Tag Archives: Dancing

The Narcissist Dance

devil hell

The Narcissist Dance, a combination of a two step, jive, twist, jerk, rock and roll and a tango and no matter how fast you dance you will never figure out how to follow him or know what step he wants you to take next.

We dance with everyone in our life, our parents, our children, our lovers. By dance, I don’t mean in the literal sense, I mean figuratively. We establish a certain way of dealing with each other, a dance, sort of speak. They say this, we do that, we do that they do this, ……. we each end up knowing each other’s triggers, sensitive spots, what interests them and what will make them angry. Have you ever noticed that you can act totally different with different people? For example, my dad hated noise so when he was home everyone was very subdued whereas with my mom everything was louder and more fun. I knew when my dad was grumpy to steer clear of him. Or you are more relaxed with one friend than the other, or you avoid a topic with one friend because you know it will set her off.

Certain people just bring out the worst in us too, no matter how hard we try, some people just annoy us. And there are those couples you see once in a while on a dance floor who know each other so well they glide around the dance floor, he can lead her with a slight pressure of his hand, but she knows his every move and they dance effortlessly. Or the couple who finish each other’s sentences or she knows he will forget his glasses so she puts them in her purse. There is comfort in routine, in knowing what comes next and us human’s like routine and knowing what is coming. Most people hate surprises and they will stay with someone, not because they are happy; but because at least they know what is coming. They have established a dance with that person and they don’t want to learn a new dance, it is easier to just dance with the one you know.. You’ve surely heard the saying, “Staying with the devil you know.” who ever came up with that saying must have been involved with a narcissist.

The problem with the narcissist, he taught you how to do one dance and just when you were in sync with him in the waltz of love he started doing the jive, and then he starts to do the polka, then back to a waltz and you can’t dance fast enough to keep up with him. Just when you think you have him figured out he will change the steps again. There is no winning, no figuring him out, no avoiding conflict.

BUT, there is a certain amount of predictability to his unpredictability. You know that once you break up he will find a way to contact you or if you call saying you need his help, (whatever the two of you have established as your dance) you will end up having sex and being “back together”. With James and I, my truck would break down or he would injure himself and I would have to care for him. After ten years it had become “just the way we were”, yeah I was sick of it, yeah I told him this time is it, no more breaking up and getting back together, if we don’t know we want to be together by now we need to just walk away from it. He agreed and we went right back to the “way we were”. I put up with it for 2 years and then finally left, determined to not go back this time. But there was this little glimmer of hope inside me that was expecting him to injure himself or my truck would break down and I would call and he would rescue me and we would do the dance all over again. Only this time he didn’t come running when my truck broke down, he had found someone else and he didn’t give a shit about me any more. All of a sudden I didn’t know any of the steps to the dance he was doing. In fact he left me standing all alone on the dance floor while he did the hokey pokey with someone else.

I didn’t want him back, I knew he was a pathological liar and a narcissist, I knew he was not good for me and he would probably end up killing me but in one fell swoop he ripped the rug out from under me. He left me!!! after all I had put up with, after all the times I had forgiven him and taken him back against my better judgement and the judgement of others, because he had been so insistent that he had changed and loved me and now he was dumping ME? without a backwards glance?? and it didn’t matter how much I pleaded, or said I loved him, he could just walk away and not only that he was blaming me, calling me a psycho and saying he never loved me, I made his life hell for 10 years!! If life was such hell why did he beg me back so many times in that 10 years?  NOW, all of a sudden he saw the relationship as toxic and he wanted out??

Well, if that isn’t changing the tune he was dancing to I don’t know what is!! and now I was supposed to be happy for him that he had found true love and preferably melt into a puddle of shame in a corner somewhere and not ruin the good thing he had going.

I think a lot of the hurt we feel and the reason we have such a hard time with no contact is we got used to things being a certain way, as dysfunctional as things were, it was the way “we were”, we were so in tune to his wants, needs and desires, so intent on following his lead, we forgot how to dance with anyone else. We had a false sense of security thinking no other woman would put up with him the way we did, he may be an asshole but he was our asshole and we always had the hope he would go back to the guy we first fell in love with.

The thing is; even if by some miracle he changed, the relationship between you and him never would. There is too much water under the bridge, too many lies, too much hurt to repair it now. You could never trust him, or he would have to work damn hard to earn your trust back.

Victims have a hard time accepting reality, no matter how much it hurts, it is done, let it go. Have you ever tried to lead a man when you are dancing? It never works very well. I had a guy tell me once that dancing was an indication of how well two people related with each other. I don’t know if that is true, I couldn’t follow him to save my life and I kept trying to lead. We didn’t last long, but he thanked me for making him aware of how much he loved his ex. Oh yeah I had a good cry over that but I got over it by the next weekend. And then you have my ex husband who was an excellent dancer and could dance with any women, but then come to think of it he screwed any woman too. So maybe there is something to that theory, James hated to dance and for someone who played guitar, had a horrible beat. And again the theory maybe right, he hated to dance, he refused to dance, much like he refused to participate in a relationship and when he did try he was off beat. Hmmmm.

dance with devil

I don’t have a clue how this couple gets along, (they are a couple) but you have to admit they are beautiful to watch and they have to be in tune with each other to do it. A relationship with a narcissist is much like this couple dancing. He takes you to great heights, you have never felt more sexual, never trusted any man like you trust him, you believe in him and that he will always be there to catch you. Only difference is when a narcissist throws you up in the high he spots another woman in the audience and walks off stage and instead of being caught, you land face first and he blames you because you took too long to come back down or whatever.

Letting It Be

One of the things I learned through the 10 years I was with JC was that some times you have to let things play out. I used to make things happen, but there was no way you made JC do anything. Plus for the most part while we were together we were leaving it in God’s hands, we prayed alot and I drew alot of peace and strength from that. Since JC, I haven’t gotten the same sense of being at peace when I pray. Before I met JC I wasn’t a “nonbeleiver” but after I met him and his mother my belief grew very strong, and it has just been gone since things turned bad the last time we were together. You csn’t laugh at me but I actually thought God had brought us together and whenever we were about to break up my truck woid break down or he would get injured and circumstances (God) brought us back together. Naive eh? It took me 9 years to believe anyone could purposely sabotage someone’s vehicle or purposely injure themselves. I was always waiting for him, to go to the store, to go to Christmas dinner, to take me to emergency, you msme it I waited. When day after painful day I waited for my truck to be fixed I learned patience and I learned to wait,  it was out of my control; I had to let it go.

Yesterday I woke up and needed smokes so immediately got up and took a sleepy eyed Laila for a walk to the store. It was peaceful, the sun just coming up, me in my pj’s, macassins, sweatshirt and no contact lens in. Au natural! Poor neighbours!! I went in (couldn’t tell you who was in the store but it was crowded ) and the smell of bacon and eggs made my stomach growl. I got a cup of coffee and the newspaper and made some small talk with the little Chinese lady that consisted of alot of smiling, hand gestures and head nodding, then headed home.

I wasn’t looking forward to working and had $40 and 1/2 a tank of gas so didn’t feel panicked about making money so I sipped my coffee, ate the rest of an apple pie and read the paper front to back. I didn’t get out of the house until after noon with a “come what may attitude”.

I have been really plagued with indecision about what I should be doing with my life, whether I should give up on scrap; I am just not able to do the job the way I like. But I don’t know what else to do; work at Tim Horton’s or WalMart for $10 an hour part time? But yesterday I decided to let it go. My first pick up was one of my favorite customers, Symons Tire, I love those guys; and then I dropped my weedeater at another customers, Prospect Equipment and once again enjoyed some easy banter. From there I zipped out to a new customer I picked up last week, the distribution centre for MTF stores. They had 3 pallet jacks to be picked up. I was very proud of myself that I got one on the truck all by myself. It took a bit of doing and I was laughing out loud by myself as I struggled with the damn thing; but with a chain, a load binder and using my sides as a ramp I got the job done and it was time to head to the scrap yard. When I got back to Abbotsford I drove past Home Depot (also a customer) and saw they had some scrap out. I was loading it when a couple of guys yelled out loud”Hey! Lady Witha Truck, how are you doing today?” one of the guys was hanging out the window but I didn’t recognize him. I waved anyway and yelled back,”Great thanks”. I went back to loading and then heard a voice say,” It is you! I saw the pink sign on the truck door and thought it must be you”. I turned and saw a homeless guy I’ve talked to many times in the past, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten his name but I greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he had greeted me. He asked where my big truck and the crane went. I told him I had to get rid of it. He said,”wow, that’s too bad, you were really a force to be reckoned with, like you were my , well, you were like my hero. You were really doing it, better than the guys.”

Me: Shit happens you know?

Guy: Yeah, don’t I know that!.
Guy: I am so happy I ran into you, I’ve wondered where you were. Hey I have something I want to give you, you’re gonna be so excited when you see it and if you don’t mind I’d be honored if you take it. He pulled the lid off a rubber maid container he has strapped to a small trailer he pulls behind his bicycle.

Me: That’s a nice set up you have there.

Guy: Yeah its everything I own, a down sleeping bag and another one that I use as a mattress, a change of clothes, that’s about it.

Me: you’ve got it very neat and it stays dry and it looks good. The guy proudly pulled the lid with a bit of a flourish: Now you can see inside.

Inside the container his sleeping bag was neatly rolled up, his clothes folded and he pulled everything out to get a towel from the bottom. Wrapped in the towel was a pair of wire cutters he hands to me: They have a life time warranty at Canadian Tire. He says.

Me: wow! That’s super, I can always use wire cutters. Would you be offended if I gave you $5 for them?

Guy: I didn’t expect anything for them but if you want.

We talked for awhile about scrap prices, where he sleeps at night and I asked him if the cops leave him alone and he said yeah except to wake him up to make sure he isn’t dead.

Me: You know…..if it weren’t for the generosity of a friend who lets me live in his trailer I’d be sleeping in the bushes right along side you.

Guy with a wink: I wouldn’t mind and he giggled nervously and I just wanted to give him a hug.

Me: I had better get going.

Guy as he extends his hand: I sure am glad I ran into you!! You are a really special lady you know.

I shook his hand and thanked him.

Me: you take good care now ok? And we waved goodbye. I got to the scrap yard and as I went over the scale I hear, “You’re breaking the scale!!!” and turn to see a nice looking guy who haul scrap and we laughed. They called him back into the office and I yelled,” Your in trouble now”.

As I back up to the scrap pile to unload the owner Carlo gives me a wave and walks over to the truck: Hey Carrie, how are you today?

Me: Great! And you? Carlo looks tired and is covered in dirt but he flashes me a big smile of perfect  white teeth that seem brighter because he is so dirty: busy day but I’m good.

I unload and go over to the nonferrous section. I am unloading my nonferrous and hear,”Hey Lady Witha truck!” and look up to see another fellow scrap hauler and give him a wave. As I walk into the office another one of the regulars, an older guy I see there often greets me with: Hey smilie, you staying out of trouble?

Me: Of course! I’m too old to get in trouble.
Him with a snort: Too old.
Me as I pushed past him: excuuuuuse me, coming through. And everyone in the office laughed.I got $120 and it wasn’t even 4 pm yet. I took the dogs for a much needed pee and walk and then went to Shoppers drug Mart for some face cleanser. When the cashier rang up my order she asked if I wanted to donate to their cause. I asked what the cause was and she replied 100% of what they collect goes to help women who have been in abusive relationships. I told her to add $5 to my bill. She was squealing with excitement! “You get to sign a butterfly!” she explained $1 you get a leaf, $5 a butterfly and an acorn with $10 and she’s only had people donate $1 so far. I had a laugh and told her I was in an abusive relationship and we discussed how emotional abuse is much harder to heal from than physical abuse. She is young but very mature and I tell her about my blog. From there I go to the grocery store, there’s a guy a guy playing the guitar, he’s pretty good, has a raspy voice and is singing a country song that got me feeling like a dance. Just as I get to the door a guy is walking out, I don’t recognize him but he says, “Your trucks keep getting smaller Lady Witha Truck.” Me: ALOT smaller! And laugh.

I grabbed a few groceries, took the dogs for a walk stopping half a dozen times to let people pet them. Laila performs and gives high 5’s right on cue. A lady leans out as she drives past, “Hey are those Shar-pies? They’re beautiful.

Me: Dad and daughter” thanks yes they are!

We get back in the truck and as I drive past the guitar player I feel I should be giving him something but I’m heading home and don’t want to stop. I get to the first intersection and turn around. I pull up, stop the truck and throw $3 in his guitar case as he sings “You gotta know when to hold them. Know when to fold them. Know when to walk away and know when to run.” I smiled at him and said,” Have a good night”.

I think I got my answer today

http://www.cptryon.org/prayer/special/serenity.html

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change
Change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Yesterday I felt I was exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment in time and I was at peace. One day at a time.

Love to you all.

Yes, You Are Pregnant!

I am trying to keep this short, I don’t know why I feel I must share this part of my life, it doesn’t really have anything to do with narcissism, but you know everything that has happened to us in our life makes us what we are today, the good and the bad.

Some things bring us to our knees, some things have us doing a happy dance, some times we feel our feet don’t even touch the ground, other times we don’t know if we’ll make it through the day and all of it teaches us something, or it should. It teaches us something about ourselves, about other people or about the world and no experience is wasted as long as we learn some thing from it. Like it or not it is all part of us and how we deal with the different things that happen to us depends on what happened to us prior to now. Our lives are a series of experiences all connected some how; you can’t remove one experience without it affecting future experiences.

I have said before that I don’t believe that women who get involved with a narcissist are flawed in any way, they aren’t weak and easy targets, the majority of them were strong self sufficient women. I have been really hesitant to write about my past experiences with the baby and stuff because I didn’t want any one out there to read it and think, “Well, it makes sense why she fell victim to a narcissist, look at her upbringing; I had a healthy loving upbringing, I have high self esteem, I would never allow anyone to treat me like that, I am safe.

No one is safe, narcissist’s are chameleons without a conscience; they will find a way to get to even the strongest, most intelligent person. My son was my weakness, my fear of something happening to some one I love was my weakness but I was not a weak person and I guess that is what I am trying to show.. Any way on with the story.

When Victor showed up I believe it was a Wednesday, I still had to work the week so in 2 days Victor sold all my furniture, and early Saturday morning we shoved everything I owed in my Honda Civic and drove straight through to Borden Ontario so we could start work on the Monday. I went with the attitude that it was an adventure and if it didn’t work out I would at least see another part of the country and I was young enough to go home and start over. Victor and I were there a year, spending as much time as possible in Quebec with his family and my brother and mother both came out for a visit at different times in that year. Victor was always very welcoming with my family and his family welcomed me with open arms.

Quebec was a real culture shock for me. This was at a time in the late 70’s early 80’s when Quebec wanted to separate and some of Victor’s friends were angry he was with an English Canadian, some businesses wouldn’t even try to talk to me, many of their laws were different, and it was like a foreign country. At that time in BC you couldn’t drink on a Sunday unless you bought dinner in a restaurant and it was before beer and wine stores. In Quebec people took their children into the bars, drank 7 days a week and could buy booze in the grocery store any day of the week.

Growing up my dad used to accuse me of doing drugs and being promiscuous, I got in trouble for smoking and hanging around with the “wrong” crowd and basically because I got pregnant I had disgraced the family. The truth be known I never even tried smoking a joint until I was well into my 20’s, was not a slut and was quite a prude. I wore conservative outfits, I never went out without my makeup done, and never left a dirty dish in the sink or a faucet not shone. There were no grey areas in my life, everything was right or it was wrong; there was no in between. Victor and I were like the Lady and the Tramp; from two different worlds but there was an appeal to the carefree life he led. Victor wasn’t encumbered by worrying about what people thought; that is not to say he didn’t worry about hurting someone because he did; there is no way he was a narcissist, he was kind and generous and genuine; he had a zest for life, he grabbed life with both hands and LIVED it; …….. Every second of it. Whereas I was spending my life being afraid; of being judged, criticized, or rejected, I didn’t even know what I wanted out of life if my parents didn’t tell me. I thought I knew, until I met Victor. As much as I had my hands full dealing with Victor living life to the fullest, he had his hands full dealing with my narrow mindedness; we clashed a lot.

Victor dabbled with drugs and every time he did I would get spitting angry, he drank to oblivion, and partied hard, but his whole family did. They didn’t even own a coffee pot and started the day with a beer. At Christmas I was mortified that his mother cooked a full turkey dinner and no one came to the table to eat it and just picked at it throughout the night. Some people didn’t even get their tree up before Christmas, I called my mother in tears, it was all so “unChristmaslike” for me and I missed home terribly. When I cooked while I was there I demanded people come to the table and eat. I told his father, “If I can go to the trouble of cooking you a meal the least you can do is come to the table and eat it.” He said something to Victor in French and he laughed; Victor said his dad liked my spunk.

When I look back, I was very young, only 22-23 but I had very definite ideas of how a relationship should work; the roles of a man and a woman in the relationship and they were pretty stereotypical. The woman cleaned, cooked and the man did the outside yard work and fixed the vehicles. We lived on base so army was our life, all our friends were army and most of our entertainment took place on base. The army almost promoted infidelity. Every Friday night was a “smoker” for army personnel only, no wives or girlfriends until 9 pm.
They would barbeque steaks and get pissed, by the time I got there at 9 Victor would be 3 sheets to the wind or passed out. I remember one night in a club on base there was a group of us sitting at a table and the husband ½ of a couple we socialized with a lot was sitting two chairs down from me. I didn’t know the woman sitting beside him but ½ ways through the night I realized she was giving him a hand job under the table. I was disgusted, mortified, shocked, wanted to go home and puke.

Victor got out of the army a year after we moved to Ontario and I went ahead BC to get a job, a place for us to live and to plan our wedding. We got married Aug 28, 1981, our wedding is a post in itself and maybe someday I will tell you about it, here’s a clue………every time I hear the Glen Campbell song, “Someone Left My Cake Out In The Rain” I think of my wedding.

Victor embraced my family and our traditional Christmas’s, Thanksgivings and birthdays; as much as he was a free spirit he truly loved my family and my family loved him. Not ever having that when he was going up he was almost childlike in his enthusiasm for anything to do with family, I learned how to cook French Tourtiere and made it every Christmas until just a couple of years ago and I always gave Victor 4-6 pies and he would give me wild meat to go in it. Even though Victor’s father had been a hunting guide for a portion of his career he never taught Victor how to hunt. My dad was an avid hunter and was more than happy to teach him.

When we were back east I started to let my hair down a little bit, long before the movie “Dirty Dancing” came out Victor was doing it. God he could dance, he is the only man I’ve ever seen jive with 3 women at once and not miss a step. He loved to dance and I grew up dancing at home, both my parents loved to dance. I can remember standing on my dad’s feet as he whirled me around the living room dancing, even as an adult I used to love doing an old time waltz with my dad. Him being 6’3” ish and me 5’10” ish our one arm outstretched and his other arm around my waist guiding me we would glide across the dance floor, our long legs in perfect unison. Unfortunately if we were not careful we would get too close to someone else and lambaste them on the side of the head with our outstretched arms because we were so tall our arms were at the exact height of many of the other dancers. Victor and I were the same height in bare feet and that presented a problem in itself when dancing; he wasn’t used to a woman the same height as him and when he told me to “just relax and let yourself fall I’ve got you” when he dipped me, the idea being I would reach the full extension of my arms and that would help snap me back up; he miss judged the length of my arms and I landed full force on the floor. Then there was the time he had me above his head, I was to remain straight as he held me horizontal above his head and twirled me; that time we took out the ceiling fan in our living room. One thing for sure; every time we danced I fell in love with him all over again. As maddening as he could be and as annoying as I could be with my obsessive compulsiveness we loved each other.

He got on with the Federal prisons, I got back on with the Bank of Commerce, we each had our own sets of friends, mine the conservative group, his the rowdies and then we had our couples friends; when we threw a party there was never a dull moment. We bought a motorcycle and joined the same club I had belonged to a few years prior, we bought a “fixer-upper’ house under foreclosure in 1982 right after the bottom fell out of the real estate market but the mortgage rates were something like 20%. The people had put an addition on the side of it, two bedrooms and a living room but hadn’t removed the wall between the old house and the addition. In true Victor fashion, while I was at work he decided to take his chain saw and cut an archway into the living room. Great idea, but he didn’t measure anything, didn’t check for wiring, and didn’t cover anything with a tarp or even close a cupboard door. There was a fine layer of gyproc dusk over everything.

We put in grass and gardens, poured concrete in the back for a patio and settled in as proud home owners and newly weds, there was only one thing missing ……… a baby. Every month I agonized when I got my period and I still had to go every 3 months for another pap smear and the results were always the same; not good. Then one month I was late, I did a home pregnancy test and it came out positive. Back then they couldn’t say you were positively pregnant until you were 6 weeks and the next 2 weeks were a living hell until I got confirmation; Yes, you are pregnant!!

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck