same time, I just knew that if I didn't take his side, it would create a problem. Hell, I was screwed regardless of what side I chose. 

So, I did nothing and was completely mortified. 

I imagine that 'nothing' came across as a half-assed shrug whilst regarding my footwear. That reaction was very out of character for me - I had always been outspoken and never hesitated to speak my mind. In fact, I knew then it was out of character. Ironically, I remember laughing to myself, thinking - women who explain away bruises must feel a little like this. But in my mind this wasn't abuse, abuse was black eyes and broken glass. This was just an uncomfortable situation. 

As time went by, things continued to blur my boundaries, and little by little, I lost control over my life. 

One of my sons was by his dad's house on a night when there were a lot of adults drinking. I was sitting at home and my ex was out delivering pizzas when his dad called me. The adults had apparently been drinking too much and my son's after was having a disagreement with his girlfriend - I couldn't really make out the details. Either way, one thing came across loud and clear - he was rather amped up and very vocal about how he couldn't take it anymore; he was going to kill himself. I did mention our son was over there, right? 

He'd always had a penchant for drama, but this was a whole other level of stupid. It was very obvious that my son was in the background hearing all this play out. All I could think about was how my son must be feeling at the moment. (to be fair, this one had issues of his own that I won't be addressing - well, here anyway) My son had a tendency to take on the 'responsibility' of his father - even to think about it now tears at my heart - but also begins to paint an ugly picture about my inability to make good choices.

My ex was still working and I was without a car. I contacted him at work immediately and explained the situation at hand and he dropped everything and rushed home to help. Meanwhile, I remained on the phone with my son's dad listening and trying to seem sensitive and concerned about his well-being. 

Once he arrived back home, I jumped into the car with him and we sped to get my son. I was still attempting to placate the boy's dad and pretend to be sympathetic to his cause. Once we arrived, I rolled down the window and told my son to get in the car.  As long as I live, I will never forget the look of panic mixed with relief as he got in. 

Once I was certain he was out of earshot, I immediately dropped the concerned friend act and gave him a look that would have revived a corpse just to kill it again. I looked directly into his eyes and said, "You fucked up. Who the hell do you think you are acting like some kind of high school emo girl and threatening suicide in front of your fucking son?!?" 

Although once again, I don't remember specifically, I likely finished my thought with something vicious and equally inappropriate and got back in the car. 

It was silent for a bit before m ex decided to speak up, offering his unwanted opinion about the display that unfolded. He was.... very opinionated. He turned to my son and expressed very freely his feelings about his father's behavior. I believe words like "white trash" and "loser" were thrown around. I want to say I interjected to tell him to stop talking about my son's dad like that to him. I want to, but I'm also greatly fucking embarrassed to admit that I'm unsure if I had.

My son, however, spoke up immediately to say, "You don't think I realize my dad is a loser? I don't need you to tell me that!" This, for some reason, was taken as a disrespectful thing for him to have said. Everything from that point on escalated so quickly that it couldn't be stopped. By the time we pulled into our driveway they were screaming at each other (my son was 12) and I was crying and begging them to settle down. 

As soon as the car stopped, my son got out of the car and slammed the door closed in anger. That was the final straw for my ex. Before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening, my ex ran up to my son, grabbed him by the neck, and held him against the garage screaming, "Don't you EVER slam that door again!"

I either yelled or grabbed him so he'd let go of my son. I'm embarrassed to say I truly don't remember a single thing that took place that night, but I do know from this point forward my ex and my 12-year-old son had complete disdain for one another. 

In between these events (these being just two examples), the man I started dating would return. He would be all over me and shower me with affection. This pattern of behavior led me to believe the problem was me; that somehow all of his outbursts and insults were my fault. I was treating him poorly, but try as I might, I couldn't figure out what exactly I was doing wrong. 

I remember the first time I thought that perhaps I had made a mistake - I was 6 months into my pregnancy. My 12-year-old had a baseball game and my ex was supposed to drive us there, seeing as I did not have a valid license to drive. An hour or so before we were supposed to leave, it became very apparent he had drunk far too much to be able to drive, so I told him I would drive my son, leaving my ex behind at the house. His drinking had become an undeniable issue - I felt that having him go with would only lead to embarrassment. 

I grabbed the car keys and started to leave with my son and suddenly my ex freaked out. It was standard practice that I take the car and drive when he didn't feel want to. I sometimes took it to work, the grocery store, or anytime he didn't want to get up early or leave the house, so to simply grab the keys and go wasn't out of the norm. For one reason or another, this was an issue. 

While he and I were arguing, my son and I made our way to the car. The yelling continued outside to the driveway. Once we got inside, I locked the doors so he couldn't get in and started the car, but the sunroof was still open. In most cases, once I began to take any action, the rage would sort of fizzle out - not like he was afraid or in the wrong, simply because he had lost interest in the argument. That didn't happen this time. 

As I started to back out of the driveway my ex jumped on top of the car and reached into the sunroof to get to me. By that point, I was acting solely on survival instinct. When he reached inside to grab me, all he was able to grab were the sunglasses on my head. I just kept reversing out of the driveway until he got off the car screaming he was going to report it as stolen. 

We did make it to the game. It never occurred to me how it would affect my son - my mind wouldn't let me think past the event itself. While he played his game I remained in the car and just cried. I felt because I was pregnant there was no leaving and worse than that, I was dragging yet another innocent human into all of this. 

That night was the first night I reached out to his family for help. They said they would come to get him and the car and bring him back up north where they all lived. That was when I panicked. I found myself not wanting him to go and said I would see how the night progressed and get back to them. Thankfully, he was asleep when we returned and the rest of the night was without incident. I sat up all night on the couch and cried.

The next morning I talked to him once he woke up sober about what happened and he was horrified - or so it seemed. Despite the damage done, we were all able to live the next 6 months without any major issues. 

This is where I'm going to stop for now. The purpose of telling my experience is not to make him look bad or laundry list all the things he did - for the most part, my intent is to show how I reacted to it all. Most people would have left after any one of these incidents. Hell, I would have left any situation like this in the past - but I wasn't me anymore. I was broken. I stood silent as these events continued to occur. I didn't stand up for myself or my kids. I explained away and justified everything to anyone who witnessed it. I would silently wish he would just wait until we were alone to belittle me. 

This is just a small glimpse of what devaluation looked like in my experience. I thought at the time it was all attributed to his drinking, and I'm sure quite a bit was. The things he would do and say were very subtle when he was sober. He was also using K2 (also known as 'spice') then. For those of you who don't know what it is, you can read a bit about it here. From what I have seen, the substance is as addictive as heroin and the withdrawal, in his case, was similar to it as well. I firmly believe it caused psychotic episodes for him and don't think he ever really returned to his prior self after he quit using it. 

Because of those factors, I was even more confident things could be amazing once more - he just needed help to get sober. He wasn't the only one who was forever changed by these events - I would never be the same either. My sense of self-worth, my confidence, and even how I processed the words and actions of others were deeply affected. I'm not sure I was ever fully restored to my former self. 

Chapter #5 - Stage 2 - Devaluation - Trauma Bonds

In Chapter #4, we talked about the second stage in the narcissistic cycle of abuse, devaluation, with a focus on gaslighting. If you somehow missed it, click here. 

Although each chapter can be read as a stand-alone, reading both provides far more information on the devaluation stage in the narcissistic cycle of abuse.  The order you choose to read them doesn't matter, I just happen to think the order they were written in makes the most sense... well, to me anyway. 

By now, I'm sure the biggest question readers who have not experienced this cycle is... What the hell is wrong with you? Why on earth did you stay? How did you allow any of that to happen?!?!

That's a fair question. In fact, it's one I asked myself many, many times. 

The answer? Trauma Bonds.

What is a Trauma Bond?

According to this Wikipedia entry, trauma bonds (aka traumatic bonds) are emotional bonds that arise from a  recurring, cyclical pattern of abuse perpetrated by intermittent reinforcement through rewards and punishments. This s similar to Stockholm Syndrome or Pavlovian Conditioning.

Trauma bonding is actually a result of one of the four survival mechanisms. Dr. Robert R. LaRusso describes these mechanisms as "innate basic survival 'computer-like' programs" He describes these four mechanisms as Feeding, Fight/Flight, Reproduction, and Immune System.

Dr. LaRusso states there are "factors that contribute to communication (neurological reflexes) breakdowns..." He lists dozens of these factors on his site and I encourage anyone interested in seeing the list in its entirety to take a look at his site here. The factors specific to our topic are abuse, emotional trauma, and environmental trauma. The existence of these factors alters the very core of the mechanisms themselves and how they function. 

So, to put it simply, in order to survive the emotional/physical abuse, your subconscious creates a bond with the abuser. 

In the narcissistic cycle of abuse, victims are occasionally rewarded with minimal love bombing. This ensures the victim remains a captive of the Narc, constantly holding out for the return of the 'good guy' who, in fact, never existed in the first place. Typical love bombing consists of the Narc attempts to express remorse for what they've done (think flowers for black eyes) and brings the relationship back to the honeymoon phase briefly, causing the victim to become psychologically addicted to their abuser.  

In my personal experience, my then preschooler said it best - 'My dad tricks us. He pretends to be nice, but then he isn't."

What Kind of Behaviors are a Result of a Trauma Bond? 

Definitely not healthy behaviors, that's for sure. 

Trauma bonded victims learn to walk on eggshells in constant attempts to keep their abuser happy. These brief returns to the honeymoon days in between attacks eventually have victims blaming themselves for the actions of their abuser. Worst of all, all those amazing moments they flashback to in their mind from the beginning were never genuine in the first place. The Narc is actually incapable of love.

Ironically enough, trauma, fear, and abandonment have been proven to increase those feelings of attachment. The more a victim is abused, the more intense the attachment becomes. Trauma bonds are just as difficult to exist in as they are to break. In addition to self-blame, over time, the victim will begin to agree with the hurtful things said to them and become deeply co-dependent, believing that had they done better, the abuser wouldn't have to punish them in the first place. 

Do Things Eventually Get Better? 

No. Not genuinely anyhow. 

When the victim tries to leave, the abuser will almost immediately revert to Romeo they were early on in order to win them back. Empty promises are often made, love bombing will commence once more. It may even appear as though they changed their ways for good this time. 

Upon each return, things only get worse. The glimpses of happiness are fewer and farther between. After years, many victims begin to see their abuser as the only one who completes them. How lucky they are to have this partner who puts up with all of their flaws! 

"Don't look for healing at the feet of these who broke you" Rupi Kaur

In Summary -

Through gaslighting and trauma bonding, the Narc keeps their victim in a constant state of confusion. I remember someone asking why I chose to stay in my situation. I said it hadn't always been that way. There was a period of time when we got along perfectly and I was treated like a prize. I had never been happier in all my life. I saw forever every time I looked into his eyes. Seriously, if things had started with nothing but the abuse, who the hell would stay to begin with? 

If the cycle isn't broken, the victim will begin to suffer from a variety of mental health issues - such as depression, anxiety, OCD, and more. In physically abusive relationships the possibility of serious permanent injury or even death grows. 

If you believe you are a victim of trauma bonding, please seek the help of a professional as soon as possible. Much like a chemical addiction, a trauma bond can be nearly impossible to break without help. 

It's worth repeating that victims of narcissistic abuse cycles come in all forms - it doesn't matter how smart or secure you are - anyone is susceptible, although people raised in abusive settings are the most at risk. If the only normal you've ever known is abusive, it is only natural you would seek it out. 

In fact, there are cases where this cycle continues from the Narc's childhood - it teaches them this is just how people behave. They are victims as well. However, in the case of a sociopathic or psychopathic person, these things are done purposely to simply manipulate and destroy others for their own satisfaction. 

I hope all of this has given you a better insight and understanding regarding the second stage of the narcissistic abuse cycle. If you have any questions or would like to add anything, please feel free to reach out directly or comment below.

Chapter #4 - Stage 2 - Devaluation - Gaslighting

 So, now that the love-bombing is over, what happens next? 

Devaluation 

According to Oxford, the definition of devaluation is "the reduction or underestimation of the worth or importance of something" 

Coincidentally, the use of 'something' rather than 'someone' is extremely accurate when it comes to the narcissist. I've said it before and will say it again in order to stress the importance - to the Narcissist you are not valued as an individual, only as a source of 'supply'. What that 'supply' is, varies on a case by case, Narc by Narc basis, but primarily it attention either publicly (fame, recognition, etc) or privately (admiration, fear, etc). 

The two most important vocabulary words for this stage are gaslighting and trauma bonding.Because both gaslighting and trauma bonds are huge parts of the devaluation stage of the narcissistic abuse cycle, I've dedicated each of them their own chapter. In this chapter, we'll focus on gaslighting.

Gaslighting

The term gaslighting stems from the American psychological thriller movie aptly titled, 'Gaslighting'. According to Wikipedia, it follows a young woman whose husband manipulates her into believing that she is decendng into insanity. Paula (the wife) was raised by worl-famous opera singer Alice Alquist (her aunt) after the death of her parents in London. Alice was murdered in her home during a robbery. The robber left without the valuable jewels he killed her for after being distracted by Paula.After the murder, Paula is sent to Italy to train as an opera singer herself.

Years later, she meets and marries Gregory Anton after a two week long whirlwind romance. He insists they return to London, where Paula has no connections or family, to live in her Aunt's vacant home. To relieve her anxiety in regards to her Aunt's murder, all of Alice's things are moved to the attic. That's when things get weird. She loses an heirloom broach given to her by Gregory, despite its having been stored safely in her handbag prior to leaving for the evening. A picture disappears from its place on the wall and Gregory says she took it, one of many occasions of her removing and hiding things, despite her having no recollection of doing so. She hears footsteps coming from the sealed attic, and sees the gaslight dim and brighten for no apparent reason. Gregory insists its her imagination. 

Gradually, he isolates her completely from the outside world for her 'own good' because her nerves have been acting up. he then accuses her of becoming a kletomaniac. When any one expresses an interest in her, he makes a scene... On the occasion he does take her out to a friends party, he shows Paula his watch chain, from which his watch has mysteriously disappears, Gregory 'finds it' in her handbag, causing her to become hysterical and he takes her home. Paula begins to believe she should not go out in public. He also convinces her that their young maid hates her. 

What Paula doesn't know is that her husband is really Sergis Bauer, the man who murdered her Aunt. He married her with the intention of getting Alice's jewels. He employs a cunning strategy to convince his wife that she is going mad, hoping to have her institutionalized, giving him power of attouny over her, allowing him to search for the jewels without her interference. The only thing that saves Paula is the intervention Scotland Yard officer Cameron, a childhood friend of her Aunt's from childhood. He comes to check on her one day and confirms that the things she is seeing are real and that she is not losing her mind, 

Now, without going much deeper into the movie plot (I recommend seeing it to anyone who wants much clearer depiction of what gaslighting looks like), let's take a moment to see how this would unfold in the devaluation stage of the Narcissitic cycle of abuse. 

In an effort to weaken the defences of the supply, the Narc begins the manipulation of the victim once they are 'hooked'. The victim will start to notice incidents of cruelty in the relationship. Little snarky and hurtful remarks here and there are easily justified, however. The victim often defends and justifies the behavior to others by saying things like:

        "He's just having a hard time at work, he doesn't mean to be like that."

        "I know how it sounds, but he had a rough childhood. He was abused badly and sometimes he just                 says things like that. He's just venting"

Often times, the victim will even take the blame for the behavior, believing their actions or words have made the Narc behave in such ways.

        "It's my fault, really. I was lazy and didn't clean up like he wanted me to."

        "If I had been more attentive to his needs, rather than my own, he wouldn't say such things."

I think you get it. 

When the two of you go out with friends, the Narc may suggest forgoing calories and having a salad 'for your own good, you've been putting a little weight on' or that 'going out for dinner was a good call. There's no reason we ALL needed to endure your cooking' 

Perhaps it is comes way of back-handed compliements such as 'You look amazing in that blue dress, it's a far better choice than the white one you were going to wear. I don't want to be seen with a pig' or 'You are so much prettier when you don't cake all that makeup on your face. It makes you look like a clown."

There are times where no kindness is offered at all - just cruelty. When asked why the Narc yelling so loudly, the response may be 'If you would listen the first time, I wouldn't have to yell all the time.' Eventually, everything becomes the blame of the victim. Why did the Narc cheat? Because you just don't give him what he needs because you are lazy/fat/sick, etc. 

Here's list of phrases used in gaslighting. If you're in a relationship or have been previously with a Narcissist, I'm certain you will recognize a few of these:

• Stop being so insecure
• I'm just joking
• You're making things up
• You aren't making any sense
• Stop trying to confuse me
• You never remember things correctly
• You have a very active imagination
• You're always trying to pick a fight
• I'm not going through this again
• Why would you let something so stupid come between us?
• You're making this more of a big deal than it is
• Get over it already 
• I never said/did that
• You never told me that
• You are confusing me with someone else

Sound familiar? 

It doesn't matter how intelligent you are, what your status in life is, how much money you have, anyone can fall victim to this behavior. Personally, I have a degree in psychology and it didn't spare me. In fact, I'd never allow previously (or will ever again) for anyone to ever treat me in such a manner. However, if told how stupid/fat/useless a person is long enough, they eventually begin to believe them. Why else would the person you love say such things? 

But why do victims stay with their Narc partner? The answer is because of trauma-bonding.  In Chapter #5 we will dive deep into what a trauma bond is and what it does to the victim. Once we've gone through both of these, I'll share my personal experience with them. 

I don't care what anyone says otherwise...YOU ARE ENOUGH

Chapter #3 - Idealization follow-up - My Experience

How the First Stage Looked in My Experience

Initially, my ex and I connected (of all places!) on Myspace sometime during 2006. 

We had mutual online friends and eventually, we ended up chatting. Fortunately for him, I was very eager to divulge my vulnerabilities. I viewed the concept of online-only friends as a safe place. You could tell them absolutely anything without fear of repercussion because you'd never meet them in real life... Well, let this be a lesson for all of us. 

Our relationship kicked into high gear around 2009 as my mom was dying. I was traveling back and forth between Illinois and Florida to spend time with her. This was truly an awful time in my life. While all of that was going on, I was also breaking up with someone. As I posted little updates about my mother's condition and things of that nature I'd get a lot of responses. However, the most encouraging were all from him. 

It got to a point where I'd wait for those responses; the banter. His words were so encouraging and sweet. He would call me on occasion, always pretending to be a military recruiter of some sort, and just crack me up. He was amazing. 

Someone asked me something about my relationship with him and it struck me... I don't remember the question exactly, but I remember (although we weren't together at the time) my response perfectly. I said our relationship was great at the beginning. He was so sweet and kind. It wasn't always terrible. That's why I kept coming back to it. I had never felt so loved in my life.

Our relationship progressed so quickly - we had only met in person two times before we decided he was going to move in. It was a weird time, honestly. I had two teenage boys, one of which had some dad issues, and was under the impression that he had a say in what happened in my personal life. He didn't want to see his mom get hurt so behaved like a little jerk to any man who got within 40 ft of me. I think both my son and my ex saw right through one another. This set the stage for a lot of conflicts. 

It was hard to determine a lot of the little pokes he made. We were both drinking for quite a bit initially, I stopped when it was time for normal life to resume, he continued. This created a lot of conflicts as well. He drank way too much. 

He disclosed a fair amount of information on past relationships; in which every single one he was abused or otherwise victimized, The women were horrible creatures who took advantage of him, were spiteful, even violent. He'd always end the tail with the same lines - How he feels so bad for those women, how he just tried to help. At least all but one - his most recent ex. 

She would call constantly, most often when she was drinking, leaving long, crazy, and angry voicemails. One day I decided enough was enough. I answered the phone and confronted her. What she said haunts me to his day.

"What do you do for a living? A biologist? A CEO? It must be something really interesting, that's the kind of girls he dates. He says I'm crazy. Well, I'm not." She started kind of crying at that point. She kept asking me, again and again, to ask him "how is your soul?"It was actually rather disturbing. 

We did everything together. We built an entire life together. We even planned to have a child. I took the extra income from my promotion and rented us a 3BR house. Meanwhile, he isolated himself almost completely. He didn't want to meet my friends, so anytime I wanted to socialize, he'd tell me to go on ahead, he'd fine keeping himself busy at home. If I made a quick call to 'check-in' he would get a little annoyed and tell me to go have fun and don't keep calling - he wanted quiet. 

It wasn't too long after that I'd realized I was living with a complete stranger. 

Chapter #2 - Idealization - The First Stop in the Narcissist's Cycle of Abuse

The cycle of narcissistic abuse consists of four phases, each one engineered to break you down.

1.  Idealization 
2.  Devaluation  
3. Discard
4. Hoovering

 In the next four blogs, we will explore those cycles thoroughly.

I've made the decision to incorporate parts of my experience in hopes to provide you with real-life examples. I will not be using real names and I won't go into the entire story, only parts relating to the cycle. 

I am also more than happy to answer any questions or clarify the content if you need. Part of my healing has largely been about awareness and helping others avoid similar fates to mine, so just ask. Now, let's dive into the material of the first phase.

Idealization 

From the first moment they meet you the narcissist has been concocting a devious plan to snare you in their trap. By definition, the word idealization means to put a person on a pedestal as a hero of some sort. In order to lure you into the trap, the narcissist has to use some sort of bait. This process is described with phrases like love bombing and the soulmate effect. 

In the event you feel foolish for succumbing to the charade, please know that you are not alone. We are insanely huge in number. You also aren't dumb for not seeing the signs either. A Narc does a terrifyingly perfect job while executing their plan. 

During this phase, the Narc will use a few tools in his ever-growing arsenal to achieve his or her goal. Let's take a look at a few:

Love Bombing

Once they turn on that award-winning charm possessed and perfected by Narcs all over the world, you will become putty in their hands. You will be showered with adoration and gifts. The Narc will wine and dine you at the best restaurants. You'll get numerous texts and calls to let you know they are thinking of you; that they can't get you off their mind. You will be complimented on anything and everything from the tone of your voice to the way you dress. 

The Soulmate Effect 

Everything about their actions will lead you to believe this is it! The love of a lifetime! This tactic will make everything feel like a dream come true. He or she will claim to have every interest you do, share every passion you have. Are you a devout Catholic? So are they! The Narc will share the same views on politics, social issues - basically everything and anything.

This is where they tell you they have fallen deeply in love with you - never mind the fact you've only known each other a few weeks. You begin to experience what you believe is deep intimacy and soul-deep understanding of one another. You've never known such a sense of belonging. 

This is where the real manipulation begins. By establishing a sense of unbreakable trust, the Narc allows you to confide in them all of your deepest and darkest fears and insecurities as well as your secrets. It is by way of these that he or she will target your needs and vulnerabilities. 

All of these feelings give you such an incredible high that you quickly become addicted to their very existence.  However, all of this is simply an illusion - an extremely temporary one at that. This is where your value as a source of supply is discovered and a roadmap of destruction is created. 

This behavior becomes erratic and less frequent appearances through the next phase - devaluation. They continue to come and go for three specific reasons:

1. To be used as a means to keep you trauma bonded - a bond that is the result of such a cycle of abuse. When the abuse begins, it occurs so quickly that you begin to justify the behavior or even blame yourself.
2. To keep you on eggshells around them, constantly trying to earn back your 'soulmate' to replace the monster.
3. To trap you into staying with the hopes of restoring that love you believe you have lost. 

By constantly returning to this behavior, the Narc keeps you focused on how amazing it once was and hopes of turning things back around. It's easier to walk away from a situation where kindness and concern for your well-being are never shown. If you have no reason to believe this person will never change there's no reason to stick around. 

This manipulation occurs gradually and almost without notice to systematically lower and eventually erase your boundaries entirely. You find your belief of being soulmates causes you to drop your guard so the Narc can gather all the info they will ever need to build the roadmap to your demise. By returning to the love fest, the Narc is able to continue to disarm and confuse you.

It's Not Your Fault

You're not a fool to have fallen for this technique. The manipulation is so perfect and seamless that even the smartest people with the highest levels of self-esteem fall victim as quickly and easily as you did. In my personal experience as a victim of narcissism, I found myself accepting of treatment and behavior that I had never previously or since tolerated - leading me to wonder what the hell happened? How did I lose control? 

This isn't even the worst of it. We'll dive into the evaluating stage in the next chapter. Hang in there....

Chapter #1 What Causes Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD)?

Believe it or not, Narcissists are victims themselves. 

There has been much debate as to how someone develops Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). Although some believe it's genetic, I'm personally not so sure. I supposed if pressed to answer, I'd have to say...sorta? 

It's not uncommon for NPD to run in the family, spanning generations. That fact itself would suggest it may actually be genetic, but is it?  At the moment, there is no definitive answer to that question. One thing that nearly all experts agree on is NPD is most likely a trauma response. 

Let's consider the Narcissist - they don't see the world and the people in it like others do. The Narc bases your value based on what they stand to benefit from you. They do not value you as an individual, as a companion, or a partner. They aren't able to form an emotional bond. The entire world is a sort of temp agency providing new sources of supply.

Childhood Environments 

The type of family environment an individual is raised in has a huge impact on forming who they are at a core level - it molds a child's sense of self and security. Loving, nurturing environments typically produce people who are secure, have high levels of self-worth, and the ability to form healthy emotional bonds. Children raised in hostile, unstable environments don't typically fare as well, unfortunately.

Narcs don't only victimize their significant others, they also mistreat and abuse their children as well. Narcissists are incapable of forming emotional attachments with their children. Typically the children are seen as a tool used to garner attention or further their need for superiority. 

Love is Strictly Conditional

When you are a subservient child who makes the Narc look good, you are showered in adoration and praise. Unfortunately, this is quite temporary. In fact, most of these children become to believe that nothing is good enough. Living with the constant pressure to behave and perform perfectly, children end up developing anxiety and lack any real sense of security and stability. You got straight A's. Cool, but did anyone in your class get an A+? Try harder. 

They are not allowed to explore any interests that don't garner the Narc parent status. Instead of being supportive of the interests of their child, they are only supported for high achievements. The Narc only wants their child to do things that give them bragging rights. 

This results in the child only feeling they have any worth if they are winning. In their adulthood, most will confuse success with happiness. This leaves them without any kind of self-identity and ultimately the absence of joy in any accomplishments. 

Devaluating and Unreasonable Expectations 

This kind of environment differs from the one we just explored. In this house, the Narc parent is usually irritable, easily angered, and has unrealistic (and sometimes unobtainable) expectations of their children. 

A Nawrc parent will typically pit their children against each other. They rotate the position of the golden child frequently and abruptly. While the golden child is healed in high regard, the other children are devalued and often shut out emotionally. Due to the rapid changes in the pecking order, these children are lacking security and spend their entire childhoods walking around the Narc parent and trying to placate them. 

This creates adults with feelings of inadequacy, humiliation, and shame. Think about the movie Pretty Woman. Richard Grier's character is a businessman who has made his fortune by buying up and subsequently breaking companies. More than the money, he revels in destroying the life's work of the previous owner. Why does he do this? Easy - because all of these companies are used as substitutes for the pure hatred and rage he has for his father. Then, he goes and gets himself in love with a hooker. This is a very typical narc move - they only show love to women they can "save" whore significantly beneath them in status. 

Both of these environments produce children who are never taught empathy or love for love's sake. In order to escape from the shame and rage, they become impulsive adults with high tendencies to become either alcoholics or drug addicts.

****

They are left with stunted development of real-self. Instead of learning who they really are and where their true interests and talents lie, they get off track entirely and spend their time only doing things they are already good at and could potentially earn them their parent's approval.   

As adults who often harbor those feelings of inadequacy and shame, they create a false persona who is superior to everyone around them. This sense of superiority is fueled and maintained by the devaluation of others.

Hurt People Hurt People

Justifiable or not - that is common with these products of the environments we've explored here.

When a child is not given and shown how to love, it leaves them unable to form healthy emotional attachments. Trauma has many forms - childhood trauma has a huge impact on how you see the world and view your place in it. This is a trauma response. 

This is why the Narc is a victim too. Don't get me wrong, it in no way excuses their behavior. Unfortunately, people with NPD feed on pity and sympathy and will use their past to garner as much as possible. Don't fool yourself into thinking you can save them - you can't. You'll never be able to.

Why? 

Because the Narc is incapable of feeling for anyone or anything other than him, or herself. You are a pawn to the Narc, plain and simple. In my opinion, the abuse and trauma from parents that form narcissistic personalities in these children are horrifying. There are many parallels between these environments and group homes (both can produce narcissists) Children who grow up without being loved are broken in the most horrible ways possible. 

So that covers the causes of NPD. In the next installment, we will learn about the abuse cycle and focus on the first phase: Idealization.

You are loved. 

Understanding, Identifying, and Healing From Narcissistic Abuse - A Blog Series

 It's been close to two years since I've posted a blog here. 

A very difficult and dark two years.

During the pandemic, my ex basically put me on the street and chose 'the other woman'

Without going into too much detail, as I'll be saving that for another post, after giving up everything and everyone I've ever known and loved for 40 plus years to reconcile with my ex after 2 years, I was put on the street, sued for custody of my youngest son, more broken than I had even thought possible, I learned my ex was a narcissist. 

12 years.... 12 years of signs I ignored or missed, excuses I'd made... 

Never before had I ever tolerated being treated poorly; I'd left relationships for much, much less... 

How did this happen to me? 

This series of posts are going to be published in hopes that I can reach someone who needs to hear this before it's too late, in hopes that I can prevent one person from enduring what I had to. 

Let's take a look at what narcissism actually is before we go any further. 

Chances are, narcissists aren't anything like the preconceived notions you currently possess. The common concept most people have of a narcissist is loud, overly or falsely confident, arrogant, and often self-centered. Well, that is just a small part of what this toxic persona really is.

There are two types of narcissists: the Overt and the Covert (vulnerable) narcissist Let's take a moment to review the characteristics of both of these types. 

The Overt Narcissist 

The Overt Narcissist is the most commonly known, yet still widely misunderstood type of narcissist. it's rather easy to pick them out of a crowd. For the most part, they are rather upfront with their toxic behavior. 

The most common traits of an Overt Narcissist are excessive self-importance, entitlement, arrogant condescension, grandiosity, superficial charm, attention-seeking, aggressive manipulation, negative put-downs, and one-upmanship. (Psychology Today)

In their mind, they are the center of the universe. There is nothing sneaky about them - for example, you might mention that you are having a hard time lately and feeling low. The Overtt response would most likely sound something like, "YOU are having a hard time? YOU?? I've been suffering for years, but you never noticed. Do you realize how hard things are for me?  Whatever you are going through is NOTHING like what I have to deal with!" or "Great. I'll bet you'll ruin the whole evening whining about your 'hard time'."

There is much more to it than just an arrogant, insensitive jerk, however. We'll go deeper into that later. 

The Covert or Vulnerable Narcissist 

The Covert is much stealthier than its' counterpart. Typically, no one notices them at all, or if they do, they would argue that they are some of the sweetest people on the planet. 

They possess a low-key level of superiority and are exceptionally judgemental. Most Coverts claim oppression and have the world view them as misunderstood, special, or victimized. These are the people who have story after story about how they were taken advantage of or used and then abused or discarded. The majority of their circle don't see the other side at all, they only see what the Covert wants them to see... the poor victim - and this is by diabolical design. It can take years before identifying them and even when you do, good luck trying to convince anyone else. 

As with the Covert Narcissist, we will go much deeper into how they operate later on. 

Up Next

This is just a brief introduction to this series of blog posts. We will be going through and explaining things like Gaslighting, Love Bombing, the three Ds of narcissistic abuse and so much more. I'll also tell my story of personal experience over a couple of blogs as a sort of roadmap on the long process of identifying, breaking free, and healing from the trauma.  

I'd like to encourage a dialogue in the comments in regards to personal experience, questions you may have - anything at all. The only rule is that there will be absolutely no shaming, negativity, or harassment to anyone at any time. 

You are also encouraged to share this series with anyone you think would benefit. 

I'll be taking part in a podcast this next month regarding narcissistic abuse and self-publishing a book eventually... I'll share all of that as it unfolds. I'd also be willing if any are interested in creating some sort of support circle in the future. 

So, sit back and get ready for the journey of healing and education we are about to embark on. 

You are not alone. 

You are enough. 

You are loved. 

Changes Suck Major Ass

In case you weren't aware, I returned to Chicago last week. I left my youngest son behind because he was safer in Minnesota than here. It kinda blows.

Why did I leave? I left because the man I love and had committed my life to was emotionally involved with another woman. He would deny it over and over.

When I told him I was leaving, he asked me over and over again why I was being so nice. I told him it was because I wasn't angry - I was just really sad. He told me to stay a few times because it was safer there - but not because he didn't want to lose me.

We spent the last two nights sharing a bed because I wanted to remember how it was. I cried a lot. HE did too.

Finally, the last night before my son picked me up, I told him that I would stay if he could show me his texts -without having the opportunity to delete any first - and if the texts he was exchanging with her backed up what he was telling me. He got angry and refused.

That in itself was answer enough.

We have still talked daily on the phone and he ends every phone call telling me he loves me. At one point, I said that I deserve to know the truth. I wanted to hear him tell me what the reality of the situation was. He danced around the question and deflected with stupid jokes.

So, I told him what I figured would have happened. Logically, if he wanted me to stay, he would have begged me not to go or proven nothing was going on. If he really wanted to be with her, he would be relieved that I left, allowing him the freedom to get back together with her.

But neither of those things happened. All this does is serve to confuse me. I asked what his end game was here- did he expect me to stay and continue our relationship while keeping her on the side? That neither of us would figure it out? Then what? How did he plan on being with both of us?

As it was, my mind was blown that she continued to stick around. What kind of woman would accept that her man was living with his ex-wife and that they weren't having sex? Who is that delusional?

Before he locked his phone, I texted her off of his phone. This is how it went:

Me: It's Melissa. The games have to stop. He's playing us both.

I'm not even angry anymore. I'm just tired. I offered to leave before this COVID thing...he begs me not to go. I don't want to play games anymore. I'm just tired of being lied to. You should be too.

Her: Don't ever text me again, Melissa. You are the devil. Go burn in hell.

Me: Oh for god's sake. You don't see what he's doing here?

Her:  Fuck you!!!!!!!

We are soul mates. Nothin can tear us apart. Deal with it.

Me: You know nothing about me. Only what he's told you. I'm sure he hasn't told you we are sleeping together regularly. Why would he? I asked him how he can live with himself playing games like that.

If that's so, why is he fucking me?

Her: Don't you ever text me again you crazy bitch.

Me: I could send time and date stamped videos if you'd like. This just needs to end. He needs to pick a side.

Whatever. As long as I'm here, it's not going to work out for you two. And not because I'm standing in the way. Because he won't let me leave.

Ok, so there's a couple things here. First off - she's 47 years old. She responded like a 12-year-old. Second, I was trying to be cool with her and let her know with anger that she was being as fucked with as I was.

I didn't have videos of us having sex, but she doesn't know that. How could she accept his words? I wouldn't take that shit.

So I didn't. My middle son drove 12 hours round trip to pick me up.

The ride was actually awesome. He started by telling me I had one hour to cry and be a little bitch, but that was it. Amazingly, I didn't use it. On a normal day, he would bitch about me singing along to songs and change them when I did. We actually played a bunch of songs (including Miley Cyrus and Backstreet Boys) at the top of our lungs and laughed our asses off.

I loved every minute of it.

I was supposed to spend the first three days at my ex's house so I could figure out my next move. Once we got in the car, my son told me under no circumstance was that going to happen. He was taking me to hotel where his girlfriend was staying (her family got evicted - long story) When I argued, he said that it was nothing against my ex at all - It was the fact that I was going to be a puddle of myself and I might, in a moment of weakness, get too comfortable there. I agreed.

So, now I'm here, waiting for my unemployment to kick in. I was fortunate enough to have enough money saved to see me through so far. When I ran out, magically, the state tax refund I had been waiting for months to receive came through. Apparently, the universe is looking out for me.

So, what's the lesson here? Don't deal with less than you deserve. I wanted to stay in Minnesota. I was happier there than Chicago - I still am. But, I could not continue to live under the same roof as a man who was in love with another woman. So I didn't

I could eventually get over him banging random women. But this was worth. He was cheating emotionally. He was emotionally involved with another woman. He wasn't even SEEING her, but he loved her enough to keep going.

I deserve better than that.

For years, he had the mental image of me having been a monster - that was how he dealt with my leaving. In the end, he said that this time, be would remember me differently based on my actions. He would remember me as a better person. For years, all he wanted was his family back. He got it but was so stuck on how he remembered me that he tossed it away.

The only thing we ever fought over was her. His response was always a cop-out. He would bring up something that I did years ago. When I would say that was irrelevant and to stay in the present, he refused.

So, what next? I'm not sure. Having been happy in living in Minnesota, being here again only serves to remind me how much I hate it here. I still have a job to go back to if I choose to return. All I have to do now is decide if I'm going to stay here or go back after all this pandemic shit is over and get my own place.

The world is facing something it has never seen before. this is an unprecedented event in the history of mankind. Everyone is freaking out. Now more than ever, we need to practice self-care. You just can't take care of anyone else you love if you are not taking care of yourself.

Don't ever be someone's back up plan.

You deserve much. much better.

You need to give yourself credit for the smallest of things. You got up this morning. You took a shower, then you got dressed, grabbed your car keys, and took care of business. 10 years from now, I'll still be without him, but I'll be happy.

Love you - Now love yourself.

Celebrating Mental Heath Awareness Month By Telling My Story

It was the darkest point of my life. Getting out of bed was nearly impossible. In all of my years, I'd never felt so low. My husband was going behind my back and keeping a dialogue going with his ex-girlfriend. My social circle was non-existent. It was too much effort to even answer the phone when my sons would call. I stopped do anything that brought me joy.

Each morning, I would struggle to get out of bed with my youngest son for school. I'd let him watch videos on his phone while I actually counted the minutes until the bus came. As soon as he left for the bus, I'd go back to sleep - usually until 2pm. 

If I had to work, I'd drag myself to the shower to get ready. If not, I'd do just enough housework to avoid a fight.

The days I didn't work, I'd be exhausted by 7 pm - even after having slept all day.

I stopped reading. I stopped writing. I stopped doing things with my son and let Fortnite babysit him.

I cried. I cried every night. Sometimes I cried most of the day. I came the closest to suicide I've ever been in my life.

I would think to myself - I can't even do that because I don't have access to anything I could overdose on.

One night, after ugly crying to myself and wondering why I wasn't good enough for anyone - I took a handful of Cymbalta that I had on hand. All I did was succeed in making myself sick for a few days. (Kind of a sense of 'you can't even do that right')

Even when I spoke, my voice was flat and completely devoid of emotion.

I didn't know how you call in sick to work because you wanted to end your life. I was unsure of what, if any, social protocol was in such situations, so I just went to work instead.

I didn't know how you tell your children how much you love them; how proud you are of them - how to express the absolute joy they have given you in an otherwise empty life - but that you just couldn't keep enduing the never-ending pain that life caused you - so I kept on breathing instead.

I had absolutely no idea how to end my suffering and pain without transferring it to them - So I didn't.

One night we went to a launch party for a children's brook. As I sat there, I looked around and started to get really paranoid. It felt like everyone was giving me weird disapproving looks and were talking about me. I had to stop myself and be logical. I knew no one cared enough to single me out.

Then the panic attack began. I told my husband that I had to go outside because I was having an attack and he followed me. I hadn't had one in over 15 years.

Once outside, I told him I just needed to breathe an have a little space, but he refused to leave me alone. We were close enough to home that I could have walked there, but I didn't have a key. Eventually, he went back inside.

I began to hyperventilate and fell to my knees in the parking lot, gasping for breath. At this point, he came back outside with my son to take me home. He was also beyond drunk.

I told him we needed to leave. He told me to get up because I was embarrassing myself.

He searched his pockets for the car keys and then yelled at me that I had them. He claimed he gave them to me. (he had not) I tried to tell him but he refused to listen. Finally, I dumped my entire purse in the middle of the parking lot to prove I didn't have them - but only because at that pint I was unable to speak. That's when he discovered the keys had been in his coat pocket the whole time.

Once we got home I was able to calm myself down. As soon as I did, he walked into the room and GROWLED "You're doing this for attention. Do you realize how pathetic that is?" That's when it started all over again.

That night I cried hysterically again, I sincerely did not want to live anymore. I terrified my son because he had never seen me in such a state. Up until recently, he hadn't ever seen me cry. I was his stability - the one who was always consistent. He wanted to take care of me. I did not want to wake up to see the next day. For some reason though, I did.

It as a few days later that I finally saw my new doctor and was put on a new regimen of prescription medication. That was when the craziest thing happened - after only two days, I started to feel better. I woke up in the morning with energy. I even stayed awake throughout the day, I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I stopped thinking of reasons to end my life and started thinking of ways I could improve it instead.

That was just a month ago.

Since then, I've been able to laugh again. I even went finally to get the tattoo I've wanted this past weekend. It says (in my handwriting) "How do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become?"

And finally, I have the answer to that question - we don't.

You can never go back to the person you were before the trauma, the tragic loss, or the heartbreak. That person is forever gone. Yur path has been changed and you have become a new you.

There is no need to forgive yourself because you were never meant to become any of those things. You were meant to be right here, right where you are now. Your struggles, your scars - they are what make you beautiful.

Much more than that, YOU ARE ENOUGH.

If for some reason someone makes you feel that you aren't - that's when you know you have strayed from your path. Rerouting isn't always easy, but you have to come to the realization that you are enough. It's the Universe telling you that you are not where you are supposed to be. It's only a harsh message because when the universe sent subtle signs you refused to listen.

I've told you my story in the hope of giving you hope if you are in the darkness. It's not a weakness to need help - I'm n medication and will likely have to be for the rest of my life. When I moved, the delay caused by having to establish new insurance and finding a new doctor left me without medication (which to be honest, needed adjustment anyway) for three months. All of this was made a thousand times worse as a result.

Without following my regimen of medication, meditation, journaling and reaching out to my support system I can't survive.

If you are lost - you can be found. Hell, if my crazy ass can get it together, no doubt you can! In Minnesota, where I currently live, there's even a crisis text line if you can't bring yourself to speak. All you have to do is text MN to 741741. Each state offers its own suicide prevention services. You can go to http://www.suicide.org/suicide-hotlines.html to find yours.

Text. Call. If nothing else - email me: majikmissi@gmail.com

Just please reach out to someone. Trust me, I know exactly how hard it is to do. The last thing I wanted to do when I was down the rabbit hole was to tell someone my story. It was too exhausting. What you need to understand is that once you do - that's when the healing begins.

I love you. Now, love yourself.

...And We Keep Movin' On.

After lots of consideration, I decided the best thing to do was to move out...and move on.

Because of who I am, I decided at the last minute when we were leaving and even worse - to pack. I spent my final night in Chicago saying my goodbyes. After 40 years of relationships and roots, the only people I had any desire to say goodbye to were my old boss and co-workers at the job I lost back in August. I grabbed my newly 21-year-old son and went to sit at the bar there for a bit and reminisce. It was awesome.

I got home before 11pm and took a tiny nap only to wake at 2 am to finish backing all I could fit into 4 suitcases and 2 carryon bags to take with us, leaving the other important things behind for my son to put in storage until a date undetermined. At 5 am we hit the road to the Greyhound bus station to take a 9-hour bus ride to Minneapolis, MN.

Jax was amazing for the long ride - I expected him to get cranky and restless but he did great. We laughed and talked a lot, truly enjoying the trip. It wasn't until 4:30 pm that we finally reached our destination and got off the bus to collect our bags.

When we got there, Jax's dad picked us up. This was the first time we had seen each other in a year. We spoke at length on the phone prior to the trip to work out the details and specifics. Needless to say, we were both uncertain about how things would go. 

We were together for 7 years and saw each other at our absolute lowest. It got so bad after a while that we couldn't even speak. Awful things were done to one another - hearts and trust were broken badly. But despite the crazy-making, there was always something there -something each of us carried independently in our hearts, refusing to let go.

It was a very emotionally charged 48 hours that followed. I was absolutely shocked by how well things were going. I still kinda am. It's been great.

Remember how I said in a previous blog that the universe gives you hints to guide you into change? Well, if you don't get those hits and refuse to follow the path, it will rock your world and force that change into motion. I am certain that was what happened.

Within 3 days I had a job - I couldn't find one to save my life in Chicago. Everything started falling into place. It seems life is easier when you stop fighting yourself.

Jaxon will be spending Christmas with his dad's side of the family for the first time in years - a family who, by the way, took me back with open arms. I'm happy. Crazy, right?

In the next blog, I'll be discussing the transition pains and the process of repairing a broken marriage. Just because you love someone doesn't mean it's easy. In fact, sometimes it doesn't even mean you should be with them.  But it's been a helluva ride since July.

"Of all the sad things I have ever heard, 'I used to be happy' is the most heartbreaking of all."
-Nikita Gill

I don't want to hear those words come out of my mouth ever again.

My Dear Little Girl...

I was given a journal assignment today in a class I'm taking. The assignment was as follows:

"What is the best piece of advice you would give to a young girl about finding her way? Often our life lessons can become her life manual.

Don't be scared to guide, encourage and coach others through difficult times. Just because you aren't perfect, doesn't mean that your advice cannot be healing for someone else."

What poured from my mind to the page amazed me: 

Wow. That is huge. I'd say - Don't ever lose sight of you. Don't let them tell you your dreams are stupid - they just can't dream as big and bright as you. YOU ARE NOT UGLY, OR FAT, OR STUPID. You are an amazing bunch of stardust that the heavens put together on purpose to be and do great things. 

They say these things because they are afraid to shine as brightly as you do. All the things- all the dumb reasons why the other kids say they don't like you? One day they will be the very things that draw people to you. 

You can never be too smart - But you can be too arrogant and judgemental. You can never be too different - but you can be too cold and heartless. Never raise yourself at the risk of another human being. The best thing you will ever be us you. You are enough. 

Kids are mean, baby girl. They don't like things that outshine them. Sometimes it's easier to try to dim your light than polish their own. It might not make sense now, love - but it's usually because someone is hurting them too.

Surround yourself with people who are kind; people you want to be like. Eventually, you'll find they want to be like you too. Learn to accept love as easily as you give it. Remember - we teach people how to treat us. Never settle for less than amazing. AND NEVER, EVER, EVER let another person determine your worth. 

You are a star shining brightly in the galaxy. Try to remember that the galaxy is huge. There's plenty of room for the other stars who are learning how to shine. Never purposely eclipse them. Whenever you can, help them learn how to shine. It will only make you shine brighter. 

Go with love, my girl. Be your destiny.

Hmmm. How about that? It's never too late to tell that little girl.

Love you all.

Goodbye, My Friend - Fare Thee Well

Tomorrow ties up the final loose end - the checking account. Should have been done a year ago, but it wasn't, so here we are. I really want it civil - kind even - he was my best friend.  Funny - two innately good people meet and absolutely destroy each other... That is exactly what we did, we emotionally destroyed one another. I guess that's what abuse can do to people. It was one hell of a ride though...

When we first met, it was electric. The moment I looked at him I knew it was going to end badly - that's why I blew him off. I'm glad he was so persistent though. We forever changed each other. I wonder if either of us fully understood the path it would take if we still would have gotten on board...

I used to think of it as a 'right person, wrong time' thing. It wasn't. There will never be a right time for the two of us - but I can't say he wasn't the right person. When two people like he and I get together it goes one of two ways: they eventually take over or destroy the world together... or they destroy each other. Maybe our past experiences damaged us so much that when we collided, we didn't know how to operate the damn thing. I'll never know.  I can say he is a good person and have it carry weight because I'd wager no one had ever loved him as much or ever been so totally hurt by him as I was - and I still believe he's good.

I knew it would go badly - I just never thought it would be so final. I always thought there would be some ties - family, friends... but there are none. I will never speak to him or see him again.

I want - no, I need - it to be on good terms. The last memory needs to be positive. I want to tell him I'm glad to have had this experience with him. I want to thank him for loving me.

I cannot offer things like I may in other situations. I can't say "I'll always be your friend" or "If you ever need me, all you have to do is call" because it would be a lie.The best I could offer up is "If you ever need me, look for the brightest star in the sky. Smile and I will be with you in your heart" and I won't say that either... because it sounds stupid as all fuck.

It will be strange. Sad even - but I won't cry. I've cried over him, over us enough. I'm too tired to do it again and there is no point.

I want to say - I'm really sorry we destroyed each other. I'm sorry we let it get so viciously nasty when we always swore we would never be those people. I'm sorry geography and life circumstance separated us so detrimentally. Most of all, I want to say I'm sorry that two of the strongest people I've ever known couldn't be strong enough to see it through.

But still, I do not regret any of it. I do not wish for a different ending or another chance. Every force in the damn universe screamed that we could not stay in that place together - that the end was in fact inevitable - we should be grateful that it was only this harsh... to try again would surely have meant bloodshed at the next stop. This one will do nicely, thank you.

Neither would it have served either of us any better to have broken it off any sooner. We tried that before and it left such a bitter aftertaste of longing and regret - so many what if's and somedays... At this point, there is no question. We were what we wanted; we gave what we gave - until there was nothing left. We now can finally move on unhindered. We can now peacefully let go.

Life will beat the shit out of you if you don't have a sound battle plan or the ability to truly roll with the punches and accept what comes unequivocally. I know this to be true because for a time, I had the best battle partner and we still lost.

I guess this is what they mean by people being in your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Although we may never know what the reason was - or even what fucking season it was -it is for certain it was not meant for a lifetime. But we were clearly neither a mistake nor an accident. The sun and moon do not suddenly collide one day by chance, taking the world by surprise all because some idiot forgot to lock the front door. There is a trajectory there apparent to everyone except maybe the sun and the moon themselves. The rest of the world saw that shit coming - scientists accurately predicted the outcome - but the moon was too distracted by the brilliant light and the heat of the sun to see it coming - just as the sun was to busy marveling over the mystery and cold comfort of the moon to pay attention to much else.

We could have been perfect, but not in this world.

I smile as I say "Thank you for loving me - goodbye my friend. You'll find what you are looking for one day. I will too."

I Hope You're Happy...

I remember once that the thought of not being able to share my day with you was more than I could bare. It's been nearly two months now since we've even had a conversation. I haven't replaced you as my confidant - I keep to myself.

Two months - so many things I've wanted to tell you - so many times I've had to stop myself from sending a text. Two months since I've heard your voice.

Four years, several hundred miles - and this is the longest we've ever one without talking. The impossible has become possible - manageable even.

So strange when I think about it. While a few thins have changed, most have stayed the same, you just don't know. The house is a little more empty without your presence in it. We still laugh, just not with you. We still talk - just about different things. we've kept moving - just in a different direction. I hope you have too.

I hope you remember  to never stay still for too long. I hope you're getting up on time for work and that your feet don't hurt too badly. Remember your worth, even though I'm not there to remind you.

I thought you wouldn't be able to survive without us - I was wrong. I didn't think we'd be ok without you - I was wrong about that too.

We talk about you sometimes - remember the good times. None of our eyes cloud over with sadness anymore. The lack of your presence is still felt, just not to the point that the world stops any longer.

You'll meet someone - I will too. We won't be able to talk about it, though. We aren't friends. Jax will learn so many new things... Just the other day he told me about a planet he learned about in a different galaxy - but he didn't tell you about it. Sadly, he didn't get tot tell his dad either.

Musefi - that's what it was called. Just out of nowhere he told me - it was so cool. I always figured he'd be telling you about these things. Hell, I thought he'd be telling his dad too. I was wrong on that as well.

But we're still doing ok. We laugh, we talk... you're just not here to share it.

I know I talk like you've died - maybe in a way you have - but only to us.

I used to tell you the opposite of love is not hate - it's indifference. It still is, I've just found that I couldn't be indifferent to you. I wanted to hate you, but that didn't feel right either.

I have hope for you instead.  I hope you're happy. I hope you're good. I hope you get what you wish for, that you're well understood. Whatever your progress - I know you'll be fine. I hope you're happy - even if you're not mine.

I'm saying thank you. I'm saying we're ok. I'm asking you to keep moving, find joy in things you normally wouldn't, and think of us when you do.

I'm saying good-bye - because we never got to. You're going to be just fine - and we will too.

Moving on...or Redecorating With Pony Poop

When I first moved into my dated apartment, it felt like home - like magic - so did he. The fact that it was a basement level of an old farmhouse didn't matter, the dirty grout between crumbling tiles felt charming... or maybe that was just the mold talking. At the time, I was wearing 'new relationship glasses', so none of that mattered. It was our home - a home we started together. 

Little by little, things started to shift. He was working out of state, a six week job that would become six months - and I began to unravel due to a pituitary tumor. Imagine being bipolar and multiplying it by 100... that was my level of impulse.

I began to focus manically on improving the house. I spent two entire days cleaning and sealing the time-greyed grout. By the end of that disaster, my fingers and hands were numb for days. Come to think of it, I need to do that again. This time I won't be outsmarted - I'll get a can of paint and a small brush. Fuck you, floor. Not this time! I hung pictures finally, decorated the space - got curtains. It began to feel homier. Due to the lack of sunlight from the basement windows, it gets depressing as fuck down here. Sometimes decorating and cleaning helps.

We broke up during that time. When he finally came home, we still lived together. We were only supposed to overlap a month or so, but neither of us left. 

It stayed that way for a little over a year. Life moved on, sort of. We continued to behave like a couple - I'd make him lunches and do his laundry; he'd take care of my son and fuck me like a beast. It seemed to work, sort of. 

As winter turned to spring, when the house really began to feel like a prison once more - he moved out and we started to call ourselves a couple publicly again. Without him or my oldest to clean up after all the time, I began to beautify my space once more. My youngest was embarrassed to be living 'in a basement', but with the improvements we both began to feel more at ease with it. 

I bought a ten panel room divider and made him his own room. I put up more pictures, some art and more butterflies. I bought a gorgeous grey and white area rug that consumed the entire living room. The place became a home, an actual home, for the first time in 2 years. I actually enjoyed the space. The little guy wasn't embarrassed by it anymore.

We inevitably broke up again, of course. This time, somewhere between his moving out and his moving on, it stopped being 'our place'. It's almost impossible to recall memories or events that took place because it all looks and feels so different. It became a home for myself and my son. I don't think about moving all the time anymore. 

I mean, sure - it's still a shit hole, but it's a shit hole we've become proud of. It's our shit hole. 

I could have stayed all fucked up like I did the first time - when I busted my ass making improvements but keeping the space generally the same - like the shit hole and I were on pause until his return. I didn't do that. I mustered up all he unicorn glitter poop and fairy dandruff I could find and made it different. I made it better. (I also had the help of Amazon Prime, to be honest.) So different in fact it made him uncomfortable the few times he visited. 

In doing that, I moved the fuck on. I just got over it all. I didn't end it and I have no interest in fixing it either. I can sit in my unicorn poop hole and see how much less bullshit there is in my life now. I inflated him so much in my mind (which was not a smart move considering how big his stupid head was naturally - had it exploded, no amount of grout paint could have cleaned up that disaster) I created an ideal he couldn't possibly live up to. I projected all of the things I wanted onto him and was devastated when he wouldn't or couldn't be those things. 

We do normal things now at the unicorn poop hole. We do homework after school, watch movies on the sagging couch (365 days of a big ass man sleeping on a couch can really screw up some springs and framing)  We sing, we cook, we dream. We have established a routine.

I guess what I'm saying is no matter where you are or how hurt you feel, you CAN move on. Once you start, it's hard - if not impossible - to stop. Maybe I'm saying you should glue a waffle cone on a Shetland pony's head and let it shit all over your house. Who the fuck ever knows? I did tell you I'm nuts.

Healing From Your Past

I don't get emotional like I imagine normal people do. My ex used to say I was full of shit when it came to being depressed - I'm always smiling and joking...

I'm not always immediately affected... When it finally hits, it's a crippling surge of emotion that nearly incapacitates me. I either do nothing but sleep or simply not be able to sleep at all.

Right now I'm thinking of a bunch of unrelated moments an tearing up because I don't feel those things anymore. I don't know how to describe that better - literally just moments where I felt elated, felt an overwhelming love, even if the situation the moment sprang from didn't make feeling such a way logical.

I think there have been times that I wanted to feel a certain type of love despite the horrible circumstances. These mini snapshots may have been my means of survival at the time, however, when my mind dredges up these snapshots in the middle of the night, they are hardly helpful; they are manipulating and confusing at best.

In the past, analyzing little things like this would have made me crazy. I will not let them ruin my present.

I think it's important that i recognize these feelings for what they were: I am not remembering moments where I FELT loved, or the joy or elation that comes from someone expressing love, respect or adoration for me. In these moments - which notably took place during the middle of the night as well, while my then partner was sleeping. I dissect the moment in which the feeling took place - it's not hard to force the logical realization that it's very easy to look at someone sleeping and feel a tsunami of emotion for them. When they are asleep, they likely are not degrading, insulting, manipulating or abusing you. Perhaps those moments were how my abused mind justified the reason behind why I didn't leave. It turned these unreciprocated feelings (likely formed for survival) and manipulated the memory into something it simply was not. It was never a moment of true joy or bliss, nor any enviable feeling at all.

Now that I can see it for what it truly is...was - it's not joy I feel. It's sadness. The poor girl in those moments of misguided emotion was so broken and abused by the object of her affection, yet continued to project waves of love onto them.

Seeing it that way now, I am not sad or feeling jaded that I am not feeling those ways at all. Quite the opposite. I am proud that I have healed enough that I do not. I am over the moon that my current decision making has not created an environment in my broken mind that deems it necessary to feel a fabricated, unhealthy emotion onto a sleeping human being who hurts me as a means of survival.

Dysfunction can feel like home. I accept the love that others give me now because I am worthy of it. I accept that boundaries are healthy as well as necessary. I will no longer waste precious moments guessing the quality of my life by comparing it to my abusive past. I take people for face value when they take position in my life and if I find myself unable to do that, I will deny that person the position. I allow myself to receive love as strongly as I give it.

Recognizing these self destructive behaviors, being able to identify toxic patterns and the parallels in thought processes has taught me what they mean:

 They mean I have healed some...

They mean that the cycles and patterns in abuse are breaking....

They mean the people who have abused me no longer have the power to hurt me anymore...

They mean that I am setting a healthier example for my boys...

They mean I am winning. I almost lost my progress, that is, until this realization rocked me to my very core. Fuck that. He doesn't get to win  anymore. I don't allow him to hurt me.

Letter to my Abuser

Hello again.

I'm through with you twisting my mind - making me doubt myself and my sanity. It's only the projection of your own insanity cast upon me.

You lurk around like a pussy, biding your time until you know I am alone, attempting to discredit me, defame me, in the eyes of the people around me. I'm crazy? A drug addict? A slut? Worthless? Oh, I make you sick? Why don't you come back when you've got some new material.

See, you can't hurt me. You can't bend my mind anymore. I've gotten stronger over the years. You have no idea who you are up against now.

You didn't know me then - never got over yourself enough to try - you certainly don't know me now. I didn't even know who I was then. Back then I was weak, I was broken. Not anymore. I know who I am now.

Is there anyone more dangerous than someone who knows their own mind? Knows both their strength and their weaknesses? I don't think there is.

Thank you. Although what you did was inexcusable, painful, and sick... It changed me. It taught me how strong I could be. It taught me I could heal. Once that healing began and I began to trust the world again the most incredible thing took place: I saw myself the way the rest of the world saw me... I saw myself through the eyes of the people who love and revered me.

Thank you. By accident, you made me a better mother, better friend - better companion to the person who will take you place in the future. I'll bet that was never part of your plans.

I honestly wish you no ill will. I nether feel hatred nor pity for you. In fact, I feel nothing. The opposite of love is NOT hate. It is indifference. I have become indifferent.


Melissa