A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 37




Yes, this is what we called each other, since you are loath to use my name to my face. But I see you used it quite a bit, when either bragging to others about me, or smearing me while you explain that you don’t discuss that particular situation with me, since I become hysterical for no good reason whatsoever when it is brought up.

You see, I knew what you were the last time I left you. But I let you hoover me back into clutches. You used your pity plays, and appeals to my morals. You did treat me super good in comparison to how you did before. You also threw in some literal grovelling at my feet, since there was no one else around to witness this. You used your pretty, pretty words so much, I didn’t even object to your entitlement and control as you slowly tightened the leash around my neck again. See, your ID tag still hung there. That was most important to you, as when the arrows of truth were sent your way, you held me up as your shield of goodness and righteousness. After all, you must be wonderful to have had stayed married to such a kind, caring, generous, trusting, trustworthy, intelligent and loving wife. And after all, you were so willing to sign a contract just to be able to talk to me amicably about our impending divorce. But the divorce never happened since you were so good with words. And as for that contract, well, now I see your word and your words are truly empty. You had already broken that contract within 2 hours of signing it. Specifically the provision YOU insisted on; no lying. The second was no use of finances not agreed upon by both parties.

You seemed so happy to have me back, you announced to the world, (or really to those where you needed to have your “good” reputation intact) how happy we were to be back in each other’s loving arms where we belonged.

You smiled happily to my face where you once more held up the gilded mirror, replacing that ugly warped funhouse mirror you had been holding up to me for so long! Unfortunately, I let down my guard. “Really, he is so ill at this point. How much more harm could he possibly do?” It turns out there were so many “surprises” left for me. (Definition of surprise: presents left around the house by pets that you ignored when they danced around you begging to be let out. As in “The dog left you a surprise in the middle of the living room carpet.”) You seemed to be housebound, only able to go out for short whiles to take care of small errands. It was so kind of you to do your small share to lessen the load on me.         ”I know you are busy running our business, taking care of household chores, caring for me…blah,blah,blah.. I went to the pharmacy myself. It’s only 2 blocks away…” “You are so busy using up your energy on me, I will take care of the bookkeeping and the family finances.” Always said with a sad smile, a slight tone of disappointment, as if I were still not quite measuring up to your standards, but you would accept your fate with the good grace you suddenly seemed to have acquired.

When you received your terminal diagnosis, the mask really slipped again, as you railed against (y)our son and I, as if this thing happening to you was our fault. But we put up a united front, not cruelly, but firmly. We would be there for you, for whatever treatment was possible or desired. But you would not be allowed to abuse us for this to happen. And then we shored you up for your final performances. I made the medicine, you were sure would cure you, as I had for others before. Did you not have proof that it worked? I gave even more of my energy, and I actually got thanks and kudos from you! Very rare indeed! And you did your part, too, didn’t you? Your sneaky, underhanded machinations! Oh, how you called on all your supplies, oh woe! When asked how I will be faring without you, you told them all, ”Don’t worry about my Honey. She owns her home free and clear, and has been well provided for.”

But I’m not Honey; I’m Sweetheart.

And when that last text came, inviting you for one more command performance, you could no longer accept. And the jig would soon be up. So you had one more fit of frustration, threw the phone to the floor, and stomped on it, yelling “Why don’t they ever work right!!?” I had to replace it, to continue to work, to make the doctor’s appointments, for outside communication. And I sent yours to the repair.

You shockingly tried to strangle me in front of your current best friend, (you would have never let anyone see such behavior before) and he said, “It really is time for the hospice to be here round the clock, now. He would never act like this in his right mind. (Not that you would ever let anyone outside the family see, but friend wouldn’t know that) How long has it been since you slept?”

As you were literally rotting from the inside out, you called another friend to help bring you to Jesus. You cried and prayed with him, and when he had gone home, you unleashed your cruelest, sweetest lies. “I’ve never cheated on you!!” You and I both knew you had. 3 times. It turned out there were many, many more. “I have left you well off, there is $110,000 in ready assets. I have invested as you taught me, and I know with your smarts, you will be able to increase that substantially!” Last we had discussed our bigger financial picture, it was $500,000 and with the way it was going, we’d be able to retire comfortably, right on schedule. Not only was there no assets, you had even found someone to pretend to be me, so you could steal my separate assets, an actual felony! “You are the only woman I have ever loved, always, from the beginning, and now, and forever!” No, you only ever loved what you saw when you looked into the mirror of my face, and only when it matched your best estimate of yourself.

But I could not feel any grief at the loss of you. I had pity for you, and I kept my promise that you would not have to relive the nightmare of being abandoned alone in a hospital. I also felt guilt that I did not miss you, was not sorry you were gone. And I rejoiced that life, without you, was wonderful again.

But you found ways to try to ensure that I would pay. I owed you for not being perfect, whatever your definition of that, at the times of your judgments. I owed you for the privilege of carrying your name. I owed you for non sufficient worship of you. I owed you for letting me be main source of your supply. How sad! I just wanted you to be happy no matter who you were with. If I’m being truthful, though, I just wished one of them would keep your interest long enough for you to discard me.

But really, all these surprises were not that surprising. You did keep me searching for the assets for several months. And I was hurt and shocked when the call came from your “Daughter” wanting to know when her Dad died. That was the punishment for us both, since she was now a young adult who no longer worshiped her Daddy in the way and amount you demanded, and my punishment when the answer to your “hypothetical” question years before was not only would I not welcome and support any bastard you produced during our marriage, but that I would also leave. I have no idea what you and her mother would have told her about me. She seemed to think I would be happy to hear from her and learn about her existence. I told her if she wanted to keep that pretty picture of her dad, she should never contact me again.

How unfortunate that I gave your NAPSS (Honey) the means to blackmail you, she threatened you with the loss of your good Mommy and your easy income. But you didn’t lie to your relatives and friends much on this account. Yes, I had bought Honey and her family a home with no mortgage, new cars, and University educations. I didn’t have these things, but I see now that I could easily afford them if I still wanted them. The financial hellhole you left me in will eventually be remedied. Your now repaired phone and your burner phones have given me a lot of information. You have stolen my identity, my time, my love, my money, but the worst that you have done is that you have stolen my trust. You plucked the feathers from my Angel Wings till you thought I could no longer fly and that I’d be forced to immolate myself upon your funeral pyre.

You did not understand that I had not been an Angel for a very long time.

And I now have one of your very own kind on my side; an Elite, no less. He has given me the knowledge that I will need to go on with my life, and if I listen very carefully to him I will avoid your kind for the rest of my life. I will own myself, no one else; and I will let no one own me. Those tattered Angel Wings you last saw on me, have been replace by the wings of the Phoenix. I have been burned, but now I rise from the ashes, a new creature, better than before.

PS.   I am having so much fun without you…I went to a comedy club the other night, just by myself. When they were looking for a place for another woman arriving by herself, I offered to share my table. She said her boyfriend had to work late, she had come by herself. She asked if I was waiting for someone. I told her “No, I just came out to enjoy myself, my husband has just died recently, and I am getting back to the business of living.” “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she replied.

I told her “Don’t be. I’m not.”



6 thoughts on “A Letter to the Narcissist – No. 37

  1. nunya biz says:

    Well written and moving letter, Persephone, thank you for sharing your story.

  2. Kelly says:

    Persephone, I’m glad you survived and you’re living your life, enjoying yourself again. Cheers!

  3. Joanne says:

    Love to hear your happy ending, Persephone. What a storm he blew through your life but you ARE the phoenix! Badass strength.

  4. Sisty says:

    You are my heroine, Persephone. I too do things by myself just for the joy of doing them, without the worry he put in my ahead about whether I was too old, too undignified, etc. The sick thing is that I have no real ties to this man — we’re not married, not living together, don’t share bank accounts, have no children together — he’s just a vicious little man who I fell in love with during the seduction phase and then spent the next eleven months trying to understand what made him tick so I could love him better. When I read stories like yours, I realize how narrow my escape route had become, but also how much, much worse it could have been for me. Thank you. I live near Washington DC, and any time you want to come out blues dancing with me, by ourselves, I’ll be ready!!

    1. Joanne says:

      Same. These stories reaffirm for me how fortunate I was to have been shelved/disengaged from/discarded/whatever. I could have easily ruined my life with this narc.

  5. Christopher Jackson says:

    Wow what a punch line at the end had to feel good

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous article

The Revision of History

Next article

Little Acons – No. 5