The Need To Protect

My last post was perhaps my most controversial ever. I realised when I wrote it, that I was potentially victim-blaming. A family member struggles through and manages to flee relatively intact, from a horribly abusive narcissistic family unit. Here I am pointing out their responsibilities. Hardly anybody escapes the narcissistic family dynamic without at the very least a few narcissistic fleas. It is also extremely likely that they (the “escapee”) yearn for acceptance from their narcissistic siblings and parents. It is this yearning which leaves everybody exposed. Thus instead of having made an escape, all they have actually managed  to do, is bring fresh victims into the fray.

My belief these days is that protecting your family, even from blood relatives, is a primary responsibility. However too often, integrity  can be compromised, in order to obtain a few meagre crumbs from the table of narcissistic siblings and parents.


The Beginning

Sitting there in my comfortable room one evening, I was poised there with tears trickling down my face, as I listened to Desperado by The Eagles, I had decided to change my life. I had realised that, as in the song, I did indeed have to “Come to my senses.” I made the fateful decision to get serious about dating.

The last guy I dated before the narcissist was actually really nice but I had thought we were no longer a couple, as i had heard nothing from him in a couple of months. He had told me that he would be studying but hearing nothing for so long, I had assumed it was over. I was wrong as it turned out-more of that later.

I had been teaching, saving money and then travelling. I was definitely restless. The big event which I believe may have made me more vulnerable than usual was the death of my grandmother. We had been really close and I had adored her. (Even now I have a small picture of my grandmother by my bed.)

The bar at the dance had been unusually busy. We were standing in a line, in a very English way, waiting for a drink and I had started talking to a guy I knew. The guy standing with him, had soon begun to hold a particular fascination for me. I had discovered he was Australian and having not long returned from Australia myself, I was keen to talk about my trip. To be honest at that time, he had appeared quite distant. When I think about it now, I feel that he had not initially believed I would be good supply. Perhaps he detected that I would be quite hard work, which is perfectly true.

My experiences of travelling had left me independent-minded and something of a free spirit, so I was not a girl, who had danced around her handbag. I was more than happy to dance on my own. I was actually in the middle of a group , when he had appeared smiling and had begun to “strut his stuff” on the dance floor. I had thought he was hilarious. Naively I had assumed I had found another “free spirit”. He did seem a bit in love with himself, even then but I had had no idea of any possible danger. I was strong. I was independent. I had a career, many friends and I had always had a strong sense of self. I had had no reason to believe I would attract a predator, although I now believe he was not the first.We had a great time and I had felt an instant connection. He had seemed to share my quirky sense of humour and fun. Soon he had asked for my number, which I had not been able to recall, as I had only recently moved in. He had instead, given me his. He had given me his home number, his work number, his address etc etc. I had never had a guy give me so much information. Conversation was easy between us. Actually it often was, even towards the end. A few weeks before our split, some woman had actually commented to us, how comfortable and relaxed we had appeared. The irony had really struck me because by that stage, he had not been the only one putting on an act, although my motives had been different.

I have learned much about myself through all this. I had always had many male friends. I was relieved to find somebody, who like me enjoyed friendships with members of the opposite sex. I realise now he had his own personal harem. In fact I now believe he had deliberately paraded me in front of at least one woman(married) with whom he was having an affair. (More of that later..)

I had waited almost a week before calling him. We had soon excitedly organised our first date.


Yesterday I thought I had picked up a bargain. I was really pleased with myself. I got it home and did my research then sadly concluded it was a total fake. I was angry and upset with myself for the total waste of money. Using my imagination, I had then sought constructive ways to salvage my mistake. Sadly every time I view it, it now screams (metaphorically) ,


at me. Why?

Why am I so bothered by my innocent error?Why can I not just simply have fun with my purchase, regardless of its origin?

Unfortunately it is not the first time, I have fallen for a fake. Last time I was taken in by something fake, it was a fake relationship, which had cost me my freedom and had almost taken my identity. This time, at least I had recognised it. This time I had done my research and realised that it was not authentic, before the price was too high. Yes I could still use it (my purchase). It is still quite nice yet simply glancing towards it , somehow gives me a lurch in my stomach. The last time I tried to make the best of something fake, I had eventually let myself be convinced the fake was real. This time I am shrugging my shoulders, ignoring any short term loss I might experience and throwing it out.


Another Opportunity To Observe And Learn

One of the new toxic people in my life is trying to gain supply off me.I am going to use this as an opportunity to fine tune my grey rock skills. I have been praying whenever I anticipate an encounter with this being. I am playing dumb and observing them. It is interesting once you understand what is happening. Thank goodness I knew enough to be very guarded around this character. I sensed something, although I had initially wondered whether they were an empath gone awry. I have been an empath, who got off track, so I was inclined to be forgiving.

This was clearly a mistake on my part. I have had to pull right back.

I do miss my naive old self in many ways but I am grateful that I have been awoken from my slumber and shown the truth.

George Santayana

Eternal vigilance is the price of knowledge.

Personality Swap

How the narcissist gets us to swap personalities

One of the most chilling examples of this is Hedra in the film Single White Female.

From watching videos and studying the subject, I believe these characters often enter our lives, when we are in a weakened state. In this clip of Single White Female, Hedra ( the toxic flatmate) shows up, just as Alison is crying over a broken relationship. I watched this film when it first came out but have only begun to really understand it now, after my recent experiences. Hedra over time transforms herself into Alison, even eventually adopting Alison’s haircut and red hair.

Sources:From Surviving To Thriving From Surviving To Thriving

Movie Clips