After stumbling upon this site by chance and reading many of the heartbreaking stories herein, I have decided to share my own.
I grew up with only one sibling, a sister, and a severely bi-polar mother. I won’t leave my father out as he was a good one, when he was around. Being a doctor, he was often gone and thus did not see or even seem to care what was transpiring between my mother and me. My mother hated me and made it manifest every day of my childhood. Interestingly enough she adored my little sister and made it evident there would NEVER be anything I could do to deserve the love she had for her.
My mother never worked and rarely lifted a finger to do anything around the house. It was common to come home from school and find her still in her pajamas either in her bed or on the couch, crying. I tried to help her (by doing laundry, dishes, etc.) and even let her take the credit for it. But nothing was good enough to please her and it seemed to make her hate me even more.
She would often tell me she wished she had aborted me. I didn’t know what that meant until I was around the age of ten and it nearly tore my tiny heart from my chest. I spent the bulk of my young life sequestered in my room trying to will myself invisible, but even there I wasn’t safe from her violent rages. She would beat me silly, throw everything from my dresser drawers all over my room and then tell me to pick it all up. I grew to hate her as soon as I knew what hate was.
I left home when I was fourteen and lived with friends and their families, finally finding some peace and normalcy, or so I thought. I married for the first time at the age of eighteen and this was to begin my many years of marrying time and again trying to seek out the proverbial “White Knight”. I longed to be loved and wanted and I swiftly found myself in a flurry of relationships that promised anything but. The first two marriages left me beaten and broken, but no one could ever label me as a quitter and I tried again and again.
By the fourth marriage I had produced three beautiful children and my world revolved around them. I was able to give them all the love they needed, love that had been suppressed in me for what seemed like an eternity. I considered myself a survivor and endured hell with the hope of finding heaven.
Nothing I had ever been through, as bad as it was, could have prepared me for my fifth marriage though, for this time I really knew what it must be like to live with Satan himself.
I met him on the Internet and spent a few months corresponding with him before meeting in person since he lived in a neighboring state. He was everything I had been looking for and more. He was very handsome, charismatic and extremely generous, often sending gifts and cards through the mail. I had spent the previous five years out of a relationship clearing my head and deciding what I really wanted.
I thought this wonderful man was it.
He wound up moving to the state where I resided and rented a nice house for us. I quit my job because he told me he could make enough to take care of us.
A few months passed before he began to hide out in our bedroom, drinking whiskey. He ignored me and the kids and was very secretive about everything he did. I knew things had changed, but I didn’t have any money to leave him and no one I could turn to for help so, I bent over backwards trying to make him want me again.
I was successful in my attempts and he explained he was acting differently because he didn’t like the big city and wanted to move back to his home state, a place he hadn’t been in over twenty years. We moved a month later.
Everything went well for a while, but then his hiding out and drinking commenced again along with mental abuse SO severe I thought I had died and gone to hell. He never apologized for anything he said and made every conflict “my fault”.
I would break down and cry and he would tell me where his loaded 45 was so, I could “put myself out of my misery”. He would say hideous, horrible things to me and then tell me, five minutes later, he never said what I knew he said.
It got to the point where I was hiding a tape recorder in my pocket to ensure I wasn’t losing my mind. He turned everyone against me by telling them I was crazy, his family, our pastor, and my few friends. I was kept in a cage and taken out only when he wanted to do further damage to me.
I did begin to pack mine and the kid’s things at this point, but found out I was pregnant. When I told him he was furious, but ultimately said he would change for the baby’s sake. Like a fool, I believed him.
Six months into my pregnancy I moved out of our bedroom and into my son’s room as I found out he was cheating on me. Again, it was my fault and he had no remorse, acting as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.
When our baby boy was born, we still weren’t married and I felt sick that this was my first child born out of wedlock.
He almost didn’t sign the paternity papers stating: “I’m not paying child support for eighteen years”. But, he did sign them and our baby changed him. So much so he married me three months later and actually treated me with respect. I really believed things were going to be different now.
He decided he no longer wanted to be around his family and took a great job in yet another state. This is when the insults, the belittling, the hiding from all of us reached a crescendo. He would come home from work and head straight to his room and lock the door shutting even his own child out.
One evening, six months after our move, his Irish setter bit our son across the face so badly he had to be taken to the emergency room (our son was in the room watching T.V. with his father at the time). His father did not go saying he was going to get rid of the dog. He never came back nor did any of us hear from him for three weeks.
I later discovered he had moved in with another woman. I filed for divorce and custody of our son. I couldn’t afford a lawyer, but I didn’t think I needed one based on what I thought I could prove about this heinous man. He didn’t have a lawyer either.
A narcissist can manipulate anyone, anytime, anywhere; of this I am now thoroughly convinced.
He won custody of our son by lying to the judge saying he was doing extremely well financially, planned on marrying the woman he left me for and never moving again as he had recently purchased a home. I was so distraught I cried for days on end. Four months later, he moved back to his home state and, in the state we lived in, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Our little boy was just three years old and would only see his mother every three months according to the court order, since his father refused one day visitations. Mother and child were both distraught.
Our son is now six, I am married again and have moved back home. This time I truly do have my “White Knight”. We have been married two years and he is my sea of tranquility. He and I are able to relate on so many different levels and he understands what I continue to deal with concerning my son’s father, who now manipulates my son and tries to turn him against me.
My visitations are always controlled by the N and he has to one-up me in everything I do for my child. I bought him a video game for him to play on his brother’s Playstation3 this Christmas and, as soon as the N found out, he went out and bought a whole gaming system for our son and tons of games.
I am SO tired of trying to compete with this irrational little boy who will turn FIFTY this year! I am currently in the process of seeking custody of my little boy and, this time, with the help of a lawyer.
But dealing with the N has left me afraid I can’t do anything to prove what he is REALLY like. He has always gotten away with SO much!
Three weeks ago the N suffered a heart attack and, against his doctor’s orders, drove with our son here for my visitation even though I said I would drive to pick him up. I worry constantly about my son and wonder if anyone here has been through anything similar and what they did to out maneuver the narcissist and take back control.
Thanks for allowing me to share.