Cheri was the dream girl I always wanted. I came into the relationship under the assumption she was better than me. She promoted herself as pure as the driven snow, with shit that didn’t stink, she vomited sunshine and shat rainbows. I was determined not to be the weak link I worked on self improvement. My personal growth should have celebrated.
I placed Cheri high up on a pedestal, I looked to her for validation. I lived my life through her eyes. She never approved of what she saw. Living my life through her eyes brought me down to the darkest days of my life.
I had not even heard the word narcissist yet and would not until the relationship was all but over. Three and a half years of narcissistic hell I endured not knowing what was going on, not even realizing what i was going through was abuse. The constant demeaning comments and shaming sessions was just a superior being passing down her judgement.
The emotional pain caused generally by being labeled a cheat was unbearable. and repeated over and over again. Being so devoted to her, cherishing the ground she walked on and hearing accusations of infidelity stopped my heart and tore it from my chest so often it never healed. To want to prove myself to her so desperately and hear her say I have a sneaky personality and she can never trust me crushed my spirit as if my heart bursting was not enough.
I became transparent, Always available so she could check on me, Quit my friends which was easier than the rage I got if I wanted to include them in anything. I went no where, did nothing without her. I was determined to prove myself worthy. I never in my wildest idea’s never thought that it was impossible, could never happen. All I did was give my power away.
This is how the loneliest period of my life started. I was allowed to hang out but it was always it was always made clear I still did not make the grade and in a constant staee of rejection. I allowed myself to be put on a shelf and lived on what ever crumbs she had left when everybody else important to her was not available.
I Got three Date nights from one Thanksgiving day to a following Easter. She always managed to disrespect me and ruin every one of them. I was always around to neglect and reject, demean and shame. She never failed to do so.
I cannot describe how horrible it was to be called upon the carpet over and over, when we were alone and get dissected, pulled apart and found a unclean, worthless, sneaky cheat, irresponsible low life, or a worthless emotional basket case, what ever that nights theme happened to be.
She learned how important a symbol having a house key to her home was to me. So I never got it back. She loved, just loved to shame me with “You will never be good enough to get a key back.” I could not believe the number of times she could say it in a single evening. Just sheer meanness. It hurt every single time. In fact she loved to hurt me to the point I lost it, blew up or cried. That way she could bring it up, a level and use that to show how unstable I was.
It got to the point I could not understand how she could paint such a low black picture of me and have me around. I mean I was painted blacker than coal, like people you don’t allow in your life little lone around your grand kids.
I was miserable suicidal and could not leave her to save my ass. trauma bonded to the max every time I walked out I snapped back like a new rubber band.
My decision in my broken state was to make her leave me. I knew even as she did that I would be kicking and screaming to get back in, Like the pathetic little man I had become. She was flaunting my replacement in my face anyway. He turned into her favorite subject to be throwed in my face time and time again. I will never be unhappy I was able to ruin that for her.
I thought faking a affair would be a clean break. It just turned into five more months of a angrier version of Cheri living with her was pure hell, When I finally was ready to quit my slow slide to suicide, I traded the pure hell of living with her for the pure hell of living without her.
The stress gave me a heart attack. Coming back from narcissistic abuse, fighting to stay off the longs of traumatic bonding, get a glimmer of joy or happiness back, or a small part of who I used to be back is a tough row to hoe. But hoe I did, and look at me now.
Doing everything wrong didn’t help, just put off my recovery. But I now know there is life after narcissistic abuse. If I can get out doing everything wrong, you will too.
There is life after narcissistic abuse; maybe you can’t see it from where you are standing, but it’s real and it’s waiting for you to arrive. So start taking those baby steps. At first, it’s just important to be moving; the right direction will come in time.
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