Category: Fighting the Darkness: Richard and Tracy Story

Reblog: Narcissists, Phones and Your Right to Privacy

First, please note that I don’t endorse *everything* on the site I’m reblogging.  I agree with a lot of it, but occasionally there are things that bother me.  Still, I came across the following post which validated me after dealing with the ex-friend Richard‘s wife.  For example, from Narcissists, Phones and Your Right to Privacy, by Dr. Tara J. Palmatier, PsyD:

If your abusive narcissistic, borderline, histrionic, paranoiac, psychopath spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend has demanded your passcodes and logins, that’s not normal. It’s controlling and tyrannical. If you’re in an abusive relationship, you don’t have to be “hiding anything” for them to have a rage episode or make wild accusations about infidelity or anything else they can manufacture out of thin air.

Your sister could text you to invite you for coffee and the borderline or narcissist control freak-abandonment fear switch is activated:

Why does your sister want to have coffee with you?! Why wasn’t I invited?! Why can’t I be there?! What are you hiding from me? If there’s nothing to hide, why wasn’t I invited? Your sister is being disrespectful to me! She should’ve asked me if I could go at that time before she asked you! You love your sister more than me! Is there something going on with you two?!

Wow.  This sounds SO familiar, the rage episodes just because I wanted to go out for coffee with Richard, the insistence that if I didn’t follow these unspoken and unknown “rules” I wasn’t “respecting” her.  Then there’s:

If you’ve surrendered your phone to your partner, please consider doing your friends, family and colleagues a courtesy and let them know your partner reads all incoming and outgoing messages. You may not care about your right to privacy, but some or all of your friends and family probably do. Also, they may want to bypass written communication with you altogether because, as previously, noted, there doesn’t have to be anything to hide. An abusive asshole can turn nothing into something with the misfire of a synapse.

Last sentence: And yes, yes she did just that after snooping, leading to the end of this “friendship.”

When I found out that not only did Richard have to “clear” all his friendships with his wife, and going out with them for something as simple and innocent as coffee, but that his wife also had a habit of checking his phone records and e-mails–I was appalled.  I would tell Richard things about my past experiences or about things I currently dealt with (such as fears or philosophical questions) which were not meant for his wife to see.  Nothing “affair-y,” but things I only wanted my trusted best friend to see–and I did not trust his mean wife with these things.

It all struck me as being very abusive and controlling, but she kept insisting that these things were all her due, that it was showing her “respect.”  Over the years, I’ve perked up whenever friends on Facebook or some TV show or Internet article goes into the issue of friendships and a spouse’s right to privacy.  And over and over again, the same thing is said: Don’t try to control each other’s friendships!  Respect each other’s privacy!  Run from anyone who tries to control you!

Comments are turned off because this is a reblog.

 

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Anniversary: 10 years since Richard moved in: Letter to Narcissist ex-friend

Richard, you and I have an anniversary today: It’s been 10 years (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) since we met in person for the first time and you moved in with my husband and me, our son, and Merry and Pippin.

I remember what an anxious and happy day it was.  I was excited to meet you, though I was also very shy.  I gave you soup because it was a fasting day and that’s what we had.  My shyness lasted for days because you didn’t look like your avatar, and I couldn’t match you with the voice on the phone.  But then we started talking music one day, and it all clicked.

I know you–or at least Tracy–still read here, so you’ll see this.  Can you believe it’s been that long?

At the time I did think you were the coolest person I’d ever known.  Thought of you as my spiritual mentor and brother.  Loved you dearly.  I had no idea all this crap would go down.  I still think fondly on that time period even though I now believe you were manipulating me…. Was any of it for real?

Fortunately, God has given me new friends so I no longer grieve you like I did years ago.  I have been growing especially close to one.  They don’t dictate to me how I should act or what I should think, or tell me my feelings don’t matter or that I’m just being ridiculous or that sexual harassment or abuse never happened.  They don’t call me crazy or intimidate/threaten my husband.  My close friend is also a fellow introvert, is a writer, and is obsessed with German stuff just like I am.

But that doesn’t mean that gaping hole in my heart no longer exists.  It’s just been–covered over, I guess.  I don’t forget people; my friends stay in my heart forever even when I forget their names or haven’t seen them in 30 years.  Even my old friend-with-bennies is still there, despite how he mentally abused me….

You know Merry and Pippin are gone now, and that little boy is now a teenager.  He has two spice finches.  The library is a library again, but also a game room now, with the futon so guests can sleep there instead of on the couch.  And we have a regular couch again.  We also remodeled the bathtub.  Things look very different now but still much the same.

Sounds different since nowadays I listen to Goth/EBM/Dark Electro/Industrial all day on the stereo instead of alternative/hard rock.  🙂  Upgrading technology made the difference there: Before I could only listen to over-the-air stations on the stereo.

I’m learning Greek–I’m Father’s top student–starting the third year now.  He keeps telling people not to talk to me in English anymore.  I run the church website.  I’m a regular member of the local Writer’s Club.  But then, you probably know all that, as a regular follower of my blog.  😉

My son’s brilliant, and currently working on a Lego robot.

As the years pass I keep thinking that no time has passed at all since October 5, 2007.  But now the weight of the years is just beginning to fall, a little bit at a time, even though it feels like I just blinked my eyes and 10 years passed.  It is scary because if 10 years can pass so quickly, so can 20, or 30, or 40.

But for that reason I’ve been trying to spend my time wisely.  Not in grieving over you anymore, but in following my passions–such as music and, especially writing.  The Muse is back and she has taken a seductive hold of me.  The characters of my book first appeared more than 30 years ago, and now they’re back, sucking me into their world; I think this is going to be my masterpiece.

But Orthodoxy?  Not the hold it once had.  Sometimes I wonder if I only went into the church because of you, because I felt lost when you were no longer there to remind me of why I became Orthodox.  But my dear, close friend of 5 years is in the same church, a fellow convert, so I have someone to talk to again about religion.  And the congregation feels like family now, so that keeps me anchored.

Religion itself has been alienating me lately, from a malaise over reading the Bible over and over so many times I no longer see the words, cynicism over who really makes the rules and how they’ve affected many women and LGBT, and Phariseeism taking over conservative churches while they wed themselves to the fascist Republican Party.  Though I refuse to give up on God or Jesus.

So much is the same, but so much is different.  I sometimes wonder if anything about you is different as well….And how much of the person I knew was real.

Happy tenth anniversary.  That’s tin/aluminum, so here’s a can of beer:

Anniversary: 10 years since Richard moved in: Letter to Narcissist ex-friend 1

 

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“The violent intimidate the gentle”: I found this poem on “my” narcissists

Every week, I back up my files onto an external drive called a My Book.  I just finished backing up my word processor files.  While scrolling through them, I found a forgotten little file which I last modified on September 27, 2010.  I opened it up to find out what it was.

It was just written to vent privately about this, and most of it is just a rant I want to keep private.  But I also found this poem I want to share, because for a first draft of a rant-poem, it was better than I expected.  I suppose fellow abuse/narcissist victims can find something in it for themselves.  Also, it demonstrates the fear I was in during that time period, and the intense feeling of betrayal:

the violent intimidate the gentle
my idol has feet of clay
the hitting could turn on us
your threats have turned us away
betrayal by one who was dearly loved
you know what really happened
my gosh what is she doing to the children
if we report it we will be beaten
where is the love?
where is the Christian charity?
where is the fight against evil passions?
why must I take all the blame?
where is the friendship that was lost?
it’s all been blown away
you hurt the ones you love
and the ones you hate
and they need to grow up and take it

 

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Healing from abuse by friend: “Our movie” no longer stings

Yet another milestone reached in healing my heart from the betrayal by my former best friend:

A few months ago, I DVR’d The Trial, a 1962 movie with Anthony Perkins and Orson Welles, based on Franz Kafka’s unfinished work of the same name.  I wanted to see it again, but I wondered how I’d take watching it again: My former best friend and I watched it–dang, nearly 9 years ago now–back when he lived with us.  We loved it, and it sort of felt like “our movie.”

You see, I don’t know how it is for neurotypicals, but I attach sentimental value to movies I see with close friends.  That movie now connects to them, no matter how many years have passed, especially if I saw it for the first time with them.  Such as Addams Family Values, which I saw in the theater with my best friend from high school.  Or Wayne’s World 2, which I saw with my college roommies, or Lord of the Rings, which I saw with several old college friends along with the Hubby.

I watched many movies with my former best friend while he lived with us and after he moved out.  I don’t remember them all, but the ones I do remember, have attached to him.  So I have avoided those movies ever since.

Last year, I watched The Apostle for the first time since 2008, when I saw it with Richard, my former best friend.  Then, too, I feared that it would twinge my heart to watch it, but no, it didn’t.  Same with many songs which attached to him back then; I hear them now and then on my favorite Goth webstream or in my MP3s, but they no longer twinge my heart.  They used to be so painful to hear that I didn’t listen to them for years after Richard–who turned out to be a narcissist–betrayed me.

I feared The Trial would hurt to watch, while at the same time looking forward to watching it.

(First I wanted to re-read the book, which I first read in 2010.  I then lent it to Richard, but the betrayal happened, so I got it back from him, and it was covered in spaghetti sauce.  I thought I cleaned it, but found yet another stain before reading it a few weeks ago.  Yet more evidence that he wasn’t the friend I thought he was: He didn’t even have consideration for my books.  😛  )

I feared it would hurt to read, but it didn’t at all.  I barely thought about Richard while reading it.  Then tonight I watched it and–no, no pain at all.  Well, other than the typical purist reaction to a favorite book being adapted into a movie and things getting changed.  I barely thought about Richard while watching, except to think, “Hey, it’s not painful after all.”

I guess time really does heal, even when you think the hurt is too deep.  Think of how it would feel to Sam if Frodo finally threw him over for good: That’s how deep the wound was for me.  Only to discover later that Richard apparently didn’t feel at all the same.

Of course, I don’t know if actually physically seeing him again would hurt like it did back in 2010 and 2011, when he came to my church.  Maybe, maybe not.  Probably not nearly as bad.

When I saw him back then, after a year of healing and recovering, I came home and bent over crying, then was plunged back into a deep depression.  So you see, this is why I haven’t wanted to see him at church again.  (I haven’t wanted to see his wife, either, but that’s because she’s probably the meanest person I’ve ever known.)

I have worried about this for years, especially when the hypothetical merger of my church with his, became reality earlier this year.  But I still haven’t seen him there, so I doubt he wants anything to do with my church.  So I don’t think I should worry and wonder about that possibility anymore.  Which would be good, because that worry has been gnawing at my stomach for years now.

There are several movies which I haven’t seen in about 9 years, since I saw them with him, even though they’re old favorites.  I have avoided them on purpose.  Maybe it’s time to pull them out again.

 

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