Tag: narcissist

Narcissist Survivor’s Guilt

Narcissist Survivor’s Guilt

Each night, it takes me a good long time to fall asleep. So when I lay down, rather than stewing about why I can’t snooze off, I let my mind wander. I usually try to direct my thoughts into pondering happy scenarios like what my dream future house would look like or what it might feel like to be completely healed from the effects of my narcissistic ex. Recently, as I was drifting off, an unbidden thought floated out of my subconscious: I should have never divorced Cory.

This unprecedented idea jolted me awake. As part of my healing, I try not to judge myself when unusual thoughts jump into my head. Instead, I simply try to pause and be curious. But this one really came out of left field. I know that I made the right decision to end my marriage and it’s been a long, long time since I had any compunction that my divorce was anything other than a divine blessing.

After some consideration (and not much sleep), I realized that I was experiencing my own version of survivor’s guilt. My daughters are really struggling at this time. There are many reasons, but one of the key sources of grief is the cognitive dissonance they experience as they come to grips with their addict dad. Cory presents himself as the nicest, most low-key guy in the world. This version of their dad is the man they have known their whole life. But the true Cory is a narcissist. And like all people in the Cluster B spectrum, he is spiteful and aggressive. When you back him into the corner, he comes out swinging. My daughters have now had ample occasion to see that narcissist—the true man their dad is. One of my daughters described his behavior perfectly: vicious.

The real Cory, with his facade laying shattered on the ground, is unbelievable when first encountered. Particularly when his monster-like behavior comes at a juncture where he is vying to reestablish his membership in the church. He texts and talks about the atonement and Christ’s healing power, all while behaving in an emotionally abusive manner. There is no humility, there is no grief, there is no sorrow. It’s just a DARVO message of how he is tired of being judged and that he is a changed man…and the kids better get on board.

I am used to this and I’m not sure whether saying it doesn’t bother me much anymore is a triumph or a tragedy. But for my kids, this confusing behavior is relatively new.

Before everything about Cory came out, my kids had a great life. They enjoyed two parents who seldom fought and seemed happy, at least on the surface. They had the security of a decades-long marriage and the stability of a traditional family life. But now they have the reality of a single mom who struggles on a daily basis and a dad who is essentially out of their lives.

Enter in my survivor’s guilt.

I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking that if I had just stayed married, this wouldn’t have to be my children’s experience. I had not been happy for a long time anyway, so why couldn’t have I made the long-term sacrifice—their happiness for mine? It’s not as if I am shouting my joy from the rooftops now. My life is a significant daily challenge. Why not just stay the course and let them at least enjoy personal peace?

Because I deserve happiness. Because my children’s struggles, while awful to behold, will make them stronger, more compassionate individuals. Because we all have a right to live in a home with unfiltered access to the spirit. Because our loving Heavenly Father would never say it was my fate to exist in a marriage with a man who mocks everything sacred.

It was interesting that a year and a half post-divorce this was the first time I’ve ever had a dialogue like this in my own mind. It is always going to be awful to watch my kids in pain. I would give anything to take that away. But I know that once we all come out on the other side of this awful grief, there will be beautiful takeaways we will be able to share with the world. I may not be able to automatically turn off the survivor’s guilt, but I can look for the lovely miracles that will happen as we fully accept our reality and process our pain.

Say What?!

Say What?!

I had a highly triggering experience this past week. There was a death in the family of my ex-husband. After careful consideration, I decided to attend the funeral to support my former-mother-in-law, who was in my life for over thirty years, but also to be an anchor to my children. I knew it would be a difficult experience, particularly because my ex is a narcissist and I could already see traces of manipulative behavior starting before the day of the funeral even dawned.

When we arrived at the church viewing, we knew that my ex’s new fiancee, her children, and even her parents would be in attendance. As my mother and I moved into the chapel while the family said their final goodbyes and closed the coffin, I was approached by one of the new fiancee’s daughters. I was impressed and touched by this young woman’s bravery. That must have felt intimidating, making the first move to break the ice. Once we chatted for a few minutes, she invited me to come over and meet the rest of the family. I took a deep breath and accepted her kind invitation.

Her grandmother immediately reached in for a hug, such a sweet action. While we were hugging, she whispered in my ear, “Your ex-husband is a good man and you can take some of the credit for who he is.” A tingle of ooey-gooey horror raced down my spine that she would say such words. I actually held the hug longer than I normally would in order to give myself an extra second or two to process her statement. I finally pulled away, saying nothing. She grabbed my arm and said, “I’m serious. You should take credit for what a great man he is.” It took every bit of training in basic principles of polite behavior and therapeutic work I’ve completed since this all started not to blurt out, “Excuse me?! The thought of taking credit for who he is is entirely abhorrent to me. I want nothing to do with any kind of credit for such a horrible, abusive man.” The extremely awkward and painful conversation when forth, with me tilted a bit off axis by her highly curious remark.  

That interaction left me in a semi-state of shock and I sat numbly through the service. All the rest of that day, I kept thinking: How could she have said such an insensitive comment to me? After all the pain, abuse, and anguish I’ve gone through, how could she say that he is a good man? How could she think I would ever want to claim credit for who my ex is? Was she mocking me?

But, no, it didn’t seem like the comment was made with ironic intent. She presented herself as a genuinely earnest and compassionate woman.

I didn’t sleep that whole night and woke up feeling emotionally hung over. And completely puzzled.

But then I remembered. This is my ex we are talking about here. This is the master manipulator. More and more people are informing me that he is spreading a rumor that we divorced in a mutual, amicable fashion. He sadly states to our shared acquaintances how we simply fell out of love with each other and it was time we finally end a mutually unhappy reunion. Of course, he fails to point out that after giving him every chance to change and be a better man, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, and is still full of the same enmity to this day. He somehow forgets about his years of cheating, lying, and betraying our relationship. He doesn’t remember to mention that his own children will do anything to avoid him because they are tired of his constant boundary-breaking cruelty. His soon-to-be-wife nor her family can see how he is isolating her and already grooming her for future abuse. I will give him credit, because the act goes on—at least he is dedicated to that.

I’ve now been divorced for over a year and I lived with the puppetmaster reality-shifter for twenty-nine years. I don’t know how I continue to be caught surprised by what he is capable of. It’s still difficult for me to believe that such profound levels of human evil exist and that people can find personal fulfillment through play-acting. I don’t live in or understand that kind of world. Of course that sincere woman was not mocking me. She is being manipulated by the master. She really believes that her daughter has caught a wonderful man who was just the unfortunate victim of a relationship with a cold, distant wife. And guess what? I bet my interaction with them seemed cold and distant because I was completely taken aback by their “everything is awesome” attitude and open admiration for my past husband. When she hugged me, I wanted with everything in me to whisper in her ear, “It’s not too late! You can save your sweet granddaughters from a sexual predator. Please save them!” But this isn’t my place. I’ve already warned their mom. Yet, there she was at the funeral, staring at my ex with eyes overflowing with adoration and with a sparkling, new engagement ring on her finger.

This is just another example in a long list of how I need to turn this situation with my ex-husband over to Heavenly Father. I can’t change what is going to happen to those innocent girls. I tried. The interaction with the grandmother was a difficult reminder that when innocents are caught in the concentric circles of an abuser’s grasp, they may say things that seem harmful, cruel even. But the truth is they are victims too, being fed a completely false story. Their concept of reality is being purposefully altered by a person who has no empathy, compassion, or true ability to love. These are decent people who believe, because they have no reason not to. I’m grateful that I was reminded that this family is one who deserves my prayers and sympathy, not my ire.

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