WTF, Universe???
So for all my good words of what, 4 hours ago… the universe decided to reward me with a few more kicks in the ribs… cause, you know, clearly there weren’t enough broken, yet.
I found out that K and J will be leaving the country for an extended period of time. I told them how great it was because K is going to spend time in his home with his own people around him and it may be as healing as anything he can do right now. I want him to get well so I will have him around for life not just the next few months. But it is still a blow to know they are leaving. It is hard for some part of my brain not to say, “See? EVERYONE abandons you. Nobody cares…”
Then I called my father about seeing a movie. Growing up movies and books were really the only things that my father and I really had in common. I tried to be a perfect little accommodating automaton for him, as children of narcissists may be wont to do. But I told myself that books and movies (only if I read the books he liked and saw the movies he wanted to see, of course) were something special that the two of us shared.
It was my little lie I told myself to make myself believe that my father loved me, that I was special, that I mattered… even though I knew in my heart that I didn’t, because, as soon as I read a book that he didn’t like, or watched a movie he didn’t like… he was all criticism and anger. It is very threatening for narcissists if anyone has thoughts, feelings, opinions that do not directly confirm their own egos. But I liked having the lie that there was something special my father and I shared…
And it had continued into my adulthood. We have nothing else, but I could at least count of being able to share an afternoon with him by going out for a meal and seeing a movie together.
Then he got a girlfriend. She likes the same kinds of movies he does (my mom never did, that was my special place in the family). Now, he doesn’t need me anymore (and narcissists don’t really love, they only need… when they don’t need you anymore… you no longer matter.)
I have tried to maintain some shred of the lie I once had. I have invited both my father and his girlfriend to some movies and we have gone out and had a pleasant time. But more than once we had planned to see an upcoming movie together, yet when I call to make firm plans with him once the movie has come out, he’s already been to see it with his girlfriend.
I don’t matter anymore.
Yet stupidly I keep trying. We had planned to see Lincoln. I even offered to make it my treat, dinner and a movie for the three of us. Today I called him… He told me they had already seen it. Told me it was great, I should go see it.
I could have told him I was disappointed, that we had planned to see it together, to make a special event of it. But I know from 3o plus years of experience that all that will get from him is defensiveness, anger, entitlement… Never point out a narcissist made a mistake, and god forbid you say something they did hurt your feelings. Nobody is allowed to have feelings except for the narcissist. So I said nothing. Like a good little child of a narcissist and felt worse than ever.
Not only do I have a Sir who can’t spare two minutes for me… I have a FATHER who has NEVER had a thought for me that wasn’t about how I could benefit him. I guess it’s no wonder I always found men to whom I meant nothing. I was raised to mean nothing. And to choke on it and smile and say, “I love you, you’re perfect” while my own soul withered and died.
So let’s tally…Â No word from Sir or Ryan, K and J are leaving the country for an indeterminate length of time (at least six months), my father is…exactly who he has been all my life, I should take a shower!
I got into the shower, feeling as if I was barely holding myself together and just like Kismet… like the universe offering it up right in front of my face… my razor. It’s simple enough to smash the blade out of a safety razor, but not necessary if you aren’t trying to reach an artery, just draw the head across your skin crossways and you can get plenty nice cuts from it.
I picked it up and held it in my hand and felt that feeling of teetering on a knife-edge. I wonder if all addicts have that feeling? The moment when the choice is right there in your hand… to give in to the craving, the need, to surrender to the whispers in your head (relief, succor, soothing comfort… nobody else will ever give it to you, you’re on your own… just a cut…or two… it’s winter, easy to hide… easy to lie… and you will have RELIEF…) or to set it down and feel the last scrap, the last flicker of hope for succor turn to ash in your heart…
Sir said once that cutting will mean instant dismissal from his service…
I thought of that as I was standing there under the water, staring at that razor. Instant dismissal. Suddenly I was laughing, a hysterical giggle, mixed with sobs… tears lost in the shower spray… Instant dismissal from his service which would look just about identical to my life right now… And at least I’d have the relief of the physical pain, the soothing blood, the endorphins.
Or I could lie to myself, like I have all my life, I used to be good at it. I could lie to myself again.. tell myself I mattered to him once, tell myself I meant something… still mean something… that I still honor and obey him in my heart… I tell myself my commitment matters even if I, myself, don’t.
I set the blade down.
You know, I thought the universe wanted me to cut myself, but maybe it’s getting even more humor from watching me twist myself into knots over promises to and threats by a man who has discarded me… It hurts to be so easy to throw away. But still… still… I won’t give myself the relief, I won’t ease my own pain, I will suffer, alone, miserable, broken… because I’m blindly and stupidly faithful. It doesn’t matter how he treats me. I am nothing, I have never been anything, I exist to please, to affirm, to validate, to make everyone else feel good about themselves… my pain means nothing, my heart means nothing, I am a good little child of a narcissist.
So I suffer. And the universe laughs itself into hysterics.
God I’m a fucking idiot.
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