I kept having this recurring dream where I am up in front of a court, trying to convince them that my dad is beating me. I am covered in bruises, blue and purple and yellow green, old and new all across my back. I take off my shirt revealing all of these marks, but no one can see them. I cry and plead with them, but they just look at me in this distant, slightly pitying way and see nothing. The only other person who can see is my dad, and he just sits there in front of everyone with this charming smile on his face, and I know that the moment I am alone with him he will add more bruises, fresh and red on top of the sickly purple, because I dared to ask for help.

On my sixteenth birthday I called my father and told him that I would not be coming home. I lived in a friend’s guest room for a week, and then moved in with my mom. My friend said I was like a mouse, keeping my head down, barely speaking unless spoken to, jumping each time the phone rang.

It’s been over three years. I’m slowly regaining contact with my father’s side of the family. They want to pay for me to go to college, which I am going to have to drop out of for financial reasons. Only now, mom says I’ve stopped laughing as much. I haven’t worn makeup in months. Worst of all, I’m not sleeping. I think I’m afraid to. I wake up with tears dried and crusted in my lashes. I think the dream is back.

Now when I think of narcissus I think of bruises.

Tysa:
I don’t know what to say, your situation is tragic. I hope you are able to find someone who can counsel you and give you some professional advice.

I do believe that they know exactly how un-fabulous they really are and every single word and action is a conscious attempt at convincing everyone else, and themselves, otherwise. They run from introspection so that they don’t have to face these demons. When they are not receiving enough supply,we get narcissistic rage, right? Yet another attempt to avoid the truth of what they are. One big fireball of distraction for them, destruction for us.

The narcissist throws everything away, casting blame and fault in the nearest container (that would be ‘you’, ha!). That’s because narcissists don’t know how to clean up their own toxic waste, so they dump it on others.

I like to think about the remorse process as an emotional recycling center for toxic behavior…ha! Even as competent as our recycling centers might be, we can’t clean up messes for TWO.

Hugs,
CZBZ

Sadly, that plain un-evil type can be so N. Glad you found my blog…there are lots of posts here on Narcissists.

“I have long given up on the human race babe. Have absolutely nothing in common with most people here n hope I get abducted by aliens one day… I am serious.”

Alien much?

Guess he misses his Alma Mater…..I maintain they all (N’s) went to the same school in outer space.

Susan – Thank you so much. You are very welcome!
You are the first book illustrator that I have heard from on my blog. Right now I have your book, and others decorating a fall display.
Even though my youngest is “too old” for picture books, I still check out book stores for new books. I will look for the one you mentioned, and add you to my blog roll if you don’t mind.
Thanks again for stopping by! : )
Elisse