The Effects of Narcissistic Abuse: A Small Moment in My Story.

I’m a 36 year old woman living in 2020, and although I have been physically free from the abuse I endured from my exhusband since the divorce in 2012, the mental, emotional, and psychological trauma continues on, and the anger that comes with it, I have to accept, will always be there. 

I have stayed quiet for almost a decade. I have held my integrity in my hand and squeezed the life out of it for almost two decades. I thought I was ok, I thought I was free, I thought I was strong and done and moved passed all the feelings and fears and thoughts that came with healing from such a toxic relationship. I was severely mistaken.

It’s 2020- I should be over it. So why am I here with such high anxiety levels, tears in my eyes, a triggered IBS episode, angry thoughts at 9:09 in the morning? Because the narcissist still wins. That’s why.

Let’s rewind back to September 2019. I just sold my apartment, I was in the process of buying a house, I had to live with my parents while that deal was going through, I was dealing with a pretty horrible break up with my now fiance, dealing with medical issues, getting ready to have a pretty important surgery- stress levels were already high. Like high high. Nowhere in my mind was my exhusband present. After all it’s been so long and I worked through so many issues on my own and in therapy. I was never curious about him and his life, nothing. That part of my life was so beyond gone because I thrived after I was destroyed. Great, right? Think again.

Stress levels at an all time high and I get hit with a “I think —’s kid is in Mikey and Maria’s class.” Ha Ha God, Ha Ha. 

The work I did and the progress I made- out the damn window. I was back at the beginning. For those who don’t know Mikey and Maria are my twin niece and nephew. My sister and her husband went through hell to become parents, so there is no happier auntie than me. I walked alongside their journey to get them here, and my ex knows what they went through. He was present for multiple failed IVF cycles. He knew their pain, he lived it with us. He just didn’t care- so the flashbacks hit. And they hit hard. The anger hit harder. 

Now, please don’t confuse this piece as a jealous, bitter, angry exwife. This is anything but that- in fact, I prayed real hard for God to send him someone. It would have been the only way he would have left me alone. And even after he met her, he still found ways to torture me like emailing me and asking me for the name and number of the wedding photographer we used. Bait. Bait I did not nibble on. The only way to remove a narc is to go no contact, which was nearly impossible since he triangulated MY friends to provoke me. He had the audacity to send a friend to ask for the ring back, too. He had the audacity to write an email, about me, and CC me in on it, talking about me in the 3rd person. I always shut down manipulative behaviors like that. Nice try guy but not today.

So here I am, exhusband, new wife, and his kids sharing a classroom with my niece and nephew. Let me explain the irony behind the anger. In December 2010, Christmas Eve, we had recently gotten back together after a separation. He was on a bit of good behavior, lying about anger management and therapy he never sought, but the clock was ticking. You can only fake the funk for a certain amount of time. He realized insulting me, saying anything bad about me, poking at me, my character, no longer worked. That source of supply was dead. He couldn’t anger me and get a reaction, that way, anymore, so he hit me where he knew it would hurt.

“I hope your sister never has children” he said. On Christmas Eve. In the midst of an argument. 

I calmly took my bag and keys, told him he is disgusting, and calmly walked out the door to go to my aunt’s house. I told him not to come. 

That didn’t get the rise he wanted, so he ran down the stairs after me, and the love bombing started. The empty apologies, the I didn’t mean its, the superficial hugs and kisses that came. I shook him off, got in my car, and found myself in front of my aunt’s house. I don’t even know how I got there. 

Fast forward- well mother fucker, she does have children. 

And now they have to share a class, with a boy who is probably absolutely wonderful, but whose father is such an evil, disgusting piece of shit. I have prayed for his wife and his kids. I pray his children never have to pay for the sins of their father, and I pray this woman is never treated the way I was. No one deserves what I went through. No one deserves to have their soul torn into, only to be turned into a monster, in the end. I am not a monster, but I sure did turn into one.

It’s 9:32am. I am missing Mikey and Maria’s graduation ceremony. Because 8 years after our divorce and almost 9 years without seeing him, my anxiety levels are so high, I became physically ill. The battle I had in the last 24 hours, with myself, took such a toll on me, that I am STILL avoiding him, almost a decade later. I had to stop to cry, at least twice, while writing this, because of the effect this person has had on me and my entire existence.

I am pretty sure, he is so completely unbothered, cheering on his son, as he should be. One thing I will not take away from this person is that I am positive he is a wonderful father. One of the reasons I fell for him was because he was great with children. So when my friend asked me, do you think he’ll be there? The answer is most certainly yes. I know this man, in and out, and I know that whoever he had children with, they would be the center of his universe. 

But here I am, missing my niece and nephew’s graduation. I was damned if I went and damned if I didn’t. It’s more than a double edged sword for me. It’s a ninja star on steroids, making me bleed from anywhere I hold it. 

I go, I’m uncomfortable, he wins.

I go, I act unbothered, I physically get ill, he wins.

I go, he has the audacity to smugly say something to me, I quietly walk away, I get ill, he wins.

I go, he has the audacity to smugly say something, I act a fool, let go of all the ladylike integrity, I look crazy, he wins. 

I don’t go, he wins.

I don’t go, I miss out, he wins.

I don’t go, I miss out, I still get physically ill and battle the effects of his abuse, 13249712 years later, he wins. 

It doesn’t matter. He wins. He always wins. He always always always wins. And not one aspect of his life has been interrupted by me. I very quietly walked away because I valued my peace. 

But I am fucking tired of always trying to recover and heal because of this person. 

Here is just ONE example. Just one. Just one small moment in time, one small situation, that shows the colossal effect of narcissistic abuse. One. This doesn’t include anything else I have worked through. And there is a lot. It’s almost endless.

I am a strong, well-educated, mentally stable 99% of the time, independent woman who picked up all her pieces and, eventually, thrived. But if this type of abuse broke me in such a way, imagine what it can do to others.

Even after they’re gone, even after they haven’t been present, mainly because you avoid all things them, even after years have passed, the effects stay. 

That is what is so infuriating.

No matter what, the effects always stay.

The graduation is probably over, and I spent it crying instead of celebrating.