My Path - Part II - Gene, the Cerebral Narcissist

There I was. Living in a beautiful city. Feeling like I was finally going to get to live the life I had always wanted to live. Yes, I still wanted to figure out a way to have my children with me, but there was healing to be done.

At the time, I was working for a huge corporation. I was traveling....a lot. My boss worked out of Houston and I was up in Bellingham, Washington. I traveled with him all over the world.

Gene was there. Always supporting me "as a friend". He would constantly tell me that I could trust him. (That is such a red flag for me now).

I was working so hard to find myself and become whatever I was suppose to become. I knew nothing of narcissism then. I thought narcissism was a character flaw of selfishness. I was wrong and very unprepared for what I had wandered into.

Gene wanted a relationship with me. He pushed for it. I was still married and fresh out on my own and....well....it wasn't going to happen.

Gene was deployed to Iraq. I remember thinking that it was a mistake of some kind to let him go off with our relationship so ambiguous, but I was still lost and hurting and well...it seemed stupid to be pondering something new with someone when I was still married.

Six months later. My world once again went into upheaval.

My father asked me to come home because he had some things that he needed to say to me. My dad always favored my brothers. I was long past trying to get him to acknowledge that he loved me, but still, the little girl in me wanted so much to hear that he loved me before he died. He had been sick a long time and I hadn't seen him or my mother in several years.

Gene told me that I needed to go and that he would pay for it. I told my dad that I was coming for the weekend only.

When I arrived, after midnight, there were tons of cars in the drive.

As I walked in, people I'd never met, hugged me. I found it odd that my mother had gathered her friends to welcome me home.

My mother came forward and hugged me. She took my hand in hers and said, "Your dad went to lay down while you were on the plane. He died in his sleep".

I never got to hear what my father wanted to say. I never heard him tell me that he loved me. The little girl within was devastated.

It was at the moment the phone rang. It was Gene. I couldn't even speak. He kept asking what was wrong. I couldn't say a thing. Finally, the tears began and I said, "My dad died while I was on the plane. All my mom's friends are expecting me to take care of everything. I can't breathe".

He told me to call the Red Cross and tell them he needed emergency leave.

I called my husband next. He said, "That's too bad. When are you coming home? You aren't going to ask me to come there are you because we don't have any money for that".

My next phone call was to the Red Cross. Gene came to Ohio to help me, to help my mom. The first night he was home was the first time I'd ever made love to him. I remember how safe I felt. How this man had come to me in a horrible time of need from half way around the world. Who would do that for any reason other than love?

When I flew back to Washington, Gene came with me. He would be going back to Iraq and I had purposed in my heart to make sure he had every means of support that I could muster. He asked me to marry him while he was home. I turned him down. My dad had just died and I was still married. It just wasn't time yet.

Over the next six months, I made myself available to him every time he needed me. He was dictating my life to me from Iraq. I saw red flags then, but I blew them off....repeatedly. He had come so far to comfort me and help my mom, how could anyone have ulterior motives when they are so giving.

He also began to pay my rent. I wasn't sure how to take that, but I was grateful because it helped me get on my feet that much faster.

As his time in Iraq began to wind down, he told me that he was going to be stationed in San Antonio, Texas. My boss was stationed in Texas. Texas is hot. I hate Texas.

Gene and I talked endlessly about my being with him, our getting married, him helping fight for the children....moving to Texas.

I gave up everything I owned. I gave up my "high-powered" job. I gave up my life......I moved to Texas.....for love.....for Gene because he needed me.

Summer had just begun. Gene had found us a three bedroom house. We were so happy....I was so happy. A few weeks later, my children came for the summer. Gene had hatched this plan that we would put them in school and then file for divorce. I trusted him and was all for it.

I had been in Texas with my children for six weeks when the bottom fell out. Looking back, I never saw it coming. I was working from a position that no one would purposely manipulate someone just for the power of it. I'd never heard of such a thing. But just because you haven't heard of it, doesn't mean that it doesn't exist.

I had been in Texas six weeks. Gene went to work and left his email logged in. Looking back, I'm pretty sure he did it on purpose. He knew that I had already been through hell. He knew it would do the most damage.

I began to read email after email to different women about how he was a victim of my insanity. How I had moved to Texas even though he had been against it. How he felt it was a horrible mistake to even be with me. All of their responses were comfort and love and come here and I'll make it all better for you.

There were several emails that had quite a different tone. All from the same woman in Canada. She was angry. I emailed her and asked her to call me.

When she did, I asked her who she was. She said, "You tell me who you are first". I said, "I'm Gene's fiancee. I live with him".

Her answer...."I'm Gene's wife and I don't".

From that moment on, I truly expected her to be cruel and punishing to me. On the contrary, she was so loving as I fell apart. We put the timeline together.

He hadn't come home on emergency leave when my dad had died. He had just moved his regular leave up a few days. He was already scheduled to come home to her. The first night he made love to me was their first anniversary. She had no idea he had come home. He told her that his leave had been cancelled.

I asked her why she wasn't with him now. She said, "He sent me an email that he was done with me and he'd met someone else. He never responded to anything else I sent him. He owes me a lot of money and I'm not going to divorce him until I get it". Her bitterness and anger were palatable.

I spent the next week trying to find the finances to go home. I had now been without a job for two months. I had my three younger children in tow and my dog. I was beyond devastated.

It was at that point that I called my husband. He sent me just enough money to feed us and for gas to get home. No money for hotels even though it would be a four day trip.

Gene came home from work to me packing up what little I had left. His reaction was to tell me that he knew I wouldn't stick with the relationship because I run at the first sign of trouble. He told me that I wasn't a very good catch anyway because I didn't please him.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I was leaving the next day. My dream of having a man watch my back and keep me safe was once again dashed and I was going to have to rely on my own wits to get through this. I kept telling myself that I would be able to do this. I had to for the children. I had no place to stay in Washington, no job, and no money, but I was determined to try and survive for the children.

That night, Gene came into the bedroom. He told me that he loved me and if I would just try it would work out. He told me that he needed help and would I please help him. I told him no. I told him that not only had I made decisions under a lie before I was ready, he had now set himself up to be the victim and I wouldn't be in a relationship with a man who manipulated women.

His answer was to push me down on the bed and rape me. Looking back. It truly was an out of body experience. He bent me in positions that I didn't know I could go into. To this day, I have constant pain in my right hip because of that night. When I feel it, it reminds me of how strong I am. How I can survive anything.

When he was done, he looked at me and smiled. He said, "Now you remember, you could have had this the rest of your life you stupid little cunt".

I limped home with a van load of stuff and my children. I left my dog behind because I couldn't fit her in. I still feel guilt about that.

But even more importantly, I realized....I never truly loved Gene. He had seen my vulnerabilities and exploited them. He had become what I wanted and it was that fake man that I loved....and I'd never even heard of narcissism.

My story continues...... here

My Path - Part I - My Marriage

Someone, who shall remain nameless, has asked me to share my story. I don't share my story very often mostly because it's as embarrassing as heck and for the simple fact that it's ugly. Besides, I think that whatever we focus on is what we actually bring into our lives. The result is that much of my life and posting has to do with family and career and not so much of the painful stages of grief that one goes through trying to figure out what has happened when one has been run over by the narcissism bus.

Last night this "someone" told me that I have been through hell and I should be reaching out more to help others get through theirs. Not sure how to do that, but she thinks that I am at a place to do that and well....whatever.

So I'm going to start by posting my story.......I may never speak of it again....but there you go.

I am 48 years old. When I turned 40, I began to evaluate my life. I was married at the time with five children. I was an at home mom, homeschooling my children. I felt that I was doing them a terrible disservice mostly because my husband at the time, while he is a man who would scream from the rooftops that he is doing his best, just wasn't providing what was needed to teach the children. I wanted them back in school and I wanted to go back to work so that we could pay off debt and buy a house. My husband was against that....all of that.

I had no access to our money as everything was in accounts in his name, although he told people that we had financial problems due to my "overspending".

I felt trapped and like my life was going nowhere. My weekdays were filled with never leaving the house because I had no car and no money. My weekends were filled with the same. My husband would sleep until 1 pm every weekend and then sit watching T.V. for hours. I am someone who likes to be out and about constantly. I was dying.

I asked for counseling and for us to build dreams together. I asked for a shift in his paradigm. He told me that I could go to counseling if I wanted to, but he didn't feel that he needed it and found no value in it and by the way, "You won't be paying for it out of my money". Since I didn't work, it was all his money. He was not a narcissist, but it was becoming quite evident that we were not on the same path.

Four years later....I left him. He believes that I went off the deep end and was having multiple affairs. I was not. He told people that I had left him to explore my lesbian side. I did not. He told many that I had abandoned my children. I had not.

I moved an hour away because I needed the space to find myself and I was also blessed to find a high-powered job that was willing to hire me on when I hadn't worked consistently as anything more than a consultant in eight years.

I did leave my children behind. It was the worst, most painful thing I had ever done. My rationale at the time was, how can I take care of them, when I can't even take care of myself. My only goal during that time was to get healthy and be with my children.

It was during this time that I met my first narcissist.

He was in the Army and pursued me ruthlessly. It was very nice that he was interested but I had no idea what I was dealing with at the time. He was headed to Iraq. We slept together for the first time, several months after I met him. Several months after I'd left my husband. Was I still married. Yes. I am embarrassed by that still.

My husband to this day relishes the fact that I am an adulterer. According to him, why our marriage ended was because I am an adulterer. He told me that I would never be a success because in God's eyes I had sinned and nothing good would ever come of it. He told my mother that I was old and fat and no one else would ever want me. His exact words according to my mother were "look at her, does she not realize that she has nothing to offer anyone". The psychological damage done over fifteen years was immense. Adding these statements in the end just destroy me further.

There was much going on behind the scenes of my marriage that I didn't know about. My husband's addiction to gambling. I had no idea and didn't find out until years later. It was the reason we never had any money. My husband's overly religious view on life which turned me so far against the church, I may never get back to what my faith once was. My husband's thought life and his pondering about his being gay. Who knew about that one either?

So there I was, I was vulnerable. Hurting. Desperate for someone to buy into my life and tell me that I had worth. Perfect pickings for a narcissist.

I'll continue the story. Mostly because it's time to talk about it. But first, I need to take a shower because it just plain makes me feel dirty.

My story continues.... here

The Weekend Quiet

The house is quiet tonight. I'm staying in....I suppose it's the result of going out last night with someone who is so much younger. It will now take two days to recuperate I'm sure.

The last of my children went out the door for their weekend activities about two hours ago. RR was going to hang out with friends. At 18 years old, he is one of the most mature people I know. Although, when I asked if he had phone numbers with him, he stated, "Don't worry mom, I wrote your name and number on the inside of my arm". Ahem.....very funny.

My little guys are with their dad tonight. No doubt cuddled up in front of the T.V.

It's quiet here and peaceful with only an occasional, "Get out of the garbage" spoken to the dogs.

I want to cherish every moment of my life. Having been through so much the last few years....having been run over by a man who only meant to harm me and still my precious self....the one thing that I have gained through that experience is to cherish every moment no matter where I am or what I'm doing or what has presented itself.

It's peaceful and quiet tonight because all of "the wild things" are on adventures of their own.

Tomorrow evening they will return with their noise and rumpus activities. As I hear them all come up the porch steps like a herd of wild beasts, I have no doubt that I will smile and enjoy that moment too.

Everyone Should Have at Least One Real Friend!

So tonight JJ and I went out for a girl's night out. Actually it started at about 10:00 am with the comments at work about how we both needed to go out and had probably needed a drink starting at 8:00 am. Rough week.

JJ is delightful in every way. I hired her as my assistant and when the President saw how good she was, he basically hijacked her. That's ok because I think she is just fab and I want to see her succeed.

The thing is....she is my friend first. And while she is 22 years younger than I am, I see myself in her.

I know that she is my friend and would do anything to see me successful too.

Everyone needs friends. I have very few, but those that I do have are stellar. To be able to work with one of them is better yet.

She told me tonight that for my big 50 birthday....she is taking me to get a tattoo. She has several very cool ones and I have ALWAYS wanted one but for various reasons have never gotten one. I gotta tell you that was the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me.

We made a pact that by May 29, 2010 we would both have men who love us deliriously. Then we "spit" into our hands and shook on it. I laughed until I cried.

I had so much fun tonight. I'm really glad that JJ is who she is....although she is somewhat of a dork....but she knows that and somehow that just makes her all the more perfect....I love her for that too.

My Son

This is a picture of my son in Iraq before he received his Purple Heart. When a person is injured in a combat zone, they receive a Purple Heart medal as an honor. My son received his in 2005.

This is where my son was riding when an I.E.D. or hidden bomb went off next to his vehicle causing a head injury.

The officer that called said that when he woke up from his coma, the first thing he said was, "Please don't send me home, my guys need me".

This is my son. He is the product of a family grown on five generations of Marines. My son and one of his cousins are the fifth generation. My son spent four years serving his country as a Marine....until he was injured. He went back in and now serves in the Army.

When he was home on leave from Iraq this time, he announced that he intended to be a lifer, being in the military will be his career. Not like he went into the family business or anything. While I am so proud of him, I burst sometimes....still there are times what could be and what could happen wash over me.

I'm sharing this website. I do hope you will go there for no other reason than to honor those that have served with my son, those that will never go home to the mothers that love them so much.

http://www.mapthefallen.org/

This is my son.....and I miss him tonight.

Biting Off More Than I Can Chew

Ok.....so my diet lasted almost two days. I was feeling less bloated and cranky and then we had the great shoe incident of 2009 which put me over the edge and down the ravine and there you go....the diet was toast.

Although I keep reminding myself that this was a lifestyle change. Harrumph.

MM couldn't find his shoes yesterday morning. He and his brothers, RR and SS tore the house up looking for them. Nothing like a frantic phone call from his eighteen year old brother worried about him being late to school.

Actually it was about 64 phone calls in the first two hours of my work day, but I digress.

In frustration, I finally said....just let him stay home.

After work, we went to pick up shoes and that was my excuse to get McDonald's (which is a food source that is straight from the bowels of hell I'm sure).

It was at that point that I shoved a quarter pounder meal into my mouth.

Ok, deep breath. This morning as I drove to work, I pondered. It's amazing how much I ponder and have often been accused of pondering too much, but there I was doing it again.

When are the times in my life that I've really lost weight and kept it off? Only one time that I can remember and that was when I lost seventy pounds.

I hate cooking so the minutia of recipes is daunting for me. This new diet has recipes and I hate that fact after only two days.

Ok, so what was life like when I lost weight and kept it off. Well for one thing, I didn't obsess over food. No recipes, counting hours so that I don't go too long without food, or the dreaded calorie book.

I made sure I got enough water. I exercised every day. I tried really hard to listen to my body and stop eating when I was full. That was it. That was all that I did.

I think I will try that again,because I do not have the brain power to plan with the detail needed to be on this program and I find myself looking for excuses to run off with myself. Perhaps it is just an excuse. I'll ponder that one tomorrow.

What do I want to be?

Life has changed over the last year.

I'm finally in a place where I feel peace. I finally have a job that I love doing what I've always wanted to be doing. Granted my boss is a weird pain, but he is a good man and he is fair. Can't ask for better than that.

My children are happy and healthy.

The men in my past are finally fading into my past. Amazingly enough, I don't think incessantly about LOML or anyone else anymore. The occasional sad when I'm triggered, but it usually passes quickly and when it doesn't, I have friends that will comfort me until it does pass.

I guess I am at a place to ponder...what am I going to be, who am I going to be...now that my life has taken this turn and I'm off onto another course I hadn't planned for, here I am nonetheless.

Tonight, I have been pondering people I know. People I admire and think really highly of....

S is a beautiful woman who somehow manages to wrap her life around two of the most beautiful children I have ever seen. Both of these children have autism, but S makes it look so easy to raise them. She is my hero. I want to be like her. To go through life, knowing who I am and what I'm all about. That is what she has taught me.

T is incredible. She has found the love of her life and amazingly enough he adores her and loves her back. What a rare thing! T has spent so much time working on herself. She was ready for him when he arrived and she embraced him. He embraced her back and the rest is history. T is my hero because everything that comes out of her mouth is truth and focused. Everyone needs a friend like T and I'm so glad she is mine. T is my hero because she knows who she is and she is happy with her life.

M is my hero. She is accomplished, focused, and raising beautiful children, but more importantly, she just plain loves her life. She can laugh at herself and see the complete absurdity of life and yet, forge ahead she does. M is my hero.

JL is my friend and hero. I worked with her for just a bit, but she and her family are deeply entrenched in my heart because I learned how to give second chances from her. When all is chaos around her, she is the epitome of peace and calm. I don't know how she does it. I want that ability so much.

I want to be just like every single one of these people. They each embody a trait that I absolutely love and want. I have great friends who have seen me through much. Counting my blessings...and if I left you out. I didn't mean to....I'll catch you next time. I promise.

I'm not alone....

I've been reading a lot of blogs lately. It is amazing to me how many people suffered and are currently suffering from NPD victim recovery. I could have written each and every blog they post.

Sending out a collective hug. We each and every one of us need it.

Keep posting ladies. I need it so bad.

It's Time

Why is the phrase "It's Time" so often associated with birthing? Can it reflect a large change of some kind? Ok, realizing that there is no bigger change than becoming a parent...why then if I choose to use it to birth a big huge change....well....whatever.

It's time.

I lost seventy pounds about five years ago. Yes, you heard me right. I've kept it off for the most part. Why haven't I lost the rest? Good question for which I have no concrete answer except to say that between being devastated by divorce and the relationship with LOML, the upheaval of being unemployed for an appallingly long time....(insert whatever excuse here).....I just never made the effort to lose the last one hundred or so pounds.

People tell me I carry my weight well. Ahem....they are wrong.

So tonight....on the eve of a new food program....I refuse to call it a diet because it really isn't....I am shouting out to the world that I want to be healthier. I'm going to lay down my fat which I have used repeatedly as a barrier of protection and begin to live differently. It's time.

I have lived in fear of failure most of my life and my weight has been an excuse that I am choosing to get rid of now because....it's time.

I want to love myself and in so many ways I have gained that perspective over the last few years. But it's time to move past my fat to become what I am truly meant to be. It's time to focus on this one area to which I have clung to as an excuse to avoid the intimacy that I seem to be longing for although I'm not sure that is completely accurate either.

It's time to use this program that deals with the heart and mind as well as the eating habits to get to the root of whatever the issue is. I'm all about root issues at the moment. I may as well deal with all of them right? After all it's time.

Five Months from Today

In exactly five months, I will be walking off a plane in Rome.

My friend, who goes to Italy every year, tells me that Rome is the place to get my mojo back.

Not sure what mojo is, but I'm lacking something so I'm taking her word for it.

In a weak moment, a bad day at work, a momentary lapse in judgement a couple of months ago....I bought a ticket to Rome.

Five months from today. I will get my mojo back...I better go on a diet.

Feeling Gray

It's been a whole year of no contact with LOML.

He has tried to contact me at least twelve times. I've seen him at one stop sign. People have tried to tell me about him.

A whole year.

In September, it will be two years since he devalued and discarded me.

Two years.

And yet I still see the world in gray.

I'm dating now. Kind of alot.

Everyone I go out with seems to be more of a disappointment than the last.

It's all gray.

And yet...today....

I took three of the children and one of the dogs to two dog parks. The sheer joy of watching everyone romp and play...bliss.

We took the dog to get a bath at the do-it-yourself dog bath. I laughed so hard watching them...bliss.

We went to the movies and to dinner. Lively conversation there...bliss.

I'm about to watch a girly flick with FF. No doubt we'll cuddle up...bliss.

I miss my joy. I miss the way I used to see good in everyone and anticipate all that each day had to offer.

I see every single thing in gray these days. I forge on.....but I wish I could forget what that horrible man did to me.

Run Baby Run

My beautiful daughter FF is in track.

On any given Wednesday in the Spring, I can be found in the stands come rain or shine.

A couple of weeks ago, it was pouring. Not a dainty rain, I'm talking buckets. I was freezing and wet, shivering and just plain miserable.

Her first event was to run the mile. When FF runs, I noticed that she looks back....alot. I could see it slow her down every single time she did it.

She came to me after the race. She had finished near the end, but she was proud of her time and proud of herself.

"Why do you look back when you run", I asked.

"Because I want to make sure I'm not last".

As I waited for her next event, I pondered that answer. How often, when we are running the race of life, do we spend time looking back....slowing our healing down.

I am so like that. This past week was a week of sadness and triggers as I spent so much time looking back. I slowed my healing down, I know that I did.

When FF lined up for her next race, she waved at me. She knew I was there, I always try to be there. Yet she wanted to make sure I was watching. Do I make sure I'm connected to my support in my life race? I don't think I do it enough at all.

She ran with all her heart as she always does. In the end, she was proud of herself. Cold, wet, but proud. Had she won? Not even close, but she ran with everything that she had. It was beautiful to watch.

When we move through life with everything that we have, it is nice to know that our support system is there cheering us on. It's also ok if we don't finish first as long as we keep going with everything that we have.

I want to stop looking back. Grieve, heal, forge ahead. I plan to keep running with all my heart.