Passenger
When I come along in my luxurious and expensive motor vehicle it is too difficult to resist that open passenger door and you hop in without hesitation. I won’t be taking you for a gentle drive through undulating countryside nor for a meandering excursion along the coast. No. It is straight to the motorway. You are pinned back in your seat by the sudden acceleration as we speed away. You let out a laugh, delighted by the surge of excitement as I move straight into the fast lane and the speedometer needle climbs as we go faster and faster. It is exhilarating to be driven along by such a confident and masterful driver.
The motorway I take you on has been purpose built for me. It cuts through the landscape, not going around or under or over but straight through. There are no obstacles for my motorway. It is direct and effective. Its construction bludgeoned everything else out of the way as it made its mark on everything around it. Nothing could stop it as mile after mile it stretched across the land. Nothing gets in the way of my motorway.
You marvel at how quickly it takes you to so many different places. You smile as you press your nose to the glass and watch the signs flash past ‘Desire’,’Heaven’,’Excitement’ and ‘Delight’ are all signposted. My motorway takes you to these places in a matter of moments and no sooner have we visited one place then we are back on my motorway, speeding through the night to the next location. The motorway takes us direct to the best restaurants, the most exotic destinations, the concerts where it enables us to drive right up to the front of the stage and the hitherto exclusive and difficult places you always tried to reach are suddenly in front of you, all courtesy of this expansive motorway network.
My motorway never has traffic jams, is free of roadworks and always takes the most direct route to the destination. It is breath-taking how fast we travel along it, yet you always feel safe, content in the knowledge that I am taking care of you on this modern and well-maintained transport route.
Occasionally you see people that you recognise stood on the hard shoulder. Some of your family who watch as we speed by. You see your friends who are parked to one side as we race along. You raise a hand to wave to them but it is too late. We have already rushed by them leaving them far behind, just a passing blur. You are not concerned however as you see the next sign detailing our destination and the anticipation rises as you await your arrival at this glamorous place. All thoughts of family, friends and supporters have been left behind, as quickly as we drove past them.
Sometimes you think you see a warning sign flash on one of the overhead gantries but I am driving so fast along this wide motorway that you cannot be sure.
“Did that say danger ahead?” you ask as we zip underneath another illuminated sign.
“Oh it just a routine test, you do not need to worry about that,” I smile and you are instantly reassured. You settle back in your seat as the world and your life flashes by but you are too focussed on what lies ahead at the next destination to worry about what is passing you by. This is the ride of your life and you never want it to stop.
The car suddenly brakes to a halt. Tyres squeal and smoke drifts past as the vehicle violently stops. You lurch forward in your seat and almost bang your head on the dashboard. Disorientated you right yourself as the passenger door opens.
“Out you get,” I instruct. The smile is gone and is now replaced by a face you barely recognise as I stare ahead.
“Sorry? What?” you splutter in confusion.
“Time to go. You need to go that way,” I state aggressively and point behind you.
“What do you mean? Why have we stopped? I don’t understand,” you protest.
“Out!Out! Out! ” I bark and suddenly frightened you scramble out of the car and stand trembling on the tarmac.
“Your life is back that way,” I add as the passenger door slams shut and you watch as I roar off up a slip road next to a large sign saying “Fuel this way”.
You watch me disappear from view and then turn to face the silent and empty motorway which stretches away into the far distance. You start walking, confused and upset.
The walk back to your life is just like my motorway.
Dark grey and long.
18 thoughts on “Passenger”
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HG, I find it interesting that those of us that participate in your blog and interact with you here seem to generally be less aggressive and antagonistic toward you when compared to those that comment on the same posts on Facebook. It seems to me that on here we are actively trying to understand and although we may not like what our narcs did/are doing to us we see this as an opportunity to learn from a self professed narcissist but without the personal connection. Facebook seems to be more reactive and less interactive. Does this different level of participation annoy you at all? Your thoughts?
Hello Sweetsoul, I think there is force in what you say. Of course the irritation and anger shown towards me on FB is just fuel albeit at a low level. The most effective way is to use the information I provide, be respectful but you do not have to like me, I have no issue with that but nor do you have to be defiant. The defiance is just fuel and misdirected because no matter what the people on FB may state, they would not defeat me, they are not telling me anything I have not heard before so if they think they are “getting to me” they are not. I absorb the fuel and smile at their behaviour. I prefer the constructive engagement that occurs as my fuel needs are met elsewhere, as I repeatedly explain, I do not do this for fuel.
Thanks HG. I’m fascinated by behaviours on Facebook and often wonder at people’s motivations for their comments in general, not just on your page. I guess I’m now in the lucky position of feeling nothing for my ex narc (no emotions at all either positive or negative) whereas they may not be so lucky and being unable to address their emotions with their narc seek to send it your way instead as the next best target.
“I’ll be racing the clouds home. . .
I’ll be racing the clouds home. . .
You can shut your eyes
You can hide it away
It’s gonna come back another day. . .
Racing the clouds home.
I’ll be racing the clouds home…
Chasing the clouds home”.
– Lyrics from Marillion; end of the song White Russian.
Dramatic music and lyrics.
Says it all.
I feel the music here deep down..these end lyrics a defiant lament applied to different circcumstances than the song subject matter, but heartfelt and passionate sentiment nevertheless.
‘Racing the clouds home’
🙈🙉🙊
Ironically, the only passenger is the narc.
“When I come along in my luxurious and expensive motor vehicle it is too difficult to resist that open passenger door and you hop in without hesitation”
I know it’s just a metaphor, but I had to laugh at that because he did have luxurious and expensive cars, several of them. But I didn’t know that till a while later.
And then cry at “You watch me disappear from view and then turn to face the silent and empty motorway which stretches away into the far distance. You start walking, confused and upset.
The walk back to your life is just like my motorway.
Dark grey and long.”
FU.
This is what it was like, but I have a query for you H.G., since you began therapy and writing all this out, has it started you thinking about not being so much of a dick?
Dick? Ah you mean Devil Issuing Considerable Knowledge. People need me to be that, so I will carry on. Thanks for the thought.
You always have an answer 😉
That is the nature of the beast SVR.
I cant look at the word Boss the same way, now this.
There is no end is there
Your word game there made me think….my ex did things like that all the time in The Beginning…he’d text me all sorts of little anagrams in place of conversation (they mostly but not all had sexual answers and weren’t particularly intelligent for example LMD = lick my dick) He also wrote in capitals declaring his love for me (very early on of course) and used my whole name at times too. It was a combination of interesting, curious and exciting – obviously all well known tricks to a conman.
Years later, In sneaking the inevitable peeks into his phone(s) at the end I discovered his seedy and sordid texts to my replacement in training. They were all the same!! Word games, declarations of love in Upper case and using her first and surname.
I know the pattern/cycle of narcissistic behaviour is repetitive but the actual minutiae of it too? In such detail?! Is it just that your kind use things that work well with each victim and discard things that don’t? Learning on the job so to speak?
And here you are, essentially doing something similar. Now…you are either my ex, or your kind all seem to share a universal language. Other people I know who have also had long term relationships with a narc have said their ex said very similar things too. I know there are tricks of the trade regarding emotionally conning someone (use of the word “we” for example) but to use exact same phrases and even events is strange. It’s like there’s a guidebook or something.
And what’s with the “tells”? Mine used to give me all sorts of info masquerading as ambiguous comments at the time but which i now see as him telling me about himself….This testing of the water – seeing how we react and whether we suit requirements – is not a cry for help? Giving us insight into the horror and darkness in the hope we’ll not leg it, but stay and have the necessary equipment to make your hurt all better? Of course, we always let you down (in your eyes) but if it was a cry for help then does that not mean that you think we can help you; would like us to help you, ergo you CARE and that’s an emotional response n’est pas?
I’ve been down that highway and it was an exceptionally fabulous ride. In saying that, I became more and more aware of the road signs along the way and suspected we were on a road-to-nowhere. I am still on my way back with that fabulous car periodically offering me rides. The thing is, the car’s driver doesn’t seem to get that I am enjoying the hike back. The route I am taking is far more scenic and full of insight. I never really lost my way, even when he had me on that vast motorway, he didn’t realise that I was taking in more than what was happening within the car. Other than in the very beginning, I’ve always been aware of my surroundings and could see, in full view for the most part, outside all the windows. They were fogged up to begin with but as the ride went on they became clearer and clearer.
That is so true. Well said.
When viewed as a thrill ride, even the passenger can have fun. Plenty more where that came from.
“Not your mothers broken heart”
Great analogy!
pfft..
Indeed it is but keep heading back for normal human beings as when you get there life is wonderful and this time you are awake. Safe travels in the right direction: home to find you