Narcissists and the Mentally Absued

Imagine:

Having to reply within 10 minutes

and if you don’t, you get 5 missed calls and 5 text messages asking where you’ve been and sending a video to prove it.

Imagine:

Waking up in the morning and getting a coffee, then your day is ruined. You’re ridiculed because the first thing you did was get coffee, and it wasn’t talking to him.

Imagine:

Hanging out with a friend. Keep in mind, this is after the hour long conversation of “Who are you going with? Where are you going? What are you gonna be doing? How long are you gonna be out? Text me if you go somewhere else. Don’t forget to send videos.”

Imagine:

Cooking for your boyfriend. He’s on your laptop watching youtube videos, or so he says. But instead, he’s going through your pictures to make sure your words have matched up with what you said you’ve been doing.

Imagine:

Your boyfriend find a year old photo of you with a beer in your hand and he threatens to break up with you, leaves your house and ignores you the next few days.

Imagine:

Explaining who the new follower is on your instagram account, every time. Wether you know the person or not, you better come up with a good explanation of why they want to follow you.

Imagine:

Your boyfriend breaking up with you every few months just for him to make sure you’ll cry and beg for him back.

Imagine:

Losing all of your friends, worst yet, losing your best friend. Imagine wanting to break up with your boyfriend, but you physically and mentally cant because he has brainwashed you to the point of believing when he says “no one else will love you cus you’re so sensitive and your best friend is a guy. No one would put up with that like I do.”

Imagine:

Finally breaking up with him and you go crying to your mom. But instead of being sad, it’s a cry of happy tears because you know that this time you won’t go back, and you know you’ve said that 5 times before, but this time…this time its real.

Imagine:

Years later you’re going through your photos and you come across a video. You double click on it and watch it. I’ll cut to the chase here and tell you, it’s a video of me on a bouncy castle looking like i was having the time of my life. But in reality, the memories of this night haunted me and apparently, they still do. I can’t bare to listen to his voice. I cringe, my body tenses up and i have no other way to express what I’m feeling in those 8 seconds but to write this. Yes, this whole thing was based off of an 8 second video (more like 4 cus i couldn’t stand to watch the whole thing). I kind of feels like I’m overreacting, but at the same time i can feel the blood speeding through my veins and my hands sweaty and trembling.

Anyway, the thing i want each and every one of you to take away from this is: Mentally abusive relationships are not a joke. You may ask “why cant they just break up with the person and get over it.” Well, i can speak for most of the mentally abused and tell you that they cant. I spent two years trying to break up with my ex and saying “I can’t” and the only person who believed me was my therapist. To this day, people still don’t believe me.

Relationships with the mentally abusive, narcissists, gaslighters and so on, are not a joke. And though it may seem like the person is portraying as happy and stable, especially on social media, they could easily be going the same thing i’ve just explained above. Check in on your friends, family and even strangers for that matter. And if they need support or help, do what you can to them get what it is that they need.

I may or may not attach the video to this. Just for the sole purpose of showing a first hand example how a silly 8 second video could seem happy to someone, but behind it could be someone who needs help.

I wrote this lightheaded, spacey, hot, and shaky. Here’s why.

Okay, so I’ve never been good with introductions. That being said, Im unsure how ease into this. So, welcome to the unfiltered part of my mind. (Think of this as a girl taking her thoughts and releasing them through her fingers onto her keyboard).

Growing up, I had a lot of mental health issues and really, just issues in general. (I hate to use the word “issues” but i don’t know how else to put it, they truly were issues). I was depressed, I couldn’t control my anger, I had severe anxiety, battled with selective mutism, many other undiagnosed health issues and I had mourned before any child should have to. But for now, Im going to talk about the POTS Syndrome and anxiety. Here are the definitions:

POTS: “Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that affects circulation in the body. POTS is a form of orthostatic intolerance, the development of symptoms that come on when standing up from a reclining position, and that may be relieved by sitting or lying back down.”

Anxiety: “An abnormal and overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear often marked by physical signs (such as tension, sweating, and increased pulse rate), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat, and by self-doubt about one’s capacity to cope with it.”

Thought you knew me? Think again! Let me give you a little setting to picture this better. Right now, I am in the guest bedroom, the window is as wide open as it can go, I’m wearing a tank top and underwear with a huge gatorade bottle lying next to me. I have blurry vision, sweaty palms and armpits(and I’m constantly having to wipe them because the sweat literally trickles down my arm. Sorry, tmi? Get used to it.)  My hands are shaking as they always do and I’m texting my mom back and forth about how to handle this situation. And by now, you’re probably thinking, “okay why is she telling me what she’s wearing and updating me on the status of her window? I really don’t care” I’d be confused too, but here’s why:

About an hour ago I met up with a new friend. This was our (short but stressful) itinerary: get coffee and walk on the beach. And for anyone with decent health conditions, this is not an overthinking matter. But for me, oh boy, let me tell you, on the way there, my thoughts were running like a dryer on full spin. “What if there’s no parking?” “What if there IS parking but his truck can’t fit into one of the spots?” “What if I can’t get the lid on my coffee and I spill it?” “What if I start sweating uncontrollably?” Well, we both found a parking spot, I got the lid on my coffee and it didn’t spill, I did sweat, but I wiped it with the tank top I was wearing under my jacket and moved on. Point is, these “what if” questions pretty much control my life.

Alright so, conquer the coffee shop with my unreasonable fears, check! Slayed it. Now to take on the next place, the beach…

I’ll save you from the boring “here’s what we did when we walked on the beach!” Still don’t get my point? Well, we walked on the beach. BUT I will mention that my thoughts were still racing. “What do I say?” “What if he doesn’t like silence as much as I do?” “What if he thinks I’m boring?” “Can he see the sweat on my forehead?” “What if I need to rest so I don’t pass out?” “Does he notice I keep playing with my hair or adjusting my shirt?” Welp, I found something to say, he didn’t mind silence, who cares if he thought I was boring, he was sweating too, I didn’t need to rest, and yeah, he probably did notice me fidgeting in anxiety.

Coincidentally, we talked about getting out of comfort zones together and if we’ve ever gone to a nude beach. Like WHAT?! (for the record, yes, I have. And he asked If I would do it again, my response? “Hell yeah, no doubt.) So what the fuck is wrong with me? I can practically make a plan to go to a nude beach, butt naked, without question, but I can’t bare to think if he sees my anxiety slip out. Answer: nothing is wrong with me. Im fine. Right? ….right?

So, beach walk, check! Not too shabby. Its not like I passed out from heat exhaustion or needed to take a break from walking for 20 minutes. (Frankly, I knew it was gonna hit me at some point, it was just the matter of when). But, everything went well and to be honest, I didn’t really want him to leave for his 5:00 plans.

I drove off, smiling and still sweaty from walking on the beach. My thighs were sticking to the seat, air conditioner on full blast. Then it hit me. BAM! Dizzy spells, lightheaded, blurry vision, spaced out and shaky all at once. I didn’t know if I could keep driving. But, I knew how to deal with it, it’s not like it was anything new! To the gas station we go, two bottles of gatorade for the electrolytes and a can of Pringles for the salt. Then back home to rest. Which brings me to where I am now… You know, the half dressed and spacey side of me.

(I don’t really know how to transition into a new paragraph here so bare with me.) My point is, doing everyday things is tough. I’ll avoid going certain places or doing certain things because I know the repercussions. And if I know I’m going to be doing something in the sun or something that requires exercise, I’ll plan for it the day before by giving myself time to eat and drink an excessive amount beforehand. Then take a blood pressure pill when I head out of the house. Again, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I hate it. I hate the obsessive anxious thoughts before doing something or having to rest up after doing things that require a small amount of activity. But it’s who I am. Im trying to come to terms with it, but my god is it frustrating. I’m not trying to throw a pity party here, either, by the way. I feel like I’m just writing this for me because I know not many people are going to see this, after-all, this is an anonymous blog with at the most 2 followers.  Anyway, I’ll probably end this here and post it later when my head isn’t so fuzzy and I’m not so spacey.

 

 

 

 

Emotionally Unavailable Lover

He’s emotionally unavailable but I’m in love with him & he doesn’t know.

Don’t you know I understand what makes you feel less of a man? I get why you fuck and leave. I know why you go distant and then come running back, showering me with love. I hate it, but I love you and I can’t seem to stop. It hasn’t even been a month since we ended things but it feels like years. I want to talk to you, tell you I love you, tell you I care. But I can’t, I know it’ll make you run further away. Commitment terrifies you. Emotions petrify you. Love freezes you like a deer in headlights. Remember, I understand what makes you feel less of a man. Frankly, I don’t mind the things that make you unavailable, it makes me want you more. I love you but I hate that you won’t let me.

Let me love you.