You Don’t Know What You Don’t Know
It’s Complicated: Lit Up & The Writing Cooperative Contest
I knew something might be wrong when I casually tossed my wallet from the back of the SUV into the front seat. He thought I threw it at him, grabbed it and threw it back at my head.
I learned not to toss anything his way. (literally and figuratively)
I knew something might be wrong when he verbally slaughtered a waitress because there wasn’t enough mayonnaise on his sandwich.
I learned to handle the business dealings.
After years of being reminded (by him) that I was an awful dancer, I overheard this conversation upon my return to our table after dancing alone at a wedding.
His cousin, “Wow, I didn’t know your wife is a dancer. She can really dance. I’m impressed. You must be so proud!”
Him, “She is one of the best dancers I’ve ever met. I don’t dance with her because she is better than me. She makes me look stupid.”
The depth of the emotional manipulation touched my core. The realization overtook me.
I discovered (too late) that I was in a relationship with the worst of the worst on the personality disorder spectrum.
My self-esteem. Destroyed. My sense of reality. Warped.
I learned that he is a narcissist and I…his narcissistic supply.
Narcissists come wrapped in irresistibly attractive, shiny bows.
And there is no treatment and there is no cure.
I almost killed my spirit trying to help a person whose soul was lost in childhood.
I left the emotional battlefield behind. In winter.
A season for everything.
You don’t know what you don’t know.
Now, I know.
If only I had a crystal ball.
