As a Survivor of Narcissistic Abuse, there are times when BAM!! Out of the blue, it hits you!!
A mixture of rage, anger, hatred, and sadness. Then more rage.
You’ll be doing fine. And all of a sudden, it slaps you in the face.
It just happened to me.
I came across this picture that was taken a couple of months after I had to have three disks in my neck replaced.
Because the Malignant Narcissist piece of shit I was married to at the time threw me onto our back deck in a violent rage.
The way I landed herniated, or ruptured, three disks in my neck.
As I was lying on the wooden boards of the deck, he stood over me. “What are you going to do now, bitch?”
He sneered at me, then walked back inside and slammed the door, Locking it. Locking me out.
Then once again yelled, “What are you going to do, bitch? You can’t do shit now. Can you, whore?”
I was only wearing a T-shirt and panties when he threw me out like a bag of trash.
He had knocked me to the floor inside the kitchen and dragged me by the hair to the door. Then he picked me up and threw me.
In front of our autistic son.
So when I saw the picture again, the emotions I had suppressed came forth with a vengeance.
One of the reasons it takes so long to heal from narcissistic abuse is because you have so much to get over.
I’ve gotten a whole lot out of my system. But there seems to be an endless supply of emotional baggage.
What the picture can’t say is how traumatic and life-altering the injury was.
It can’t say how much I suffered for months before my neurosurgeon could get to me.
I was basically paralyzed. Yet in horrible pain.
The picture can’t say how much my son suffered because his mother couldn’t function.
What it can say is that I survived.
The Malignant Narcissist didn’t win. Despite many attempts to destroy me, he failed.
Before I close, I’d like to say a very special Fuck You to Chuck Henson. May you rot in hell.
The Author in 20/6, two months after surgery.