Please consider supporting this newsletter by becoming a
paid subscriber
or supporting me on
Ko-Fi
. Your support keeps this newsletter going! If you can’t financially support, (I understand) please share and like this post. Thank you
❤️
“Why do you gravitate to narcissists?” my therapist asked. As is custom in therapy, what I blurted out in response surprised me.
“I’m self-loathing, obviously,” I grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Aren’t we all?”
The look on her face told me we are, in fact, not.
Inadequacy is a stew constantly brewing beneath my surface (yum). My own personal belief of not being good enough is so deep-rooted I often fail to recognise it when it influences my behaviour for the worst.
The root of our issues with our internal selves are usually formed by events that occur when we are very, very young. In my case, early experiences manifested into a pathological desire to be liked by everyone I met (I haven’t spoken about that much, have I?), which means I spent many years jumping through hoops for people that didn’t deserve it. Kind of like getting slapped in the face by someone and then asking them how high they’d like you to jump, you know?
I danced with toxicity my whole life, stuck in a perpetual loop of engaging in unhealthy, co-dependent relationships with people I wanted to fix; doing the tango with people I should have left dafuq alone. Even now, a small voice says maybe I can still fix them, though. Tryna be fuckin Bob the Builder out here mate, allow it.
Coming to terms with your own self-destructive behaviours is hard. As my therapist broke them all down I nodded without listening - I was thinking about whether I should go to Tesco after my session and buy some turkey rashers to have in an egg sandwich when I got home - I deserve a treat after this, I thought. I just couldn’t bear to stay in the room as uncomfortable facts about myself were being reeled off by a psychological professional.
My therapist looked at me beadily; she knows when I mentally check out. “I’m onto you, Maryam,” she laughed.
Dissociation often occurs as a result of trauma, and most people who disassociate will suffer memory loss, chunks of their lives fading to black. I’m still trying to get those memories back. I need to practice self-validation, my therapist said. I nodded as I wondered if I should buy sourdough bread for that sandwich I was gonna make after this.
Emotional neglect in early life can create a desperate urge to fulfil the needs of others as you grow up - because subconsciously you think you’re useless unless you are at service to others. What you need comes low on the priority list, and that is where the problems begin.
Putting others before myself was a selfish act, really - it was a great distraction from the hard task of achieving my own complex needs, and dedicating myself to understanding others filled the gaping hole of feeling misunderstood in the world myself. Love without understanding is a very lonely place to be, and I’d felt lonely my whole life (apart from the besties that always get me, and they know who they are, cheers).
“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.”
―George Orwell, 1984
So I turned myself into a bed for people to lay their heavy heads in the hopes that I’d get that back in return (spoiler: I didn’t!). I put those I loved on pedestals which always resulted in me being crushed in disappointment when they couldn’t fulfill the role of this God-like figure that I'd built them up to be; it was a deeply unfair thing for me to do to them. Once you put someone on a pedestal, you take away their human right to make mistakes.
empath
/ˈɛmpaθ/
noun
1. A person with the ability to perceive the mental or emotional state of another individual.
Empathy that stems as a result of PTSD is a nasty place to be in. An emotionally unhealthy empath puts on life jackets for others before themselves and then they wonder why they're drowning. Empathy without self-love puts you on the road towards a dark abyss. As someone who has certainly been on the brink of my own dark abyss *chuckles*, I initially found myself in awe of narcissists when I first met them. They (often selfishly) put their needs first, vocalise their own self-inflated importance in the world so often you start to believe it and even though they’re arrogant with delusions of grandeur, they’re usually incredibly charismatic.
A narcissist will feed off an empath, and an empath will feel fulfilled in this purpose at first; it’s a dynamic that feels like it works quite well initially. Empath = introvert / narcissist = extrovert. The empath gives and the narcissist takes. Like Yin and Yang, darkness to light, the pair will feel like they fit. A person with a lack of healthy boundaries is a narcissist’s jackpot.
It starts to break down very quickly when a. the empath realises the relationship is draining them dry and they wake up almost hollow inside one day wondering how it happened and/or b. the narcissist gets bored because they’ve drained the other person dry of all they can emotionally offer. They aren’t called Energy Vampires for nothing. Someone with a narcissistic personality disorder is far more likely to cheat on their partner and/or inflict violence. You put up with unacceptable behaviour because you think one day they’ll revert back to their charming selves - let me tell you, you might get glimmers of that person here and there, but they’ll never return. They’ll only give you just enough to keep you in place.
In throwing myself off a bridge more than once for the former narcissists in my life, I lost some conviction in who I am. To this day I question everything way too much, from work decisions to dinner choices.
My therapist asked me recently, “Do you trust yourself?” I stewed on the answer for a while, but the truth is yes, I do. I just need to push through all the self-doubt I’ve picked up through this journey called life and remember that fundamental truth. I trust myself, and nobody knows me, or what is best for me, like I do. No-fucking-body, mate.
P.S I really recommend Dr Ramani’s Youtube page for tips on healing from narcissistic abuse.
Note to the reader: I feel I should say I wrote this like, a year ago.
If you like this piece and you want to further support my writing, you can like this article and comment below, share this page with others, support me on Ko-Fi, or get a paid subscription if you don’t already have one. If you have a paid subscription - thank you! Your support helps me a. literally survive and b. keep my newsletter free and accessible to all. So thanks, I love you, dear stranger of my heart.
She does it again 👏🏽👏🏽 this defo resonates with me, more people need to read this, will help so many ❤️
I can't believe my phone sent this email to spam, probably cos it knows narcissists are TRASH.
👏❤❤