The Risks of Hiding from Others
Recovering from echoism, a developed adaptive response to narcissistic abuse
Off to one side of the large room there’s an open seat. Threading through a group of women, I make my way to that spot. Doing this, however, is what I hate. For a moment, I’m sure every eye is trained on me. Anxiety blooms in my chest and spreads out to my limbs, as my mind races ahead, pleading for me to leave. Anything to make this uncomfortable feeling stop.
This old anxiety is familiar. One I’ve known from the early days. It began when my youngest sister made her appearance, shifting us from a dyad to a triad. I can still see in my mind’s eye my sisters’ heads bent over some project, lost in the activity. As I neared, they would swivel in unison, protecting their special bond. Their action clarified there was no room for me.
I’m not that girl anymore, and this is a different situation, I remind myself.
Now situated on the couch in the back corner, I fold my hands and try to look interested as I tune into the conversations around me. Tonight is the first night of women’s retreat for separated or divorced partners of sex addicts. I know I’m with like-minded women, who like me, are working their recovery. It’ll get better, I tell myself.
