Narcissism: Should I Leave Part III

Good Morning!

Digging a bit deeper today on the topic of Leaving a Narcissistic Relationship.

One thing I want to add to this post is that in no way should anyone feel pressured to leave a narcissistic relationship before you/they are ready. When it is ENOUGH you will know. When it becomes too painful to stay – it’ll be your time.

On Friday, I’ll be sharing the final part of leaving.

If you have any tips to add or anything that I left out, please feel free to leave it in the comments.

All love.

Ashley

Narcissism: Should I Leave? Part II

Today’s post is all about the ugliness that comes from leaving a narcissistic relationship.

Jerry was the first one I left. There was no “easy way” for me to do it. I was still in love. Yet, I was exhausted. My tank had been empty for a looooooong time. No reciprocity. I was lonely, depressed, not heard, not seen. It was awful. So, I martyred myself. I ripped the bandaid off by sleeping with an ex-boyfriend. Once I did (I also lied to Jerry about it), it was over. For as much as Jerry cheated on me, it took me doing it one time to crumble his fragile ego. He couldn’t believe I would do that to him – eyeroll. I killed myself for us. So, I became worthless to his ego.

The second one, far more fantastic. Cameron was much more a textbook narcissist. He was prone to alcoholic rages and would get angry and combative often. The final straw – he drunkenly punched me in the face. Eventually, the cops got involved (they did nothing). I became even more depressed + self-harm, went to therapy, and never looked back. Ironically, Jerry was very physically supportive during this time. Emotionally not so much.

Leaving is never easy, even in a healthy relationship. We’ve made investments. Commitments. We have hopes & dreams.

The thought that aided me the most during these times: knowing I am going to die. Knowing this is my one time on this planet. Knowing that I control my life. If I am suffering in a relationship, I must choose differently. Notice all the I’s.

Per usu, please like, share, comment. This is the shit part and the most helpful for anyone who finds themselves in these circumstances.

All love.

Ashley

8-15-2020 Post

 

 

My daughter is currently obsessed with shadows. We often play a game, when we’re outside, in which I make her shadow “disappear” simply by casting my obviously larger shadow over hers.

In my twenties, I unknowingly played this game all the time. I dated people who casted larger more complicated shadows and I constantly disappeared into their shadows. Now, it took YEEEEEEARS of work to identify while I disappeared in those casted shadows, it also became an uncomfortably comfortable spot to hid. Top that with feeling unseen and man, what a casserole of irony, huh? 

This all was an unintentional creation. I didn’t consciously scheme to have this be my plight. I dated people with large wounds and I wanted to love them so much that they started loving themselves and seeing in themselves what I saw in them. And y’all can guess exactly how that turned out. Or you can read anything I write about because I talk about it all the damn time. I was lost in the sauce. Searching for love and some sort of completion external of me; through my boyfriends. With the beauty of hindsight, I was giving all the love I was seeking a way to people I felt needed it more. Never factoring in that they wouldn’t be capable of reciprocating love because they didn’t even have it for themselves. So I eventually found myself out of gas with no one to help me out. DISAPPOINTED.

Coming out of the shadows, means casting light which exposes EVERYTHING. It means dusting yourself off, getting burned, and finally seeing yourself, for better and for worse. While I was definitely on the receiving end of a lot of terrible crap, being in the shadow didn’t allow me to see myself as anything other than a victim. Someone who was at the mercy of another person’s actions. I never fully realized that I could move out of the shadows – I literally had to be forced out. 

And it’s the best thing that has ever happened. I am grateful every day for the opportunity to see myself more clearly. I’m grateful to all the boyfriends who unknowingly taught me more about myself than I could’ve ever imagined knowing. 

If this resonates with you, let me know. As always, feel free to share – it helps according to marketing people. 

All love. 

Ashley

Interlude

I am interjecting my own story to provide a bit of an interlude after talking to my editor: 

I am fervently working on revising Part IV. My feedback, from my editor was the piece “was too on the fence.” I was trying to make sense and justify Jerry’s behavior instead of calling it as it was. That’s how you stay in a boo boo relationship for eight years. I revised half of it last night. Annnnnd its taken quite a turn. So, I’m inserting this so my intentions are clear – because I know he’s going to read it; not comprehend it *cough* 

This story above all is an illustration of my self love. 

It highlights the humanness of my existence. Highlights the karmic work I have to do. 

I have compassion and love for Jerry and his humanness. So much so, that using his cover name “Jerry” makes writing this feel a tad insincere.

I am aware ego is the strongest voice in this story. My reasoning, balance. I have spent years in my head and heart sorting out all of this out. Growing from it. Learning from it. Sharing it with Jerry. Trying to understand why I care so deeply about someone who has never taken the time to understand me, to see me. 

I know there are plenty of people who can not see me or hold space for me, and that’s perfectly fine. Compartmentalize me how you will. Know I am here if you need space.

I need a space to laugh about this. Space to laugh at the absurdity. The absurdity which makes this story so human. I need a space to see that regardless of my active compassion and love for Jerry that hurt happened in our relationship and that hurt was never mended. Most of my stories have been about the ugly side of Jerry and the reason for that is writing is my cope for my undressed wounds. Ironically, what Jerry hates about what I say, is really about Jerry hating what he has done. With these stories I carve a simple space which allows me to provide the compassion and love I yearned for from him and never got, to give it to myself. A space to heal.

To Jerry, I am in the wrong either way. If I love sincerely, I am wrong. If I use my voice and don’t advert my eyes, I am wrong. Instead of staying true to Jerry, I am being true to myself.

I do not want to be together with Jerry. I simply want the pain to go away. That’s why I talk about it. Write about it.

He could not say sorry and I did not leave. 

I am grateful to Jerry everyday. He taught me how to love endlessly. He has taught me that although I can give my love easily, I must be thoughtful where I place it. He has shown me the duality of love and fear. He has shown me how critical it is to grow and where I need to grow. He has taught me how to let go. How to hold on. He has shown me my strength. He has given strength to my voice and my personal value. He has taught me compassion. He has shown me that we cannot heal anyone but ourselves and more importantly at our own time. Behind my words on this page, there is a well so deep that is rooted in nothing but love and gratitude of which Jerry has been on the receiving end since the day I met him and remains firmly in place today.