The legend and reality of Narcissus.....
Anyone who has read Greek Mythology remembers the story of Narcissus. "He was a beautiful creature loved by many but Narcissus loved no one. He enjoyed attention, praise and envy. In Narcissus' eyes nobody matched him and as such he considered none were worthy of him." The story of Narcissus is where the term Narcissist comes from. Narcissism is unfortunately a story I know far too well.
I was at my best friends house the other night and we were watching Dr. Phil. The topic at first was comical; "My husband wants me to look like Beyoncé". As I sat watching the first few minutes of the show, the things that were coming out of that man's mouth were so unbelievable that my jaw hit the floor. Completely ridiculous requests like, wear high heels at least 4 days a week, wear makeup to bed, and clean the house in lingerie. They were so asinine they were laughable. But then he kept talking and I started having some sort of PTSD flashback.
My ex husband is the very definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental disorder in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance and a deep need for admiration. Those with narcissistic personality disorder believe that they're superior to others and have little regard for other people's feelings. He had a deep seated need to be the center of attention. He wanted to be placed on a pedestal. He wanted the world, and me, to basically stop at his smallest need.
He was ready for children before I was. However, I don't think he realized that he was more ready for the idea of children, than the actual reality. When I had my daughter, he went from number 1 to number 2. When I wasn't sure I wanted to breastfeed, he convinced me that it was best for our baby; but then became jealous and resentful when it was time for her to nurse.
That need for importance and adoration "drove" him to start with first virtual, then actual affairs. Of course I thought that I'd done something wrong. Of course I wanted to make things work. But at the time, I didn't realize the walking disaster that I'd married. He told me that, "it was my job to make him love me like he used to", and "if he'd been happy at home he wouldn't have cheated". I tried and tried to make things work. I did just about everything that was asked of me, slowly losing myself in the process but not realizing it. If I was worried about him telling the truth, it wasn't his actions that caused it, it was my lack of trust. Everything was turned on me. If I snooped in his phone or questioned his whereabouts, there was never any sense of responsibility for his own actions. It was always "why do you have to do x or y" or, "what need do YOU have that you have to ask these questions". Nothing was ever his fault. Everything was mine. I was too stupid to get a job. Too fat to find someone else. Nobody would want me but him. I should be thankful that I had what I had. I should be glad that he didn't hit me, or drink, or do drugs. I should count my blessings. If I didn't cook what he wanted for dinner, he would go to McDonald's and eat it in front of me.
People asked me for a long time why I didn't leave. When you've been told for years and years how lacking you are, and that everything that went wrong was your fault; it's easier to stay. It's easier than facing the world out there and being rejected again; getting affirmation that he was "right". I justified his actions by telling myself that "it could be worse".
When the marriage finally ended, I was terrified. I didn't know if I could make it on my own. I was in uncharted territory. I went straight from my father's house to my husband's house; and had never been alone. As the weeks, then months, then years went by; my life changed. I found self worth. I found self confidence. I found self esteem. I eventually found what love was supposed to be.
I was at my best friends house the other night and we were watching Dr. Phil. The topic at first was comical; "My husband wants me to look like Beyoncé". As I sat watching the first few minutes of the show, the things that were coming out of that man's mouth were so unbelievable that my jaw hit the floor. Completely ridiculous requests like, wear high heels at least 4 days a week, wear makeup to bed, and clean the house in lingerie. They were so asinine they were laughable. But then he kept talking and I started having some sort of PTSD flashback.
My ex husband is the very definition of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental disorder in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance and a deep need for admiration. Those with narcissistic personality disorder believe that they're superior to others and have little regard for other people's feelings. He had a deep seated need to be the center of attention. He wanted to be placed on a pedestal. He wanted the world, and me, to basically stop at his smallest need.
He was ready for children before I was. However, I don't think he realized that he was more ready for the idea of children, than the actual reality. When I had my daughter, he went from number 1 to number 2. When I wasn't sure I wanted to breastfeed, he convinced me that it was best for our baby; but then became jealous and resentful when it was time for her to nurse.
That need for importance and adoration "drove" him to start with first virtual, then actual affairs. Of course I thought that I'd done something wrong. Of course I wanted to make things work. But at the time, I didn't realize the walking disaster that I'd married. He told me that, "it was my job to make him love me like he used to", and "if he'd been happy at home he wouldn't have cheated". I tried and tried to make things work. I did just about everything that was asked of me, slowly losing myself in the process but not realizing it. If I was worried about him telling the truth, it wasn't his actions that caused it, it was my lack of trust. Everything was turned on me. If I snooped in his phone or questioned his whereabouts, there was never any sense of responsibility for his own actions. It was always "why do you have to do x or y" or, "what need do YOU have that you have to ask these questions". Nothing was ever his fault. Everything was mine. I was too stupid to get a job. Too fat to find someone else. Nobody would want me but him. I should be thankful that I had what I had. I should be glad that he didn't hit me, or drink, or do drugs. I should count my blessings. If I didn't cook what he wanted for dinner, he would go to McDonald's and eat it in front of me.
People asked me for a long time why I didn't leave. When you've been told for years and years how lacking you are, and that everything that went wrong was your fault; it's easier to stay. It's easier than facing the world out there and being rejected again; getting affirmation that he was "right". I justified his actions by telling myself that "it could be worse".
When the marriage finally ended, I was terrified. I didn't know if I could make it on my own. I was in uncharted territory. I went straight from my father's house to my husband's house; and had never been alone. As the weeks, then months, then years went by; my life changed. I found self worth. I found self confidence. I found self esteem. I eventually found what love was supposed to be.
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