the narcissist

My hope for this website is to raise awareness of domestic violence and to help victims find a safe place to share stories, help us all understand we are not alone, and to recognize forms of abuse so that we can begin to recover.  I spent many years in an abusive relationship but wouldn’t accept the truth of it because I didn’t think I was physically abused.  Looking back, I was physically abused, and it hurt. The more painful part, though, was the emotional, verbal, and psychological abuse that enveloped me day in and day out. The fog has lifted for me, but I still experience trauma reactions and symptoms of PTSD every day.  

Below is my story, and we hope to gather more stories so that people can understand what abuse, (“domestic violence”) looks like and help others to get the help they deserve.  

The beginning: 

I was the “love of his life” · lavished with gifts, praise, phone calls and texts · he was hilarious · dramatic · the life of the party · extremely intelligent 

The red flags 

my family and friends didn’t like him · he would make fun of me · he would yell at me · he never apologized · was always right  

Marriage 

he began belittling me more and more · I couldn’t hang a picture right - he would have cooked dinner different · I would get yelled at for the most insignificant things · if I disagreed, he would say I shouldn’t share my thoughts unless they were fully considered from all angles · he kicked me in the stomach and knocked me back as I was trying to sit next to him · he would tell me he was on his way home from work but not arrive for hours or until the next day · he’d yell at me for asking him where he was · tell me I need to work on my ability to trust ·  I’d call him in the middle of the night at the office (no answer) · drive by his office (not there) · cry for the rest of the night · hide in the bathroom when he’d started yelling · he’d destroy the closet · throw things · rip handles off doors · he contracted HIV and syphilis but had no idea how · 

Eventually, I came to believe every one of his lies and convinced myself that I needed to trust him and stop questioning · It got to a point that I just agreed with everything because it was easier, and I became invisible and felt completely isolated and ashamed · I lied to my family and friends · felt like I just wanted to sink into the sofa and disappear · 

My wakeup call  

I found him passed out in his office in women’s clothes and high as a kite on meth and with a burner phone. At that point, I knew every story he ever told me was a lie. 

But it wasn’t until I subpoenaed credit card statements showing thousands of dollars in hotel rooms and cash withdrawals that I believed my own stories and my own truth. I was finally able to listen to myself. 

While he was in rehab, I was torn on whether to leave him, mainly because I was a stepmom of three kids, one of which I helped raise from 10 months old. I couldn’t imagine a life without them, but I knew I wasn’t safe with him.   

After he got out of rehab, I stayed with my parents and best friend for 6 months until our divorce was final. He sent me grotesque hate bombs and fantastic love bombs through email and text; sometimes 20 to 30 emails in one day.  Called me the worst things a person could imagine and then followed up with a love letter.   Yelled at me relentlessly, tried to hit me with a broom, call me a useless human, a whore, ugly, fat, wished me to die a gruesome and tortuous death, and that he had to swallow his own vomit at our wedding he was so disgusted with me.  

He blamed everything on me: his drugs, his behavior, everything.  The things he didn’t want to believe (abuse, infidelity, and cross dressing) were just forgotten, those things never happened, and I was just making it up, I was a liar.  

Everyday I must remind myself that this was not my doing, and that I am better off.  But he has now poisoned the two youngest kids against me, convincing them that this was all my fault.  He has blocked me from reaching out to them and has threatened to call the police if I so much as speak to them. I continually pray that this will change, but it is also a reminder to me of the insidious and abusive ways he continues to hurt me and the kids. This validates that I needed to get out.  I’m full of anxiety, and mentally and physically exhausted.  I pray that he will leave me alone and I will get to see the kids.  The only way I know how to get through this is to give myself some grace and  to rely on my loved ones and God.   

If any part of my story resonates with you, and you question if you are also a victim, seek help, talk to your friends and family, and get out of the situation.  No one deserves to be abused.