Universally, narcs ruin any day or situation that pulls the attention away from them. Narcs suck the joy out of daily life, holidays, and celebrations. Numbing out of their pain also numbs their ability to feel joy. Narcs rob you of the autonomy to enjoy the little things you liked before you met them. You slowly lose yourself and your joy in trying to navigate and survive their daily chaos. Their constant psychological and emotional abuse is so persistent, you find yourself in negotiations, giving away pieces of yourself to survive the moment. Minimizing your presence, needs, desires, and dreams become a survival mechanism. You learn not to matter. To fly under the radar. To go unnoticed. That's a way to keep the peace. I did all of it. Mostly, in the isolation and abusive atmosphere, I forgot my birthday mattered to me.
Healing is so much more work than making a wish. This week was my 41st birthday, in my world, the 41st Chelebration. I have faith that day will become as easy as it once was. While I am making progress in my healing from covert narcissist abuse, my birthday had its heavy moments as my nervous system recalled 365 days ago. With anxiety and hesitation, I drove to St. Louis for shopping and dinner with my friend. I broke down and cried in the mall parking lot even before going in. The anxiety was too much. I haven't purchased any new clothing in over a year. I used to do this for a career and somehow I had to overcome walking into a mall.
After I navigated my anxiety and talked to my sister to help me remember who I once was with a gentle reminder I'm worth it, I walked into my favorite stores. For my birthday, I bought myself clothes. I bought the clothes I wanted. I tried on anything I wanted. I bought clothes I felt confident in. I bought myself dresses. Skirts. And I bought myself shorts! I bought them while noticing the tension in my body, my jaw clenched, my hesitation, and my nervous system clearly activated. Finally, I replaced the shorts he used as a weapon against me.
Narc, you no longer get to decide on my wardrobe. You do not get to decide how I feel about the clothes I wear. I still hear you projecting your demeaning words, jealousy, and insecurities and they are no longer facts in my day. They are your abusive opinion. Most of all, you no longer get to spew your absurd narratives of how inappropriate and unacceptable I dress as it suits your need for supply. I have more confidence in myself than you've ever dreamed of having. I will rebuild it. You will not recognize me.
My 40th.
This photo is on my 40th birthday. Exactly 6 days after I pulled him from the hotel room with the cleaning lady. She still was driving the car he bought for her as we took this picture.
He was bread-crumbing and gaslighting me with "Everything is going to be okay, I love you, and I want this to work out, she just needs a few days to arrange for another car. She's a dipshit and I never wanted her, you pulled away." This photo captures narcissistic psychological abuse. I was still reeling from the hotel findings and had to make my own birthday plan if I wanted to do anything for it. He agreed to dinner. I got nothing else, not even an apology, a card, or flowers. The year before I got diamond earrings, flowers, a spa day, and dinner with friends. That was in the love-bombing stage. At the bare minimum, I knew I deserved a dinner. Far from the Croatia trip, I had promised myself at the 30th Chelebration. I had shared with him my plan for Croatia on my 39th, he promised we would go on my dream 40th trip and take his kids. I shared that with them. In reality, it was within reach. Little did I know, the narc had other plans. Intuitively, his kids dismissed it. They had seen this game played before.
Healing.
I am working through a lingering barrier that doing something good and nice for myself isn’t worth it. I can recognize that as a lie he once coerced me to believe. I am recognizing and overcoming the learned low self-esteem from narcissistic abuse. This coming from nearly 2 decades of celebrating my birthday in a big way. I really loved my birthday. Who doesn't want another trip around the sun when you love your life? Traveling and events every year, friends, family, cake, I even named my birthdays, Chelebration, because it is a celebration of self. My friends looked forward to it. It was always something fun. Not in a "look-at-me" way, but in a way where I could thank and celebrate with everyone who supported my growth, my dreams, and my life in that past year.
In a world where we hold "Celebrations of Life" upon death, how many times, beyond childhood, do we actually celebrate our life while living? Who shouldn’t be celebrated? It’s life, it’s amazing, it’s to be celebrated. The alternative to aging never really interested me, until I lived with covert narcissist abuse on which I repeatedly told him, death was the better option. It's psychotic to think we will only experience joy. The hard times are to be experienced to fully appreciate and experience the joy in the good times. I'm not talking about calculated deception, manipulative control, and abuse. That's intentional evil. No one should or deserves to experience that. The hard times I'm talking about are natural challenges. The loss of a loved one, and career transitions, or perhaps, natural disaster hardships. The by-design and repeated abuse shadowed and robbed my ability to truly experience the little things as joy. As I heal, I'm relearning to celebrate daily life.
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