A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 32



Dear A,

I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer.

Those were my last words to you. After yet another all nighter of flaring tempers and cruel accusations, you had at last resorted to violently abusing me, appeasing the monster within, finally letting loose upon me the raging fury that I’ve through the years come to know as the essence of you. I was expecting it. It was a matter of time I guess. Still, I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer after that. Truth be told, I never knew.

Your nickname for me was a projection. You chose to name me after the savage storm that whirled rampantly around us the first time we met, whipping strands of my long red hair into your face, making your coat flap in the strong gusts of wind, forcing me to hold on to you tight from the very first. You became the uncontrollable whirlwind spiralling violently into my life that night, and through fleeting moments of hesitation I sensed your primitivism, your absence of a cultured layer; I was appalled at the darkness of you, I was enchanted with your choosing of me. The overwhelming sensation of needing imminent escape was there too, I knew in my heart what you were; I moved even closer; you see, I had been looking for you too. Therefore I willingly invited the chaos of you into my life, the random blowing and shattering of me into millions of shards and tiny pieces; the storm gaining strength and then again, loosing force, closing in on me and leaving me far behind; again and painfully again. It was all there from the start. I somehow knew. Yours was the kind of icy wind that would chill me to the bone. Yours was the kind of ferocious storm that would leave nothing behind. Inexplicable, raw, true to its destructive core.

We were both addicts you and I. You to power. Me to pain. A perfect fit of damaged goods, formed out of the same abusive clay, differing only in how we coped with our childhood wounds. The predator and the victim. Together we set about the daring journey of unraveling our past, reliving our twisted paths, moving deliciously slowly through the intricate steps of the glorious dance of complete destruction, savouring the sweet taste of pure annihilation, turning into flames and ashes as we progressed, uncannily repeating the patterns we both knew so well.

You unsettled me deep within, you touched the untouched. You burnt a scorching hole in my safe existence, stealing my laughter and my joy, tearing me apart, punishing me harshly, controlling my innermost being, putting an all too high a price on love and pulling the strings of life and death in our eternal struggle.

I readily offered myself to you at the altar. Submissively I shivered with pain and pleasure in front of you, giving up my soul to the emptiness of you, loosing sight of all times but the present, crawling in the dust, mortally wounded by your horrendous assaults, bellowing in the wind from the pain of it all, not making the slightest sound as my dry lips repeatedly tried to form those devastated sentences that consisted of my begging and pleading with you.

You were my destroyer, I surrendered to you; you were my saviour, forcing me to kneel in front of the pain of the past. You punished me for what was in your nature, I felt gloriously alive reliving the highs and the lows of my childhood, being able to truly feel again, finally finding the love that is the only love I know of. So who actually victimised whom? Who was the parasite, the emotional vampire; who was the abuser and who was the abused? Who fed off whom? Who sought redemption from whom? You who could not feel, I who could only feel with you? You who will always be that vast empty space in universe, sucking all object matter into you; I who will treat my lessons learned like precious pearls, wearing them close to my heart, moving on eventually with more insight, trying to undo the damage of the past?

It’s all so quiet here now. Even ferocious storms will eventually abate, the utter calm in the aftermath of our viscous tosses and turns is in a way peaceful to me. I miss you still. I still wake up with the thought of you, I still fall asleep with you on my mind. But my all consuming need for you is gone.

I don’t forgive you. I never will. You wounded me deeply. You hurt me irreparably. You poisoned my heart, you taught me to hate.

I forgive you. I always will. You brought me back to my beginnings, made me confront my fears. You taught me what love is not. You set me free.

You on the other hand will never be free. My cage can be opened through self awareness, your bars will never be removed. I choose through my emphatic nature to search for happiness now; that is not a choice for you to make. You will be forever pacing there in your self made imprisonment, your vision clouded, the beauty of life and love escaping you.

I don’t know how to hold on to you any longer. Those words still echo within me having now finally let go.


10 thoughts on “A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 32

  1. WiserNow says:

    This is a fantastic letter. I love how the metaphor of the storm vividly runs through it and then the sense of calm when the storm is over. It creates a visual picture that’s beautifully painted with words.

    The addictive process of two opposites coming together and the perfect fit of “two damaged beings formed out of the same abusive clay” is both poetic and perfectly described. And the lesson from it all is learned by only one of them.

    Thank you for writing and sharing this letter Catherine. It was a joy to read. While reading it I related very much to your pain as well as to your ultimate healing, growth and power. Your progress gives me a positive feeling of hope. There is indeed power in vulnerability, and sometimes that power is discovered only when a high price is paid.

    All the best to you and may your gentle soul be protected from any future storms.

  2. Carol M says:

    You’re the best Catherine, I bow to you.

  3. DebbieWolf says:

    Such a powerful letter. So beautifully written. The words are tangible and I felt them in my heart.
    Thank you Catherine for writing and sharing it.
    May you find lovely new things that bring peace and healing to your mind and heart and that you find true happiness going forward.🌹

  4. /iroll says:

    “I sensed your primitivism, your absence of a cultured layer;” – spoken like a true self-aware masochist, you nailed it. You fell in love with the evisceration of boundaries, as an event, but that comes from being an existential power house without the need for external structures to give you an identity. This is especially true for people who have experienced alienation while maintaining a connection with themselves. They however, erode structure via an opposing – demoralising process that strips away all subjectivity, because they’re existentially empty. They fight death because they can’t use the power of death to change their construct, they’re not strong enough, they can’t face the truth. You were stronger, they’re the real victim of these superficial power mechanisms that the weak cling to. Not the same as the courage to be vulnerable – and thus create and be subject to evolving structures, at all.

    Sarah Connor, storm chaser! Bravo <3

  5. Quasi says:

    Catherine, I adore your letter! It is just stunning. I hope that you are incredibly proud, not only of this amazing piece of writing but of you! And your wholeness of being!

    You have captured your light of insight and self reflection and have shined it over the duality of the mind. The split mind, the emotional and rational mind. I can sense that your understanding of self has empowered you, and this is a beautiful sight to behold.

    I had also come to believe that truly acknowledging the role we had to play in the relationship with a narcissist; and taking responsibility for this and what we decide is releasing and empowering. Why should we give them the power over our conscience mind ? Yes they influence our thoughts and feelings, they manipulate our minds, and can take from us. Does part of us let them?

    I too feel that I gave a lot willingly, he did not make me do things, I made my own decisions, many with a full understanding of his darkness. When I decided to stop giving in a willing capacity he slunk away back to his shadow. In truth he could not control me once I decided not to allow him that ability. I can never say that this was easy or that I did not feel pain; as it was in absolute conflict with my emotional mind and the formed attachment to him, but I could still choose.
    His cage is dark, I choose not to visit it again.

    Freedom of choice is a truly magnificent concept when you can see that you have it! I was more free when i consciously decided to own who I am, every light and dark part of me, only then could I be whole.

    I still have strong emotional thinking, and in a way I would not want to change this, it helps me gage a better understanding of where I am at, it helps me self reflect as to my reactions to stimulus and therefore understand myself better.
    It helps me test myself, it helps me to be fallible, which in turn allows me to be humble and grounded.
    I also believe that it helps me to be brave, it helps me to put myself out in the arena for potential judgement and ridicule, and when I’m knocked down it helps me get back up again; through this process I learn the most valuable lessons, and can feel my own internal strength.

    If I eradicated my emotional thinking through fear of being hurt, what would I be left with- my rational mind alone? I would be like tin man from the wizard of oz!
    What would I feel? Could I heal fully and feel whole? No I don’t believe this is possible. I could be hard and resilient, tough! But if I can’t feel anything then this is not meaningful for me, I choose to feel – even the bad shit!

    This letter has had a significant impact upon me, do you think I liked it ? Lol
    Catherine I love your use of analogies throughout. And your beautiful use of language. Bravo this is truly EPIC!!!!!!

    I see a brave, fierce and beautiful soul when I read this letter. I do not believe that anyone can affect your light again!

    Thank you so much for sharing this absolutely amazing letter x

  6. Tra says:

    My favorite letter, Catherine! I wish you the best on your continued road to self-awareness, healing, and freedom.

  7. 69Revolver says:

    HG, I think you’ve just met your literary twin.

  8. MB says:

    Beautifully written Catherine.

  9. Caroline says:


    I love how you express yourself…real… vulnerable… insightful…poetic…powerful.

    (You’re my girl crush. ;-))

  10. Omj says:

    So powerful . Thank you Catherine. You thought me what love is not. Very powerful.

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