No Contact is the holy grail of escaping from the grip of our kind. It is the of course, for numerous reasons, both on your side and ours, it is not always possible to achieve it. Nevertheless, because No Contact amounts to ignoring our kind, it remains the most powerful tool in the victim’s armoury. You are always advised to implement it and keep it in place when you have ascertained that you are dealing with one of our kind. Not only does it provide you with a period of respite after a tumultuous period of time, so that you can recuperate and gather some much needed strength, it also reduces drastically our effect on your because we operate so much based on our interaction with you. Although we may derive Thought Fuel from knowing how you will react to many of our manipulations that will only sustain us for a period of time until it then begins to fade. If we continue to apply the same manipulation in expectation of a response but there is none forthcoming which we can witness, then the envisioned reaction loses its potency and moves from Thought Fuel to a criticism of us because we are being ignored. Thus if you have escaped out clutches and we send you a series of text messages, at first we envision that you will be upset to receive them and this provides us with Thought Fuel. If there is no response however, this Thought Fuel fades in its potency and we are left feeling ignored after a period of time and this then amounts to a criticism and ignites our fury. This is why No Contact is so important to you and so infuriating to us.
How then do our kind feel when No Contact has been implemented? Let us begin with the Lesser Narcissist. If you tell the Lesser Narcissist that the Formal Relationship has ended and do so in person, you have just ignited the blue touch paper. His instinctive reaction is one of huge criticism at this rejection. He will barely feel the rejection however as the ignition of his fury will be almost immediate. A massive eruption of heated fury will occur and you are in physical danger. He will not beg for you to stay; he will not plead with you. Such thoughts do not present themselves to him because the proverbial red mist has descended. Rage is coursing through him, furious and visceral rage which obliterates any rational thinking. He has lost control and he will direct this heated fury at you. He will physically prevent your departure as he locks doors, removes keys, bolts gates, closes windows and so forth. Expect the tyres on your car to be slashed or the windscreen put through as he continues to pace back and forth, cursing and hurling all manner of insults at you There is a complete loss of control. He may very well attack you, blind fury causing a flurry of punches and kicks in your direction. If there is a weapon to hand it will be used. His instinctive response is one he has not control over and it is done to achieve one thing and one thing alone; to cause you pain. He has no time to make your frustrated or angry. He cannot wait (although he does not know this) for the tears to flow (although they will). He need fuel because this massive rage that has been caused through the horrendous wound you have generated from you telling him it is over and you are leaving is draining him and draining him fast. The huge wound you have created needs to be healed and the ignited fury is using his fuel up and doing so quickly. He needs an emotional reaction from you. It must be straight away. Thus he lashes out at your verbally and physically to generate a pained response by you, accompanied by fear and then upset. This will give him the instant hit of fuel. This will begin to repair the wound. He will not allow you to get away from him for two reasons. The first is that subconsciously he needs you there to provide the fuel which he needs. Secondly, allowing you to go would more or less finish him, since it would be a further criticism. This departure criticism wounds on two fronts. First, the very fact you are going (having said that you were) opens up another criticism by telling him he is not good enough. Secondly, the fact he has not been able to stop you, destroys his sense of power and control. The first criticism of telling him it is over if allowed to combined with the double-edged criticism of departure will bring him to the brink of collapse. Thus his instinctive reaction is both to stop your departure and to draw fuel from you. If he injures you, this will most likely prevent your departure. He will keep attacking you until the rage subsides. This will happen when the wound has been healed by the fuel you provide.
If you cannot escape but (somehow) provide no fuel when assaulted (physically and verbally) your criticism of telling him, you will go will continue to wound him. He has no choice but to keep attacking you in order to provoke a reaction. It is a knee jerk response and extremely unlikely as it is, if you failed to provide fuel, this continued assault would most likely result in you being killed. Of course nearly everybody subjected to this would respond in pain and fear, thus the fuel is provided. Significant (and potentially life threatening) harm will already have happened. Once the rage subsides, you will be left in a crumpled heap, possibly unconscious as finally the rage leaves him.
Telling a Lesser Narcissist that the Formal Relationship is over and doing so face to face is an extremely dangerous step.
What of the situation whereby you leave a letter, send a message or just do nothing and allow him to work out that it is over? Once realisation has dawned on him that you have departed, the fury is ignited once again. There is the first criticism and he is severely wounded. The second criticism has not yet happened however. That double-edged criticism has not occurred. This is because although you have left he was not given the chance at the point of knowing it was over to try to stop you. Thus, his fury is ignited but he is not overwhelmed (yet) by the wound. With fury ignited, the Lesser will fly into a rage and lash out at those around him in an immediate knee jerk response to draw fuel in order to address the wound. Straight away his only thought is to find you. If he does and is able to face you face to face, then scenario will pan out as above. He will smash things up in order to reach you, break down doors, assault people to get past them and once he has you face to face you will be ordered to return home. If you do not, you will be forcibly taken back, assaulted in the process. It is akin to a caveman dragging his wife back to the cave.
If you manage to resist his attempts to drag you back, either because he cannot find you or if he can find you he cannot reach you, the failure to achieve his aim will wound him further. Anybody who is in his path – friends, family, strangers, the police – will feel the full force of his raging fury. This will continue in a bid to draw fuel from them. If fuel is provided it will not completely heal the wound (in the way fuel form you would) but rather it will provide him with enough to cause the rage to subside. He will then withdraw to lick his wounds and seek out alternative fuel. He may return, but not straight away. His follow-up hoovers will depend on entering the spheres of influence. His immediate need will be to recover from this criticism and find a new primary source whilst relying on fuel from secondary and tertiary sources.
If you resist his attempts to drag you back and he is unable to draw fuel in the immediacy from those around him – for example he is arrested and slung in his cell, or people stay out of his way- thus he is denied fuel, he will be teetering on the edge of oblivion. The rage will be extinguished as there is nothing left to power it anymore. He will feel weak and a sense of his world coming to an end. He will withdraw and enter a depressed state, hiding away from the cruel and tormenting world. He will stay in this state until such time as someone provides him with the first drops of fuel to pull him from this depressed and weakened state. Like water hitting a thirsting plant, he will respond to this fuel and then have sufficient energy to seek out more and then more, continuing his recovery until he is functioning in his usual way. At this point, he will need a new primary source (if one has not already presented itself to him) and he will apply himself to securing this (which may include hoovering you if circumstances allow). If you are not hoovered, he will seduce a different new primary source and then be occupied with that primary source. You will largely be left alone unless you enter the inner spheres of influence which will unleash a hoover.
The reaction of the Lesser Narcissist to No Contact is one of blinding, blazing fury. He lashes out left, right and centre in the immediate and pressing need for fuel. If he obtains fuel from you and secures stopping you from leaving, the rage will abate. If he cannot stop you but secures fuel, he will eventually withdraw, rage unable to be powered, but with sufficient fuel to still function and seek out a new primary source. If that fuel is denied to him he will ultimately shut down until such time as fuel is provided to awaken him again.
The Lesser’s immediate response is dangerous, violent but entirely predictable.
I love to copy. I have to copy. It is all I have known for as long as I can remember. It is my natural setting to mimic those around me. I have to fit in, I have to belong and the most effective way for me to achieve this is to replicate everything that I come into contact with. If I interact with an esteemed academic I will listen to his or her achievements and then pass those off as my own as I peel away their glittering accolades and apply them to myself. Should I spend time with an exceptional sporting individual then their record-breaking endeavours will be purloined for my benefit and sported as my own in furtherance of my own belief in my exceptional ability. Author? Yes I have written books too. Model? Yes I do some modelling from time to time. Chef? You should try my signature dish, it is heavenly. Everyone I have dealings with presents me with an opportunity to copy an element of their personality. character or personae so that I may then present it as my own and in so doing I shine brighter and become an even more attractive prospect to those whose lives I effortlessly infiltrate.
This skill at mimicry enables me to ghost in and out of people’s lives. I know the social norms which are applicable and through careful examination and application I am able to pass as one just like you. I am a facsimile of a decent, personable and engaging individual and this allows me access to my targets without raising any alarms. My veneer of respectability has been fashioned from all those that I engage with, gathering patches, fragments, shards and pieces until they are hewn together and I drape it about me allowing me to come and go as I please.
It is however with you that I exhibit the astonishing mimicry of which I am a master. Once I have selected you as my target I have learned much about you already. With what will eventually be recognised as alarming ease, I replicate a fondness for all those things which you like and a distaste for all those things that you dislike. Think back and you will readily recall how I love horse-riding just as you did, that I enjoyed swimming in open water just like you and my passion for the works of Geoffrey Chaucer matched yours. Those interests which were close to you became interests that were close to me. Your appreciation of an excellent bottle of Chateau Margaux was matched by my ability to remember the applicable tasting notes and recite them to you as if it was my own appreciation. I would mimic the way you sat, copying your body language because I know, from extensive practice that this paves the way to bonding with you. I would mimic your speech patterns to form a sub-conscious link between us. I liked blue because you liked blue. I found listening to soul music an offence to my ears but I maintained a false enjoyment of it since you liked it so much. I actually enjoy choosing from the Crustacea bar but your dislike of seafood meant that I too turned lobster and oysters away. How often did you remark aloud, to me or to your friends,
“We have so much in common.”
“We like so many of the same things it is wonderful.”
“We share so many interests, I love it.”
“We are so well matched. On every level. We really are soulmates.”
Of course we are. I made it so because I wanted to be everything you wanted. I took your long list of likes and dislikes, your catalogue of loves and hates and your grimoire of hopes and fears and I copied each and every page. I am a walking photocopier and I copied everything you wanted in order to ensure that my seduction of you was successful, encompassing and absolute.
Yet, my astonishing powers of mimicry did not end there. Goodness me no, there was more yet to come. In a particularly unpleasant twist to this malevolent skill of mine I would mimic your responses to my devaluation of you but this time it would not be a complete facsimile, I would make a slight change to my copying so that you would be undermined even further.
When you stood there crying with frustration and I drank deep of the delicious fuel you provided me, I would raise my hands to my eyes and draw pretend tears on my cheeks and make a sobbing noise to humiliate you further. Here I was letting you know that I copied everything that went before yet now I copy again but not with the perfection I once exhibited. I allow the sting of sarcasm and the malicious mockery to infiltrate my copying of your behaviour so that your hurt and bewilderment was increased. You would shout at me and I would shout back using the exact words before standing and laughing at you as you burned with frustration, unable to find any response. You might stamp your feet in exasperation and I would do the same but with a leer of disdain writ large across my face.
There were times when you would scream. A terrified scream as my vicious manipulations would take their toll and as you tried to curl into a ball and hope you might just disappear and escape this nightmare, I would lean in close to you and mimic your scream into your ear, creating this fabricated falsetto of distress in order to further your own. Every reaction to my devaluation of you had the potential to be met by a mimicked reply from me in order to further your misery and demonstrate I did not treat your responses with any sincerity or concern.
I am the master of mimicry, the king of copying and the duke of duplication. I am a walking and talking photocopier machine. I put the rank in Rank Xerox.
I am Chloe. I am 18 years old and I had an affair with my teacher, Mr Stevens or Phil as I came to call him.
I am not some silly girl, although they have repeatedly tried to tell me that I am. Believe me, I have felt the weight of my opponents as they tried to convince me, no doubt orchestrated by Phil, that I dreamt the whole thing up. Still, it is to be expected isn’t it, that they, the teachers, will close ranks and look out for one another. That is what they do isn’t it? I have lost friends because of this, but I realise they are just jealous and they fancied Phil just like me, only I got to have him. I don’t blame them for fancying him, he is good looking and funny and he has that easy air about him that makes him so likeable, but what they don’t realise that it is all an act. Phil the Flirt, Phil the Mate but when it suits him he remains Phil the Teacher, set apart and to stay apart.
He started it of course. I won’t deny that I liked him from the beginning. Everybody does. He is a popular teacher and being good-looking as well is never going to cause him a problem in the popularity stakes, but you see, he knows all of this, he plays on all of this and boy does he use it. He uses it to reel you in and then, and here is the clever part, he uses it as his defence. “I cannot help it if they take advantage of my popularity,” he protests as he maintains his innocence. He is not innocent. And he took my innocence.
He started it. I recognised the way he looked at me. He always looked for me in class before anybody else, as if ensuring that I was there in my usual seat and then giving me ‘that smile’. Oh, he smiles at everyone I was told. He does not smile for them the way he does, or rather did, for me. I am not stupid. I may be young but I saw how he would stare at me, how I could feel his gaze on me, how I could tell from the corner of my eye that he was stood besides me and was looking down my blouse. Who wouldn’t? I am attractive, I have my fair share of boys chasing after me and Mr Stevens is a man, he is flesh and blood, so he is bound to look isn’t he? He wasn’t meant to touch though but he did. Oh he touched me, in so many ways and he knew what he was doing.
I had heard that others had become besotted with him before. Rumours of some girl a few years ago who had to be persuaded to move to another school because she fell in love with him and would not leave him alone. I tried to find her actually but got nowhere. Some say he got her pregnant and she had to have an abortion, her parents hushing it all up as they did not want the scandal. Some say it is all made up. They have said the same to me.
I know what I saw. The cheeky winks just for me, the slightly longer smile than usual aimed at me. The way he usually asked me first when I put my hand up to answer a question. He was besotted with me first. I tried to tell them this but they dismissed what I said. Told me I was reading too much into him just being friendly, that I was trying to see things which were not there because I was desperate for his approval.
He was always encouraging, praising me for my work. I always enjoyed history but it became even better when he was allocated as my teacher. I worked hard because I wanted good results and I wanted him to be pleased with my work. I got high marks from the beginning and I now realise this was his way of reeling me in, making me feel special, marking me out for special treatment. He advocated on my behalf that I should be a candidate for Oxbridge (prestige British universities) and that meant extra tuition ; with him of course. Now, I am good enough to get in to Oxford or Cambridge (I chose Oxford) but he clearly saw this as his opportunity to isolate me from the other students and cleverly, from witnesses. After all, plenty of people across the various subjects have these Oxbridge tutorials after college hours, but he used his to teach me about more than the Tudor dynasty and the English Civil War.
Once he had me in those special tuition one-on-ones, then it was inevitable where it would end up. I was not complaining. I wanted his attention, absolutely, although of course he should have known better. He was the one in a position of trust, a man in a position of authority and I was just the pupil. Yes, I wanted him, but I didn’t realise that he was the one who had engineered for me to feel that way. That is what these predators do. They make it seem like your doing, but he hypnotised me and made me fall under his spell.
He was always so assured, doing just enough to maintain an element of doubt should he have misjudged the situation, just enough to be able to protest it was an innocent gesture. The hand on the shoulder, the hug of congratulations, the slightly-too-long touching of fingers when passing a book or an essay to one another. Oh, he was good, he knew what he was doing, steadily reeling me in and making me the centre of the universe. He chose me from the very beginning and little by little he reeled me in. He used his influence to bring me to heel and have me on my knees (how he relished seeing me on my knees) and I lapped up his attention and more besides.
Soon the secret trysts began. Arrangements made in his office with that Stuart family tree covering the door window so nobody could see what went on in his office. So much for transparent government, he still subscribed to the idea of an absolute monarchy. He never used his ‘phone, clever old Phil. He made it seem romantic, the whispered instructions of where to meet and when, always outdoors, never in places where we would be seen. No traces left, no observers, no evidence. He was a master at this game and I was clearly naive, but I am not a silly little girl.
And then he dropped me. No explanation. He became cold. Civil yet cold. I tried to get my friends to see how he treated me differently but they told me that I was imagining it. My grades remained excellent but the Phil that held me and read to me from historical texts and delighted me with his knowledge was gone. The Oxbridge tutelage came to a conclusion as the entrance examinations loomed ; he had no reason to be alone with me and even though I sought an audience with him, this absolute monarch would not grant me admittance.
So I spoke out. Why shouldn’t I? He told me he loved me and I loved him too. Yet once he had my innocence (or rather once he had it two score) he considered me conquered and of no great interest to him anymore. Nobody treats me like this. I will bring him down. He is not going to get away with it. Oh, I know they think I have made this all up, some kind of revenge for not getting my way, but they have underestimated me. I am not going to be denied and I will make the all see, even my parents who for some inexplicable reason have sided with him. I shouldn’t be surprised though, the have always hated me for some reasons, they are frauds to think they can call themselves mother and father. No, I know this is how his kind behave. They turn everyone against you, cut you off and paint you as the trouble maker. That is not me. I am the victim.
I am Mr Stevens. I am 30 years old and a teacher of history. I still am, although I am currently suspended as a consequence of the ridiculous allegations of a fantasist. It is an outrage that someone’s made-up fantasy has the potential to ruin a man’s career.
I am no fool. I have taught for nearly a decade and I know the tricks pupils get up to. I have seen them all. I have always been a teacher who adopts the ‘carrot’ approach. You always get further with honey rather than vinegar. Oh, I know there are one or two sticks in the mud in the staff room who regard my popularity with sniffed disdain, but that is just jealousy on their part. My results speak for themselves. Plenty of students choose to study history and between Miss Kelshaw and I, we make a formidable team. Thankfully Miss Kelshaw has supported me in this unpleasant matter although I always knew she would do so. Sensible lady.
You do walk a tight rope at times when you are friendly, yet firm, with the students. I am not their friend but I do not have to be their enemy either. I love history and my natural enthusiasm for the topic is something I try to install in my charges too. If you love something, you always do better don’t you? It does not feel like a bind or a chore. By ensuring those who choose to study history with me really love it and want to live and breathe it, I weed out the ones where it is not for them nice and early and they move to a different subject in the first two weeks. Plus doing that ensures that I am only going to get those who are going to get the best grades, so it is a win-win all around. I want to make my mark on this college. I will be the principal one day, although at present it appears that moral principles are ones which are trying to attract my attention to a greater degree.
Chloe Fowler is a good student. She will do well. Polite if something of an attention-seeker. Always first to stick her hand in the air an one to air an opinion on absolutely anything and everything. Nothing really wrong with that I suppose, at least she has learned the mantra of make a point and then ensure you have something to back it up when she advanced her arguments. I taught her just as I taught everybody else ; to the best of my ability.
Unfortunately for me, she mis-read my concern for her education as meaning something else. What can I do about that? I am not going to sit behind a screen and isolate myself from my students am I? That is not how I operate. I am not a ‘no smiles before Christmas’ kind of guy. Not at all. History needs to be alive, accessible and most of all enjoyable. It is like anything in this life – if you enjoy it, make it yours and you will succeed. I want all my students to succeed.
Yes, I selected Chloe Fowler for Oxbridge tutelage. That was the right selection and I still say it is, despite her ridiculous allegations. She has her keen mind, too keen as it happens. I have read what she has accused me of, or rather the police office read it to me and it is all nonsense, a made-up fairy tale. I see she has been clever though, she has ensured that she has accused me when there was nobody else available to witness our interactions. It is always the case that those chosen for Oxbridge tuition see their tutors in their offices. That has always been the case and I am pleased that my fellow teachers and the principal have confirmed that to be the case. I knew they would back me on this. It is an occupational hazard of ours, infatuated students who start to think they are the apple of your eye. Usually it is nothing more than a harmless term-long crush and they grow out of it, but not this girl. She has something seriously wrong with her. Has to have to come out with the lies she has spouted. Suggesting we had sex beneath ‘the tree that Charles the Second hid in’. I know that to be a lie ; that tree was destroyed hundreds of years ago. Everything she has spouted is just the slops of the mind of a fantasist and she is dangerous. Nobody is going to believe her. I know the police have to go through the motions but it will be soon kicked in to touch. She has done this because I rejected her. I didn’t reject her outright, after all there was nothing to reject, we had no romantic relationship, there was no flirtation, nothing. It is clear, however, she thought otherwise and in that warped mind of hers, she has felt rejected in some way and this is the result. An expensive and unnecessary investigation, plus the interference to the other students, no wonder so many have turned against her.
I know she liked me. I am a likeable person but I maintained a proper teacher-student relationship and she has seen fit to dream up something else. What can you do? Put cameras everywhere I suppose but then who wants that, surely there has to be some element of trust between us? Am I annoyed? Of course I am. I haven’t done anything wrong and along comes this girl and she spouts all manner of idiocy and she is treated seriously. I mean, anybody can see this is a tissue of lies. This had better not affect my promotion prospects or I will be taking legal action too. Thankfully the local paper have not reported anything about it so far, that conversation I had with the deputy editor seems to have worked, so far so good on that front. He is a good friend and does not want to see the reputation of a hard-working and successful teacher sullied. What annoys me most is how easy it is for someone like her to make these things up and next thing it is suspension and investigation. They tell me that it is a neutral act but I know there will be those trotting out the old ‘no smoke without fire’ rubbish.
I realise that when you are decent-looking chap like me and because you are friendly and get to share a joke with the students, some might blur the boundaries but it is one thing for them to be blurred and another for them to be crossed. Am I to be punished just for being popular, because that is what she is trying to do?
I am not going to change my style though. I am a hands-on teacher and that always gets results and one besotted fantasists is not going to make Phil Stevens change how he teaches. No way.
It is ridiculous. As if I would be interested in some 16 year old (which is how she says she was when this started) when I have a gorgeous wife at home. That in itself should tell those looking into this that this is a witch hunt by a disturbed adolescent who should be studying for her exams and getting help with whatever problem she has, rather than trying to ruin the life of an honest and decent man. I am the victim in all of this.
Who is the class room narcissist?
You fed off me and I am sick of it. You attached yourself to me drawn by my magnetism, but I never asked you to. You just decided that you wanted to be with me, you need me, truth be told and because I am magnanimous I allowed you to attach to me but as of late your taking and leeching has begun to annoy me. You cannot deny this is what you are. The evidence speaks for itself. You saw my charm, my attractiveness, my easy manner with people and how they are drawn to me and like some opportunist you decided that you wanted some of that. You realised that you could benefit massively by attaching yourself to me. You could avail yourself of my impeccable reputation, my scintillating presence and my esteemed connections. I do not blame you for wanting to be associated with me, who would not? Who would not want such a slice of the action as me? The opportunity to move in circles that you had never experienced before. The chance to be somebody. The time to clamber upwards from the tedious life you led and the doldrums in which you festered. I suppose I ought to admire your desire to improve yourself and better yourself by seeing what I am and what I do and wanting to be a part of that world. You certainly did become part of that world as well. You enjoyed my extraordinary largesse as you accepted my gifts, my invitations and my cold hard cash. You were delighted to be on my arm as we went to so many special places. You were granted access all areas. You consumed the love I poured in your direction, drinking deep of my passion, my affection and my dedication. I helped you, I listened, I advised. I called you often as you wanted me to. I made sure you felt safe and secure with my frequent messages and attention to your well-being. I allowed your friends and family to become part of my entourage, they certainly had no qualms about getting on the gravy train did they? You dominated my attention, engulfed me with your need to keep taking from me. Even when matters became difficult you did not stop with your neediness. You wanted reassurance still, to be told that I loved you, to be taken to those special places once again. You tried to stop me doing what I wanted to do, what I needed to do. You wanted to prevent me spending time with my friends and yes before you say anything they were always only ever my friends. Honest. You saw me as an easy target. I see that now and you kept taking, taking and taking. Is it little wonder that my irritation became annoyance? That my annoyance became fury? You just would not stop taking from me and in the end I had to stop this. I had to find someone who would give rather than take and that meant I had to be rid of you. That is why I chose someone else to escape your leeching and draining behaviour. That is why I cast you aside. You are a parasite.
You fed off me and I am sick with it. You attached yourself to me drawn by my goodness, but I never asked you to. You just decided that you wanted to be with me, you need me, truth be told and because I am the kind and caring person that I pride myself on being, I allowed you to attach to me but as of late your taking and leeching has begun to destroy me. You cannot deny this is what you are. The evidence speaks for itself. You saw my compassion, my attractiveness, my empathic manner with people and how they respond to such kindness and love and like some opportunist you decided that you wanted all of that for yourself. You realised that you could benefit massively by attaching yourself to me. You could avail yourself of my gushing compassion, my reflective presence as my emotional nature. I do not blame you for wanting to be with me, who would not when they are a creature like you? Who would not want such to erode me slice by slice? The opportunity to move yet again in circles that you had experienced before. The chance to be make yourself feel like somebody for once. The time to clamber upwards from the empty life you lead and the chasm which threatens to engulf you. I suppose I ought to admire your desire to improve yourself and better yourself by seeing what I am and what I do and wanting to make me part of you by swallowing me up. You certainly did make me become part of you as I struggle to remember most days who I am and what I was before I met you. You enjoyed my extraordinary love as you accepted my attentiveness, my invitation into my heart and my warm, loving nature. You were delighted to be on my arm as we went to so many special places. You were granted access all areas to who I was and you saw no reason to ever respect my identity. You consumed the love I poured in your direction, drinking deep of my passion, my affection and my dedication. I helped you, I listened, I advised and even when you began to abuse me, I never wavered from that. I called you often as you wanted me to. I made sure you felt safe and secure with my frequent messages and attention to your well-being. I allowed my friends and family to become part of your facade, they certainly had no qualms about forgetting me following your smear campaigns did they? You dominated my attention, engulfed me with your need to keep taking from me. Even when matters became difficult you did not stop with your neediness. You wanted reassurance still, to be told that I loved you, to be taken to those special places in side my soul once again. You tried to stop me doing what I wanted to do, what I needed to do. You wanted to prevent me spending time with my friends and yes before you say anything they were my friends until you banished them. Honest. You saw me as an easy target. I see that now and you kept taking, taking and taking. Is it little wonder that my confusion became despair? That my despair became desperation? You just would not stop taking from me and in the end I need to find a way to stop this, but I can’t seem to. You won’t stop. I have to find someone who will give rather than take and that means I need to be rid of you. I know this has to happen but I feel I cannot escape you, you have drained and leeched from me to such an extent that I am barely able to think and function. That is why I need to cast you aside but how can I when you will not let me go and you will not stop causing me to love you. You are a parasite.
Who is the parasite. You, me or both of us?
The parasite is the one who benefits at the expense of the other.
Who is the parasite?
My kind savage your heart. We pollute your mind. We ravage your soul. One of the all-pervasive elements of your entanglement with us is just how unbelievable it all is. This operates in two ways. You find it unbelievable at the time and you find it unbelievable afterwards, although often in a different way. This creates confusion, bewilderment, emotional overload and paralysis which are as you are now aware, are key components of exerting control over you. This unbelievable behaviour is found at every stage of your entanglement.
It is unbelievable just how amazing our love for you is when you are being love-bombed, it is unbelievable but you will not reject it because it feels so wonderful, so uplifting and so joyous. It is then unbelievable later that someone who loved you in such a way could suddenly stop doing so. Even later, you still find it unbelievable that it was fake. Surely we did love you? Surely we had those feelings for you? It is unbelievable that we could not have done. Do you see how this lack of believability can twist and turn, morphing into a new angle, yet remaining in place to confuse and puzzle you?
It is unbelievable that somebody can turn to quickly from being loving to being awful. It is unbelievable that a person can behave in such a way towards somebody who they say that they love. It is unbelievable how long you put up with this behaviour for. It is unbelievable that this behaviour could last for as long as it did. It is unbelievable that this person cannot understand what they are doing and see what they are doing is wrong. It is unbelievable that they cannot be helped.
It is unbelievable that someone can just vanish like that. It is unbelievable that someone can move on to someone else in the blink of an eye. It is unbelievable that the new target cannot see what is really happening. It is unbelievable that the new victim won’t accept what you tell them about us. It is unbelievable how we ignore you, refuse to speak to you and treat you like we never knew you after everything that has been said and done. It is unbelievable that you have been treated like this after everything that you did. It is unbelievable that he is saying so many lies and hurtful things to other people about you.
- The Post Discard Hoover
It is unbelievable that someone can just waltz back into your life like nothing has happened and carry on as normal. It is unbelievable how much you want that person to contact you even though you have suffered terribly. It is unbelievable just how much you miss this person. It is unbelievable how he has said all those horrible things to other people and then brushes it to one side.
It is unbelievable that you want this person so much. It is unbelievable that you cannot stop thinking about us.
So many unbelievable matters and what is the cumulative effect of all this? You are bewildered, unable to comprehend what has happened, unable to make sense of it all and you are left a whirlpool of emotions. You are dizzy, disorientated and unable to pick a path to stick to in order to reach safety. You can be picked off again with ease by our kind.
To add to the sheer unbelievable nature of what you have endured is the fact that so few people can actually understand what has happened either. They may have been brainwashed by us, they may just not want to get involved or they just cannot understand how somebody can behave like that and think you are either exaggerating or they are so stunned they cannot offer you any practical assistance. The power of this lack of believability and the effect of disbelief are substantial and they act as double hammer blows against your recovery.
How do you tackle the sheer scale of disbelief from both you and those around you?
- Understand what you have been entangled with. Really understand.
- Understand that our kind operate in a different reality to you.
- Avoid over analysis of our motives. Until you grasp points one and two, such analysis is futile and detrimental.
- Do you really need so many people to believe you? Are you not propounding the pain by repeatedly explaining it to people who are unwilling or unable to help? Don’t approach this in a scattergun manner.
- Don’t seek answers from us. You won’t get them. Ever.
- Do not expect everyone to understand. They have not experienced it.
- Identify promptly those who can be relied on and ensure they understand. Conserve your energy for these true supporters and do not waste it on lost causes.
- Read, read and read so you understand.
- Build your vessel of logic and understanding. You need it to get across the emotional sea which this disbelief is keeping you in.
- Use independent evidence, not just your say so, to support your position and break down disbelief.
- Accept some people will always be on our side. Don’t waste time trying to persuade them. You are not going to convince them.
- Don’t waste time trying to tell the world at large about how awful we are. You may want everyone to know but this is a futile exercise. We have already smeared you and you are just paying into our hands.
- Don’t bother attacking our façade unless you have the energy and credible independent exercise. You will use up valuable energy trying to tackle a wall that believes us and not you.
- Many people experience our kind but few people understand that they have done so. It is hard trying to persuade people that they have encountered a narcissist. We make it that way.
- Ultimately, it is you who matters most and has to shake the disbelief ahead of everybody else. Concentrate on that.