Hot Coals Burn Just As Much
After a narcissist is “out” of your life, the silence is hard. My body got so used to the constant stream of attention, so when all of it was gone, even for a short time, I craved that familiarity. I felt numb without my nightmare.
Some times Carl would wiggle his way back into our old room. I let him sleep at my house even though he was living at her house. The girl from the texts.. (part two)
I couldn’t tell people what was going on, I was so addicted to the pain. I felt like they were tired of hearing about it. They couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just walk away and I really didn’t blame them.
When that isolated feeling started to creep in, I would text him. He had become the only person who understood our life, I couldn’t let him go.
That’s right fellow humans, I would reach out to him. The few minutes of sweet became become worth the familiar pain. I needed the darkness of my nightmare.
So instead of telling anyone the truth, I created a new facade to save face. I started flirting and trying to date, I started going back out to the bars, trying to build this hard exterior. Living in this lie was exhausting.
None of the people I was meeting would fill the empty spaces in my day that were typically filled with him.
My saving grace was meeting Sara, she changed me life.
Carl and I met Sara at the same time. She worked at our favorite marijuana collective and she was a bright ball of light. Her laugh, smile, and energy pulled me in.
It felt like she could instantly see straight through Carl and the situation. She quickly became my safe place. I stayed in constant contact with her, she helped me fill in those empty space by keeping room for my emotions. I had no idea how far away I had drifted from reality.
She did her best to help me heal and never judged me when I pulled back. She stayed a consistent, loving and understanding human in my life. I learned what emotions were in general and that all of mine were valid. I was allowed to grieve my nightmare and heal at the same time. She listened to it all and gave me strength, wrapping me in a protective blanket of love.
Even as she helped me slowly fade out of my nightmare, I had the compulsion to respond to him. He needed to hear that our relationship failing was a mutual situation and I needed to avoid the repercussions at all costs. I agreed so many times that his cheating was a reaction to my depression, I believed it.
I used to get so mad at myself.
A psychology major, specifically criminal and abnormal psychology, couldn’t see a narcissist right in front of her?! I knew what a narcissist was, what they did and how they manipulated others, but I didn’t see it in him. All I saw was a hurt and distrustful individual who needed someone to help him feel loved. I needed him to be happy again. This time with out me.
Of course, that wasn’t an option for him.
He FaceTimed me in 2016. Part of me felt a twinge that I had mistaken for excitement, so I answered. It was pitch black but I could see a little of his face from the phone light. He was whispered something and hung up quickly.
He was calling me while she slept next to him, texting me compliments and sweet nothings. I couldn’t imagine all of the times he had done that to me.
Obviously he was in need of attention and was expecting to get that from me. He knew exactly what to say to make me feel bad for him, playing my heart strings like a violin. I slipped back into the scared pleaser and doted on his sadness.
I needed to make him feel better, for him to be happy and I tried for a long time. It wasn’t until I moved out of town that I started to see, he couldn’t be happy. I think he realized early on that if he was having a hard time, I would come running. So I had to stop running towards him and start running away.
I moved 4 hours away in 2015, keeping my destination a secret. In 2018, I moved states. Our last conversation was in 2020 through someone I thought was my friend.
A mutual friend was visiting, we will call him Trevor. He couldn’t understand why things were so hostile.
He was trying to play peace maker but he didn’t know the whole story. I tried to explain how horrible Carl was to me and why I cut him off completely. He was surprised but also seemed to believe me.
I was so wrong.
I received a text shortly after Trevor friend made it back to Santa Cruz from Carl talking shit about my relationship. Trevor told Carl everything. Carl thought he had new ammo to hurt my feelings.
That was the moment I realized he didn’t have anymore power.
I blocked Carl’s new phone number and Trevor on everything.
I have not heard from him since.
Therapy helped in tremendous ways.
Like I mentioned in my first post, “everything but my name”, therapy gave me a space where I could talk about my feelings with out feeling like an emotional burden. For the first time I was able to confide in someone without minimizing my story.
She reminded me that abuse happens in different severities and that trauma is not a competition. He didn’t have to leave marks on my body or throw me around like a rag doll. The threat of ruining my life, screaming in my face or on the phone, the nonconsensual relationship sex, cornering me slowly, degrading my character, it was all enough to break me.
Every time I write about this chapter of my life, I find more memories, and emotions, to dig through. At the end of the day, what I discovered was freedom. Freedom from the abuse, freedom from the anger and the sadness, and freedom from the hatred.
Eight years later and I’m still learning how to love myself despite others opinions and how to set boundaries. It has been immensely difficult to find my emotional limits and how to decipher my feelings. I still have to talk through my triggers and if I can’t, I still have panic attacks. Living most of my life in flight-or-flight because I don’t trust myself yet. These ripples last years.
Survivors are not only healing but trying to remember who they are, while figuring out what a “regular” life looks like.
I heard this idea from some where online (probably TikTok) and it has stuck with me since. When staring at a red flag head-on, they are difficult to see, too thin, almost invisible but after the relationship is over, we see everything from a new angle. We are able to see the flags that were always there.
I guess that’s what happens when you numb yourself so deeply to prevent the pain.
I was fortunate enough to make it through the madness with a family who supported me, a best friend who held my hand through it all, and an opportunity to escape.
Many women in abusive relationships do not have the same luck. Some women have no safe space, no privacy – their search history, car mileage, phone bills, bank accounts and text messages are all under surveillance and controlled by their abuser.
Chances are, you know or knew someone who has experienced domestic violence in their life.
I understand that our first instinct is to push our loved ones to leave. To try and get them out. Please remember that your actions, words, or interactions could have major repercussions.
The following information comes from the National Domestic Hotline website. This helps us decide what is helpful and hurtful in these situations.
“Do
Listen.
Validate their openness and encourage them to continue to share the whole truth.
Support them.
Tell them you’re there to help them.
Let them know that what’s happening or has happened isn’t OK.
Pray for them.
Tell them you love them.
Don’t
Tell them you always hated their abuser.
Tell them “I told you so.”
Ask them how they could let the abuse happen.
Begin with a mindset of doubt that closes them off to you.
Become angry.
Accuse or blame them.
Tell them what their next steps, emotions or long-term decisions should be.
Tell them to leave the abuser immediately.
Tell them you plan to call the cops.
Tell them you’re going to confront the abuser.”
National Domestic Violence Hotline
Hours: 24/7. Languages: English, Spanish and 200+ through interpretation service Learn more
Call: 800-799-7233 or Text START to 88788.