The above article was shared with me by a good friend, Peter, who I originally met through the blog almost 8 years ago.
It’s serendipitous that he should send it at this time in my life as I am in another period of struggling to keep my head above water.
We are only a few days away from the 9 year anniversary of me leaving my ex. Up until a few days ago I was feeling very positive about my life and how far I have come in those 9 years, against some pretty formidable odds.
When I first met Peter I was living in a small holiday trailer lent to me by a so called friend who felt the favor should be paid back with sex whenever he wanted. The trailer was cold, tiny, and felt nothing like “home”. I was miserable, sick, and probably at my lowest point ever.
In the past 8 years I have bought and lost a cabin on a lake because I had another heart attack and my ex managed to get me fired, by making anonymous calls to my employer telling him lies, anonymous complaint calls to the strata counsel and tampering with my work truck.
I lost my furniture due to mice where I had it stored. I moved onto my brother’s boat which I fixed up and he sold. Then I moved to live with my son and 4 other people in a hellhole small town, who after 6 months got a job in another province and I ended up living in my car.
I buried my two dogs within months of each other.
I tried to get funding to re-educate and was denied 3 times. I fought for disability benefits for 3 years with my ex calling welfare making false allegations against me and getting me cut off of the $600/month I was getting to live on.
For 5 years my ex was in the back ground stirring up trouble, calling landlords, the police, hacking my laptop, spying on me with a drone, slashing my tires, anything he could think of to make my life hell, while he lived off of the avails of his new woman, bought a home with her money, paid off his debt with her money and started his own business with her money. In fact it wasn’t even money she herself earned, it was money from life insurance she received when her husband died. Her husband had ensured she would never have to struggle or work after he died. He must have been rolling over in his grave watching how his money was spent.
Anyway, back to the article and my friend’s impeccable timing.
Nine years after leaving my ex, with 3 heart attacks under my belt, years of struggling find the right doctors and meds, having a defibrillator implanted and having it save my life several times. Feeling like I was dying, being told I could drop dead any minute, wanting to die and feeling the defibrillator saving my life was a cruel joke.
Living in my car on a couple occassions for a month or two, sleeping in my mother’s carport and then her floor, living in the basement of a friend’s with no kitchen or privacy. Never, since I lost my house at the lake, did I feel “at home”. Every time I had to “go home” I would walk through the door and a little piece of my soul would die……… But.
I started to see a light at the end of the tunnel, not a huge bright light, but a small glimmer light, teasing me to keep going forward.
I got offered a part time job, gardening and cleaning at a golf course, working when I chose, when my health permitted. I finally got my disability benefits which doubled how much I get every month.
Then last year I managed to save enough to buy a water damaged 30′ rv trailer off of a bidding site for $1100. Over the course of the year I have put every spare dime into fixing it up. I gutted it, made my own couch, painted the whole thing, redid the bathroom, hand painted my own tiles for the back splash, hand sewed curtains.
Walking into my little trailer feeds my soul. It surrounds me, envelops me and loves me back, it says, “You can do this, you are a survivor.”
It isn’t much but it is mine and I didn’t realize exactly how much I need it until I was faced with the idea of giving it up. You see, try as I might I never did get all the leaks fixed, there are rotten boards in the ceiling and the roof is rotten at the back end. My son says a dump of snow could bring the roof crashing down.
I thought the easy solution was to build a roof over it. I got permission from the RV park manager to build a roof. My brother paid for supplies, my son came to build it. The neighbor complained and the owner of the park squashed my plans of a roof.
Long story short, my son knew of a 23′ trailer for sale, my brother bought it, even though I told them both I can’t live in that small a trailer. My son brought it to me yesterday and a piece of my soul broke at the thought of living in it. It’s a great little trailer, clean, but oh so tiny, no counter space, no closet space, and no chance of changing it without major renovations.
Moving into it would mean getting rid of the few things I have acquired, and yes I would be dry, safe and warm but my soul would die.
My son is mad at me, but I refuse to move into it. I will take my chances doing what I can to fix my roof and pray we don’t have too much snow this winter.
What does this have to do with the article?
A narcissist would not be going through this, he/she wouldn’t worry about their soul because they don’t have one. They live in a make believe world, it’s easy to be happy when you fabricate your whole life and never worry about hurting other people.
The narcissist has nothing he isn’t willing to give up if doing so will get him what he wants. Let me explain what I mean.
My ex and I lost so much, we lived in dumps, I would be distraught, worried, panicked and he seemed unfazed. His mother was amazed by his “adaptability”, his “resilience”.
He was in denial is what he was. I over heard him on the phone talking to someone describing where we were living. I thought to myself, are we even on the same planet? He was describing his great shop, the many project antique cars he was working on the beautiful home we lived in and the facts were, it was a rat infested, one room shack that didn’t have a bathroom or kitchen. The yard was over grown and had derelict cars every where.
It didn’t bother him and he didn’t strive for better because it didn’t matter as long as he could lie about it. The fantasy was as good as the truth as long as no one challenged his lies.
I used to think his guitars were important to him but he could pawn them, lose them, have them stolen and just move on. Eventually he’d find a way to buy more. He had vehicles I thought he really loved, but if need be he could give them up in a heart beat for money or to attain a goal. For instance; he had a really nice 1970 something or other. He sold it to replace the tranny in my truck (which he burned out to begin with). Then he tampered with my truck and wrecked the new tranny. I told his stepdad and he said, “That doesn’t even make sense. He wouldn’t do that, he’s invested so much into fixing your truck, why on earth would he purposely wreck it?
Because he didn’t like me having a nicer truck, doing better at the job he hadn’t done well at and systematically sabotaged my truck until I was out of money and couldn’t afford to fix it. I had managed to last a lot longer than he had anticipated. But in the end, when he revealed his hand, I thwarted his plan and he never got my truck.
It was in the repair shop with tow charges owing, he told me he had a buddy who would take it off my hands for the amount owing. Something like $900. I knew there was no “buddy” he had planned all along to get my $10,000 truck for nothing. I told him I would give the truck away to a stranger before any “buddy” got his hands on it and he could tell his “buddy” to go fuck himself.
Within a year he had an old Chevy pickup truck he was fixing up. The new woman no doubt financed that for him.
The narcissist will play the role of victim and cry for all he’s had taken from him if it will garner him sympathy or guilt someone into giving him something. But the tears are an act. Watch closely, he’ll have his face in his hands crying real tears but peaking through his fingers to see if everyone is falling for it.
The biggest mistake everyone makes when dealing with a narcissist is to assume they have feelings like a normal person. You would be much more accurate to think of them as a robot, programed to function in every day society. But robots have their limitations.