From Managing to Surviving

One thing that I have learned with experience is that it is extremely difficult to escape my narcissist. No matter what I do, no matter where I am or who I am with, the narcissist in my life has always been there, buried in my head, living rent free. Everything I am, everything I have done, everything I have become, has been a reaction to her and her selfishness. Never in my life have I made a decision freely: every important life choice has always been made with her in mind. Often, the decision that was taken was a way of trying to break free, of creating my own identity away from hers. But even that decision wasn’t taken because it was who I wanted to be. It was a question of escape and survival, not of growth and the pursuit of dreams. This is because my dreams could never be my own. They were taken and twisted, tied into her narrative, and so no matter how hard I tried, no matter how far I went, I could never be completely free. I could never completely be. Her rage and contempt, her emotional outbursts, her emotional manipulation, always limited. It was a response that haunts my every step. She was, she is, always there. In my mind and in my heart, only death could free me from her control. In this life, I have always felt that I could not survive her. Instead, I manage.

In attempting to deal with my narcissist, I am constantly swimming against the current, fighting the wind to get to higher ground, pushing the walls outwards before they close on me. I am in a constant battle to keep her from destroying every part of my being, forever. These feelings of suffocation and pain occur all day every day, and the panic and fear that ensues have had terrible consequences on my life and health. Physical illness and depression are the least of it. My mind easily goes to a very dark place when it sees no escape, no chance of freedom. I sleep for days. I eat too much. I hide from meaningful human interaction. There are moments when there is an upswing. Happiness is always there in life, light as a balance to the dark and all that. But even with the brightest light, it is short lived. The fear, the pain, the panic and distress are always hidden there, just under the surface. The feeling is like being held hostage, with no chance of liberation. I always feel that there is no way to survive this. Instead, I manage.

Living with a narcissist is not like taking the driving test or bungee jumping… you do it, and then “Yahoo! I survived!” Dealing with the narcissist in my life is not like that. It is very difficult to see an end point in the relationship, or a way to create a shift. She is someone who holds me in an emotional chokehold, one which she will never let go. It doesn’t matter that I am suffering, that I am unwell, that I am a sliver of the person I could be, as long as she has me in this hold. This shard of the person I am cannot see a way to survive this. Instead, I manage.

The narcissist is utterly unable to recognise my (or anyone else’s) needs or feelings - unless these feelings suit her own. She must control everything: when and how to communicate, at which intervals, and even to whom (when it is not her). Anything that falls outside of her decided range and schedule leads to an emotional meltdown. Accompanying the meltdown are mountains of guilt about abandonment and comparison to others, accusations about bad behaviour, insulting and belittling comments to ensure that I question myself and that I do not have enough faith in myself to make any important decisions. What should never be ignored or underestimated are the attempts to destroy any or all relationships that could impact her being the central part of my life. When I am constantly being told that I have abandoned my family, that I have led them to financial ruin, that everything I do makes her suffer, that even her own bad decisions (past, present and future) are somehow my own fault, I find it excruciating to survive. Instead, I manage.

The narcissist in my life is able to do this, and play this game, because as is so often the case with people like her, the hold is emotional. It gives her the power to manipulate me in any way she wants, all the time. A person that you don’t care about cannot have such complete and utter control of you and your emotions. There must be an emotional bond that gives her this power over you. Care equals control, manipulation, power. I have never understood how to survive the narcissist that has such an emotional hold on me. So instead, I manage.

The narcissist also has the use of a magnificent noose: it is one that is providing extra support to the chokehold should I happen to get loose, and has been beautifully woven in silk and golden thread, gently placed around my neck, by society. Society is constantly telling me that there are personal relationships that are more important than my own health. That even if the person in question is completely unhinged, it is my responsibility to deal with it, and to ensure that society doesn’t see how painful or detrimental this insistence can be. How can anyone survive these expectations? They do their best, and they manage.

I have been strong my whole life, trying to manage my narcissist. It has been a push and pull. I make decisions instinctively, to save myself from her, and yet I am overwhelmed by guilt and pressure because of her. I have always been the brick wall, the strong shoulder, the headstrong one. I never shared or even dealt with my own trauma, and looking back, dealing with this trauma will be extremely difficult should I continue to only manage my narcissist. Whether it was my assault, or the pain of serious illness: all of those things have been handled on my own, without help, because there was no possibility for help. When asked why I didn’t say

something, the answer was always the same - if I told her about any of these things, I would have to deal with her as well, as the issue would become all about her, and I would get lost in the tide. I could never swim to shore for survival. I barely hung on to the buoy for safety. I found a way to manage.

But I just can’t anymore. I can’t. I am broken. I think about relationships lost due to her lies, happy moments destroyed due to her manipulations, and a life inextricably altered because everything has always been a reaction. Always ready with my shield for the next barrage. I know that even though am broken - unwell, unhealthy, unhinged: the narcissist in my life will not allow any rest, any time, any peace. It is my duty to care, my duty to comply, to provide. She must be the centre of attention. I have tried to share my pain, my need for change, but it doesn’t matter. Only her emotions, her needs matter. And while in the past that forced me to accept simple management, all while taking into account these needs and emotions as sufficient, I can’t do it anymore. My illness, my need to be, simply be, changes the narrative. It is time to free myself from the chokehold, burn the noose, lose the guilt, drop the burden. Managing isn’t working anymore. Managing was simply a bandage. It is time to heal the wound. Now, I am working to find a way to survive.

By Alnaaze Nathoo

From: Switzerland

Website: http://lettersihaventwrittenyet.com

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Twitter: @alnaazenathoo