I married a narcissist

Happy Friday evening everyone,

It’s finally the weekend. Are you ready to enjoy some down time or do you have some fun and exciting things planned? The weather in my neck of the woods is supposed to be on the rather cool side of things with a chance of rain. This could be a problem seeing that there’s a community garage sale tomorrow. I have a few things I’m attempting to sell so rain or shine, I’ll have my junk out.

What about you guys? What are you up to this weekend? Shoot me a text or drop me a comment, I’d love to hear from you all.

I bet you’re wondering about tonight’s title for the blog? Well, I figured the Universe must be leading me down a path right now because I keep getting notifications on my Instagram and other places about a woman’s needs when she’s married. I’ve listened to a few of them and boy was I triggered. Some of the content I heard made me stop and think how lonely in my previous life I really was. I was starving for love and affection and he, my ex-husband couldn’t find his way to giving it.

I think I’ve come to terms with the brokenness he suffered over his lifetime too. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point in my life, but I can honestly step back from the resentment I have towards him to feeling sad for the love he never got growing up. He was one of six children. He was the first son born and the third child. His mother almost died giving birth. The priest had read her her last rights. Somehow she survived and so did he. She went on to have three more children after my ex was born.

From the moment of her near death experience his father hated him. He hated him in silence because he felt it was my exes fault that his wife nearly died. He never treated my ex with any sort of love or compassion. He was labeled the black sheep of the family. This comment was openly made during the time my father-in-law was alive.

The day I married my husband his dad and I were sitting in a booth at Denny’s. We stopped for lunch on our way to Vegas. Of course my soon to be husband chose to sit with his two buddies he invited so his dad felt sorry for me and came and sat with me. That entire day was probably the worst day of my life but that’s for another blog. Anyway, on that day my soon to be father-in-law told me that he was glad his son became a Jehovah’s Witness because he was the biggest A-Hole he’s ever known. He said it was his hope that his son might become a better person if he was a man of god. To say the least, I was shocked by this comment. My father-in-law to be went onto say, “if he treats you like shit and you get divorced, the only thing you’ve lost is your virginity.”

Wow, just wow. Looking back that was so beyond crude, even for this man. I mean, who says something like this? A Jerk is who. First off, to talk about your son this way is just wrong on so many levels. Second, I was going to lose way more then just my virginity, but this too is for another blog.

Moving forward many years down the road to the near end of my marriage, in a last effort attempt to save our relationship I surprisingly got my ex to agree to couples therapy. I never wanted to look back on my life, on my marriage or on my divorce and have any regrets. The regrets still came along and on occasion they still do, but this too is for another blog. I needed to go through therapy and it truly was my desire to go through couples therapy so if after it all we still didn’t work, I could look myself in the mirror and say I tried everything.

During our 4 short weeks of couples therapy we were given homework each week. Every week on the day of therapy my ex would call me up and ask me what the questions were he was supposed to answer for homework, then during therapy he would tell me how the demise of our marriage was all my fault. Yes, all my fault. Comments like, “I treated you nicely, or I bought you a car, or I put in a pool for you. I let you take quilting classes.” These were common comments made during our 1 hour sessions. At this point I was already feeling like a total and complete failure. I was in a downward spiral and I was about to hit rock bottom. I sat through therapy pouring my heart out and instead of hearing my despair and trying to understand the darkness I was living in, more and more of my worthlessness was being discussed.

When the therapist asked us how our childhood’s were, I told him how I felt and my husband said his was perfect. There were no issues. I was too stupid to say anything. I was not wise enough to speak up and challenge my husbands statement knowing darn well his childhood was anything but perfect. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and accepted that I was the only broken one. I think I truly believed that I was the only one broken. I accepted it. I believed it.

There came a point on what would be our last session when I lost complete control. I hit the wall and lost it on not only my ex, but the therapist. I begged this doctor to help my husband and I to communicate but all he could say to me was “you need to move back home. I cannot help you unless you move back home.”

I broke down to uncontrollable sobs. When I could finally speak I told him how afraid I was to move back. I told him if I did that, therapy would stop and I would never be able to leave my husband again. That is, unless I was dead. I’m not saying my ex would have killed me. Not at all. What I’m saying is, when a woman lives under the control of a man, leaving him once is the hardest thing she’ll ever do. Leaving again, probably not ever again.

One regret and mistake I made during this time was to chose a therapist without making sure he/she dealt with trauma and members of cults who were trying to escape. This therapist couldn’t help either one of us. This therapist was the 4th one we had seen. The first one was my personal therapist and when I took my husband to an appointment with me per the therapist request, it was during that visit that I was asked to step outside the room for a few moments while the therapist and my husband spoke. Later that evening my husband said he didn’t like the doctor at all. He really couldn’t say why but he didn’t like him. He said he would rather me not go back, but I knew I needed help mentally and emotionally so I went back for another visit, my last visit.

During that visit my therapist told me that he felt my husband was a narcissist based upon their conversation. I didn’t know what a narcissist was. He asked me a couple of questions and when I answered them he gave me some information on what a narcissist was. I was stunned about the things and behaviors I read. My therapist said if my marriage had any hope of surviving he would like to begin to work with both my husband and me. Separately at first, then together. That sounded great. He suggested I not tell my husband anything about how he felt my he may be a narcissist, so I didn’t. Instead I told my husband that the therapist thought it would be good for us to work individually then come together and work. I told him with the recent flashbacks I was having and the memories that were resurfacing this would be a good part of my recovery and treatment.

“I don’t have a problem. I’ll support you, but I don’t have a problem. I don’t like that this therapist wants us to work separately. The more I’m thinking about this the more I don’t like him. I forbid you to go back.”

End of therapist one.

The next therapist I began to see asked me to bring my husband in after a few visits. My husband declined the offer and asked me what I was saying to these therapist to make them want him to come in. When I said it was normal to have the spouse come in so they could help with the treatment of the spouse who was suffering from mental distress he didn’t believe me. “I forbid you to go back. No more. You’re done.”

End of therapist 2.

Therapist 3. This was an outpatient group therapy program. At this point I had left my husband, but he still had control over me. I was required to go over to the house after therapy to check in, which I did. I had gotten to the point of the therapist asking for a “family” session. It was my choice to have my sons come too.

During my sessions I came to understand how certain things in my life where contributing factors to my break down. I had found a slight ounce of strength to agree that my sons should know about things that had happened to me as a child. The beatings I endured at the hands of my step-dad. The abuse by a babysitter. My therapist helped me see that sharing what I had gone through was hidden so deep down inside me that when it finally resurfaced I couldn’t handle it. Some of the bad choices I made in recent times were a response to what happened to me.

I went to the house that day afraid, yet deep down I was really hoping that with the support of my family I would be okay. Maybe my husband and I could work through my trauma and find a way to make us work. When I got to the house I sat on the couch with my ex and told him what the plan was to help me begin to rebuild. Tears running down my face. My hands and legs were shaking with fear.

“You will not tell our sons anything do you understand me? They have no right to know anything. You will not say a word to them and no, we will not go to therapy with you. You are worse now then before. You’re done with this.”

I finished out the week with therapy and never went back. The day after this talk with my husband, during therapy when it was my turn to talk, I just said I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t do therapy and I couldn’t do life. I felt so alone and lost and I didn’t see a way out. I wanted to die.

Those words spoken were not taken lightly. I was asked to meet with two other therapist who talked with me at great lengths to the point I didn’t check in at home on time. That was a rock bottom sort of day. I was nearly committed, but I wasn’t because I knew I could never take my own life because I couldn’t ever do that to my sons. I came so close to being checked into a psych ward. I’ve never been that close again. I’m thankful the therapist were able to decern my pain yet knew the amount of love I had towards my children. They knew my love would keep me alive.

I’m not crazy nor have I ever been crazy by definition. I was in so much emotional and mental anguish and I didn’t know how to handle life anymore. Therapy is and was a huge part of my healing.

Let me say this before continuing. If you or someone you know is struggling mentally get help NOW!!! There is no shame in asking for help. It’s okay to ask for it and believe me when I say that mental health struggles are more common then people want to admit to. Mental health use to be a worse taboo then it is now, but mental health is still looked down upon and it shouldn’t be.

If you are in a place of wanting to harm yourself or anyone else, please seek immediate medical attention. You can also call 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline 24/7. Please make the call now.

Back to the blog:

“Imagine coming to the realization that the person that you married, the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with, is neither capable or has the desire to love you. Imagine that the person has no care or compassion for your difficulties or trials. Imagine realizing that your whole relationship was a farce and the only thing they feel for you is contempt. That’s what it’s like for the victims who married a narcissist or sociopath.”- Maria Consiglio.

On more then one occasion, especially during the blame game, my husband said to me and to others, “we never fought.”

We didn’t. I mean, we did a couple of times when we first got married but I learned early on not to challenge or fight back so I didn’t. He saw this as a good relationship. I saw this as doing as I was told. I was pretty good at that. I always did as I was told. I was taught this from infancy. Do as your told. That was my role and this was the expectation placed upon me.

“Narcissistic abuse, worse then it felt. Some narcissistic relationships are not full of fighting, screaming and outward cruelty. Some victims experience the abuse like the frog in a pot of water as it slowly gets hotter. Gaslighting, passive aggressive control, manipulation, guilt, shame are the invisible weapons of this type. Destroying your beliefs, your confidence, your power. Covert narcissism.”-Tracy A Malone.

These things about the life I lived were not obvious at the time. They were my norm. I had always lived with guilt, shame, being manipulated and I can’t remember a time where I had any sort of confidence at all. I had no power and I never thought twice about it. I was the definition of a submissive wife, after-all, that’s how a true woman of God was to be.

I’ve learned so much over the last 8 years and so much of what I’ve learned about love, being loved and my relationship with my creator has evolved into a beautiful thing.

I still get triggered and sometimes I don’t’ recognize my triggers right away. I am one of the lucky ones that has found love on the outside of a high controlling, narcissistic religion and marriage. I am lucky to have John, not only in my life, but in my corner loving me, supporting me and encouraging me. He never judges me for the life I lived and he gives me the freedom to express myself and when I have an off day, he’s right there telling me it’s okay. He reassures me when I can’t find anything to like about me. He was brought into my life by God.

When I begged God to let me feel what it’s like to know love, feel love and be made loved to, if only once in my life, He gave me so much more. He gave me John.

“When you love a girl that has lived trauma, when she realizes that you are choosing to love her and not hurt her, she will love you back with the same kind of tenacity that it took to walk through fire.”-Tracy A. Malone.

Sad, there are some days when my mind wonders why John chose me and continues to choose me. He will never hurt me. He will never walk away. The trauma does resurface from time to time and I need to work through it like I’ve had to do several times since remembering it. The only difference this time around, I won’t have to walk through the trauma alone ever again. John won’t let me.

“Trauma-A girl who has lived through trauma has lived through a situation where her body, her mind, her self was not her own. Where she felt disjointed, ripped from her self, safety and sanity. It was a moment, an experience, a something where her trust was smashed, her worth was gone and all there was was pain.”-Tracy A. Malone.

I know what it’s like to feel alone and alone sometimes takes control of who we are. I’m here to tell anyone reading this today, you don’t ever have to feel alone again. You have a community now that will help you through the hard times. Just reach out.

You can email me at “lovelifewithdawna@gmail.com.”

I’m no expert in mental health, only with my own and even now I struggle. I’m not a doctor, a therapist or any other sort of medical expert. I’m simply someone whose lived through abuse. Many types of abuse and I know how hard it is to say I need some mental health help.

I want to bring more awareness to this very topic. It needs to be accepted and not tabooed anymore. Young children are now suffering from mental health issues. Mental illness doesn’t make you weak or weird, it makes you human. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to talk about it. If someone can’t accept you for who you are in your most authentic self, then the problem is theirs, not yours.

Seek the care you need. I promise you, over time you will feel better. Things get better with the proper help. You can learn to manage your rock bottoms. It won’t be easy but with help, you can live the life He has planned for you.

If you can I am asking you if you are a struggling, take the hardest step you possibly can in this moment and reach out to someone for help. You are so worthy of living life and loving life. You are worthy of having the best life possible and we all need a little help from time to time.

My dear readers, this has been a rather long blog and there’s so much more I could share, but I’ll save it for another time.

It’s getting late and with this heavy of a subject matter, it’s probably best to say goodnight for now.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking your valuable time to read and stay with me this long. You make my writing so enjoyable, especially with all the feedback I get from you.

Good night, sleep tight and until next time, don’t forget, Love Life++ Hugs.