What an amazing concept..”No Contact”

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5 days with no contact.  I just realized that tonight and had to tell someone!

I’m in my wonderful new condo with Allison. I’m on the road to recovery.

I’ve had enough time to recover from last weekend’s move where John was drunk and wouldn’t let me back in “his” house to retrieve my clothes.  I had left them until last so I could take them in my car.  Talk about “don’t let the door hit you on the way out” it did.

I had been using the phrase “kicked me out” when describing the situation to my sister.

She said, “Stop saying that!  You have a place to go, he “wouldn’t let you back in”.  “Kicked you out” makes you sound weak and not in control, but you are in control, you have a place to go. ”

No Contact.  The most intelligent piece of advice to a give to a victim trying to get out of a narcissistic abusive relationship.

Here is my list of the amazing things I’ve managed to accomplish without him undermining my every move:

I got a mortgage by myself.  He always made it sound impossible.

I found an amazing condo by myself.

I organized the move even though he said the U Haul wasn’t big enough (it was)!

Don’t forget the fact that after trying three times in the last 27 years, I managed to divorce him even though the experience has been worse than imagined.  He sent me to the bottom of the pit and clawed my way back out.

I’ve decided my new birthday is March 4th, 2017!

Narcissist Until the End

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I have been trying to leave John on and off for about the 27 years we’ve been together.  It has been an unhealthy codependent relationship since I was 23.  He loves me, he hates me, he loves me again.  He’s nice, he’s mean, he’s nice to me again.  It was constant cycle.  And then throw in my Bipolar II four-day cycle, what a nightmare it was to live like that.

Wednesday the day I have been trying for arrived.  I am officially divorced from John!

At first I was elated and bouncing around at the news because I had needed the signed decree to close on a condo I am buying.  I was cutting it really close, the closing is this Tuesday.  That’s all I had been concentrating on for 3 weeks

“That means we are divorced,” I said, “we’ve been together for 27 years and now it’s over.” Without wanting to I began to get a bit misty.

“Do you want a hug?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t give me a hug when my mom died and now you want to give me one, “I asked, “it’s too late for that.”

My tears dried before they hit my cheeks.  Thank you, John, for reminding me so quickly and so clearly why I didn’t give in this time.

 

That Was Then….

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That was then, this is now.

Stinging Tears   Crushed  Love to Hatred Turned  Another Horrible Crazy Christmas

It’s been a hard road, 27 years.

I made it through and out the other end, battered and bruised, but out.

Tonight I feel calm, peace, happiness, relief and maybe a little joy.

To be continued…….

Another Horrible Crazy Christmas

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This morning I woke up from the worst day of my life during the worst time of my life.  The bright side is that now it cannot get any worse.

On Christmas Eve, my narcissist, soon to be ex-husband pulled out all the classic narcissistic crazy stops.  We had an argument and this time he locked himself in the bathroom pretending to call the police telling them he was afraid of me and didn’t know what I was going to do to him.

The situation was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but see the humor in it. It didn’t help defuse the situation when every time he opened the door I said, “Boo!”

He left the house with a bag of clothes. He inexplicably told me he was afraid I would make something up and call the police on him.  He told his parents and my son that he couldn’t come back to the house unless someone was with him for protection.

Christmas was ruined and it looked like it was my fault. Brilliant move.

My sister was so mad that I had let him bait me again she shouted at me!  I don’t think she has shouted at me since I was 9.

I only have one thing I have to remember in order to get through this nightmare in one piece. Absolutely definitely NO CONTACT!

I can do it.

Love to Hatred Turned

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I’m running on pure emotion tonight.

I’ve never given much thought to the stereotypical “woman scorned”.  I feel it now.

Granted I’ve always been emotional, but I haven’t reached this level since my teens.  You know, teenage broken heart, writing poetry etc.

When I told my dad and my sister that John ,was cheating on me,  I asked that neither of them say they weren’t surprised. They didn’t, but Ellen did say “your marriage was always bad anyway”.  That is the same as she “wasn’t surprised”, therefore I shouldn’t be as upset as I am.

When you are betrayed by your brain all your life, everything surprises you.  I hung on to him all these 27 years because I thought I loved him.  I did love him.  I do love him.  It doesn’t matter how wrong it is, I do.

God I hate him.

I do believe myself when I say I won’t go back to him.

To be able to give him the adoration his narcissistic ego needs to survive, this woman is either as needy as he is or as broken as I was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crushed

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Feeling crushed tonight.

Times like these I just really want to give in to my illness and feel sorry for myself.  I don’t feel like being strong and “high functioning”.

Remember my “Stinging Tears” post?  It almost happened again at work today.  I am blessed to be working so closely with a woman who is so like me and then again not.  I need a man like that.

This time she was in the office with me and offered to leave me in there, close the door and shut the blinds.  A little humor goes a long way when your life and emotions feel like they are spiraling down like flushing a toilet bowl.  Not the most eloquent analogy, but for some reason that is the mental image that comes to mind.

I have been doing a little spying.  No, because this blog is all about honesty, A LOT OF SPYING!  I’ve found out through and overheard conversations that someone is not being truthful with me.  In face I feel completely betrayed and revolted by what I have overheard by accident.  It really was by accident.  He was so drunk in the hot tub he didn’t realize how loud he was talking.  I also know he thinks I am a complete moron and couldn’t possibly find his secrets.

The bastard has turned me into an obsessed individual looking for anything I can get my hands on. Rummaging through drawers, digging through paperwork and buying a USB recording device that I either leave casually on the table or placed in my bra.

Because this is so against my nature, I am torturing myself with my own behavior!  What the hell have I turned into?  I know I can’t use this information to help me with the divorce, but I just need to know.

Why do I need to know?  I have been living under a narcissist my whole life,  23 years with my mother and 27 with my husband.  I can never seem to get it through my thick head that I will never feel justified.  I can’t hear another self-affirmation again. I can’t try another “healthy or mature way to take this betrayal” Is taking the high road all that great?  The only person it really helps is the offender.  The victim is still left with feelings of unworthiness.

I want to shred his clothes. I want to key his truck. I want to tell his mother. I want to make him suffer. Even though it doesn’t make me feel better in the moment,  the best punishment for him is for me to outsmart him.

He really shouldn’t underestimate me.  I’m not as dumb as he has always told me I am.

Stinging Tears

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I was standing designing library signs on the computer.  All of a sudden I burst into tears.  Well not really burst, no one knew I was crying, but I felt like I had burst.

It started with my eyes stinging and then some deep breathes and face getting all scrunched up.  I realized at that point it was too late to keep it under wraps and I went into the office and shut the door.  The office was dark, but one wall is all windows that face the library.  I positioned myself between the door and the wall in a shadow so no one could see me falling apart.

I stood for a couple of minutes silently with tears running down my cheeks.  Inside my brain was battling was this really necessary for me to be crying in the first place and how much further and animated was this about to go?

While I was pulling a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe my eyes I began to sob.  Sobbing is heart breaking even for the person doing it.  When I was young I would let it all hang out and make as much noise as I felt necessary.  Now days I hardly ever cry, but when I do it is as quietly and reserved as I can manage.

Silently sobbing, my chest heaving and drying my eyes lasted a few more minutes until I felt I could move on and begin to recover.  I put my glasses back on trying to disguise some of the red face.  It’s always my red nose and lips that give me away.

I preach to everyone that a good cry is usually beneficial.  It wasn’t today.  It was horribly emotional and physically painful.

I haven’t written in a while because I have been completely up to my neck in getting a divorce.  It’s really happening this time.  My sweet narcissist husband started his old tricks last night of twisting my words and making veiled threats.  I was doing really well until I realized that he still has hold of me in a PTSD sort of way.  I fell into his trap and said a few things I had sworn I would not say as to not make things worse than they already are.  I was supposed to be laying low and silently suffering the way I had learned to after years of this treatment. I’m still kicking myself for not being able to hang on to my cutting words.

It was feeling overwhelmed today and not having anyone to talk to about it is what set me into tears.  I realized that I wanted to talk to my mom.  She was good for that.  She listened to me for years about him and always made me feel tough and fiery.  She didn’t give great advice, but she listened and was completely on my side.

For the first time in almost two years I missed her.  Two years since I’ve talked to her. It hit me hard that she is dead.  And realizing I needed her for that made me start thinking of the other things I miss.  Honestly, I just feel like hell today.

I Know What This Looks Like…

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I may have devoured a rotisserie chicken while driving home, but at least  I didn’t stop at Carl Jr’s and ruin my diet plan.  

Good Samaritan or Crazy Person?

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Recently, I was minding my own business driving to the library when something caught my eye. Two people were making unnatural movements on the sidewalk along the side of the library.  It took a minute for my brain to translate what my eyes were seeing. First, two women fighting.  Second, a lot of blood.

I don’t know what other people would’ve done, but after the last realization it all clicked and I stopped the car, almost pulling to the curb. As I got out, the other women ran and got into the passenger side of the truck in front of me and sped off (she must’ve heard of me and my bad ass reputation)!

I got to the bleeding woman and asked her what I could do, not realizing the severity of the situation.  She sat down on the grass and said call 911.  She didn’t even say it sarcastically or with a condensing tone with which I would have expected from such a stupid question.

I ran back to my car to get my phone and called 911.  I ran to the hatchback and grabbed the wipes that had been left by Emily on her last visit.

I applied pressure to the deep gash above her eye.  Blood was everywhere, it was pooling on her chest. The 911 dispatcher asked me a lot of questions and I relayed the information between the girl and her. That is how I found out the reason for all the violence.  Amanda said the weapon was metal, like a pipe or a wrench.  She had broken up with her boyfriend and the new girlfriend had accused her of stealing clothes.  Sounds like a solid reason for attempted murder to me.

I continued try to comfort her, telling her the ambulance was on it’s way and then she would be okay.  I said we should listen for the sirens (exactly what I was saying to Allison the night of the seizure). She seemed to be breathing strangely.  I told her over and over to breath slower and deeper.  Every baby wipe I applied to the wound filled right away.

10 minutes and 100 bloody wipes later, I finally heard the sirens.

Revealed, I left her to the EMTs.  I picked up the blood soaked wipe and her purse and carried them to the ambulance.  Then I had to run back because I realized I had put my phone in her purse.

I didn’t realize how shaken I was until I started to write a statement and my hand wouldn’t stop shaking. I was writing illegible nonsense.  I told the police officer I wasn’t making any sense.  He was really kind and asked if I just wanted to take it home and he would pick it up.  The thought of the police coming to my house and having to prolong this nightmare propelled me into tough mode and I said I would start again, but first let me melt into a pile of tears.  It took me a few minutes, I recovered, stopped shaking and wrote down what I had witnessed.

A little bit of reflection…no one stopped to help us in the ten minutes we waited for the ambulance!  We couldn’t have been missed!  Amanda with blood pouring down her face and me, propping her up with bloody tissues surrounding me on the grass. I really could have used the help.

I was back home telling the story to Allison when I realized something.  What if when I jumped out of the car, the woman with the weapon came after me?  What if the driver of the car jumped out with a gun and shot me? The list of bodily injuries that could have been delivered on me was massive!  It was like the time recently when a woman and her dogs were being attacked by a pit bull in the street.  I did the same thing! Stopped my car and jumped out to help. Just what the hell was my plan?  Get ripped to shreds along with the dogs and their owner?

If a situation like this happens again, I am going to try to park, STAY IN CAR and dial 911! I may have gotten away with being a good Samaritan this time, but next time I might be a dead person.  I hope it doesn’t take me being killed to realize this.

 

Still Drinking Wine

Published on by cmglife
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bottles behind my dresser’s mirror

I am still drinking wine even though the danger far outweighs the pleasure. The thing is, I don’t see or feel any of the dangers …yet.

I sleep well, get up for work on time and do a good job.

I’ve managed to lose 11 lbs. without giving up wine.

I take seven different prescription medications that do not seem to be affected by it.

I am not showing signs of liver damage.

My skin is not aging prematurely.

I’m not suffering from dementia

Blood pressure is healthy.

I have managed to stay highly productive.

I drink a bottle of wine every night.  I actually don’t want to drink until around 7pm.  A lot of the time I dread that time of night.  I just give in to it.  I feel sad, lonely and deprived when I don’t drink.  Crazy, right?

I’ve come up with a few ideas about why I like drinking and why I haven’t been able to stop.

I grew up not being in control of anything at school or at home.  When I finally reached the age of being able to work etc. I started smoking.  It felt good because no one would allow me to smoke and they couldn’t stop me either.  Maybe it was the first thing that represented control to me.   I ended up being in control, but not really.  I wanted to quit, I hated the smell and I felt like a criminal because smoking had started to have a stigma attached. I couldn’t go without it even though I hated it.

Another piece of the puzzle is when I quit smoking, I replaced that with food.  For years I over ate, felt sick and ashamed.  I didn’t really start gaining weight until after bipolar meds I began taking in my forties. So that had to be dealt with the only way I knew how.

The drinking started because I had been used to such highs and lows my entire life and when I started taking medication for bipolar I felt like a big blob.  I didn’t like anything or hate it.  I felt as if I had no personality anymore.  Drinking wine at least changed that mood enough so I felt a little bit like my old self.

So here we are now, five years later.  I’m up to a bottle of wine every night.  I do feel in control when I make a stop at the liquor store and get anything I want.  I have been working all day, made my money and now I can buy some wine.  Just like I could buy cigarettes and go by McDonald’s or eat a pint of ice cream until I was sick.

My therapist says it is crucial to replace the wine and the ritual with something I enjoy just as much.  She also said if I am not experiencing any of the bad side effects of the wine, I should quit to see how much better I could be.   Could I sleep better, lose more weight, have better skin and feel a difference if the alcohol isn’t interfering with my medication?

I’ll have to go cold turkey. Drinking less doesn’t work.  I’m the kind person to eat the whole bar of chocolate instead of “just one square”.  People who do that and say they are satisfied are either on drugs or just not of this world.

My plan this time is to stop drinking completely.  Replace it with things I want to do, but never have the time because I am in bed drinking and doing work at 7pm.  At the beginning of the summer I had five lists of things to do from immediate to whenever.  I threw the last four away.  I’m going to rewrite those lists and start checking them off one by one, night by night.

And if I fail, I’ll try again.