Abandon those who abandon themselves.

---

It's not easy to unmask a narcissist, and narcissists ensure there's always an element of doubt that lies in their favour. Your doubt is money in the bank for them, the longer you give them the benefit of it, and 'wait' for proof, the worse things will be for you.

Of all the people in the world undeserving of the benefit of doubt, it is a narcissist, because they purposefully use that goodness in you to set you up for your own destruction. Don't let them have the benefit of the doubt. Doubt them for all your worth. Because as time passes, and they expertly deflect those questions asked to make sense of all the things that don't make sense, they are working hard to convert you to their narrative. To their lies. And to the ruination of your life.

They will do everything possible to avoid allowing you to get to the root of your unease. For the sake of 'peace' and not upsetting them, you will decide to remain silent as your instincts retreat, denied their voice. Soon you no longer trust what you see and hear. Soon it is easier to just let them define reality. Define what's true and what's not. This is the death blow.

If you have reached this point, you have lost your last solid chance to escape with your heart and soul still intact. If you have crossed this line, getting out is going to be hard because you have already become a part of their narrative. Their lies are in you, poisoning your blood and eroding your soul. For those of you facing this awful situation, I suggest my book The Lost Letters to help you find the strength to face the darkness planted within you, and give you the hope you so desperately deserve.

But for those of you still in the early stages of being targeted by a narcissist and feeling like something isn't quite right, but you can't put your finger on it, listen to that! It's your instincts, it's your body right at its cellular level warning you of danger. It's primal. It's trying to save you.

If you are ready to face the monster behind the mask, here's an extremely effective way to tear that mask off to see who you are really dealing with. Let me warn you, if they really are a narcissist, it's going to be ugly.

Make sure to have your shoes on, and your car/house keys and mobile phone in your pocket (or whatever, you get the idea). Keep close to an exit. Make sure you have somewhere to go in case you can't come back. Plan this out. Confronting a narcissist is like walking into a cage with an angry, abused tiger. You are going to get hurt. There will be battle scars. Prepare.

If you are truly being groomed by a narcissist for supply, they are going to be very angry when you expose their crap narrative in all its infantile glory. They will not be gracious. They will take out their rage and humiliation on you. Be strong. Record it if you can, so you can listen to it later when you are feeling weak and want to call them to 'fix things'. (You can't. Ever.)

Here's what to do. It's not difficult in principle, but in practice, it's terrifying. And if just thinking about it makes you break out in a sweat, it's very likely you already have your answer. But if you want to be really sure, here's how to get the mask off. Fast.

Question their narrative. Make every word count because they will interrupt you (and likely begin to go on a full frontal character assassination attack) as soon as they realise where things are going. But while you have the time, pull it apart. Be smart. And ruthless. But do it nicely. There is no need to be mean, because you are not them.

Here's an example:  "When you said no one ever helps you and you are always facing all your problems alone, how come you didn't accept the help of your uncle when you were moving house?"

If they are a covert narcissist:

a) You will get a long-winded word salad that very quickly pivots to their being the victim and you being part of the problem for not understanding why they couldn't possibly have accepted said uncle's help. You'll be blamed for upsetting them, made to feel guilty, and punishment will follow in the form of a huge sulk, closed doors, and silent treatment for as long as it takes to bring you back into line (meaning you never question their narrative again).

or if you have an overt narcissist on your hands (think Trump) ...

b) They become immediately enraged. They shout and storm around claiming that this proves everything, how no one cares about them or understands their pain. They might break things, or behave in an intimidating manner, threatening you with clenched fists and vicious words to annihilate and discredit you. They will storm out, slam the door, and not respond to your calls for a long time. You will have to apologise to get them to talk to you again so you can gain closure. Don't bother. That was your closure. And don't answer their calls when they inevitably come back to you for more supply.

Because if you get either of these two reactions. You. Are. With. A. Narcissist.

How can you be sure?

In a normal relationship, there is communication. If you bring up something that is important to you but disagrees with their narrative, yet relates to your needing to clarify what is murky (and made murky by them) and they resort to tactics of hostility, silence, accusation, and blame, you are dealing with a narcissist.

This formula will unfold each and every time you try to bring things to a place where you wish to feel heard, understood, appreciated and valued. They will never communicate. And they definitely do not value you. They don't want to. Their narrative is imperative to their survival. Anyone who questions it will feel the full effect of their wrath.

Also important to note...

If you feel afraid to question their narrative and that things will go badly for you, you are probably with a narcissist. You should never feel afraid to ask someone an honest question that is causing you discomfort in an intimate relationship.

If you lie awake at night trying to square up the inconsistencies plaguing your mind from what you are told compared to what you have experienced, you are probably with a narcissist.

If you feel tense whenever you are around them, afraid you might set them off over the slightest thing, you are probably with a narcissist.

If you have to agree with their version of how things happened (or are) to keep the peace, no matter how skewed it is from reality, you are very likely with a narcissist.

If you feel like you are exhausted every time you have been around them, as if your energy has been siphoned out of you, you are very likely with a narcissist.

If you feel like you can't trust what your senses are telling you, if you are plagued with doubt, if you feel worthless, unloved, valueless, afraid, broke and hopeless, then you are probably with a narcissist who's about to discard you...

You are not alone. I have been exactly where you are right now. At every stage. I barely escaped with my life, and needed to go into hiding in another country to protect myself. I have written this book to help other women avoid the trap narcissists lay. To aid others and to give them hope that they too can escape and begin again, stronger, better, and more powerful than ever before.

If you want to learn more about narcissists and how they target their victims, how to spot one trying to trap you, and how to escape if you've been trapped, you are in the right place.

The Lost Letters: The Dark World of Narcissistic Abuse came out February 14, 2021. And yes, the irony is intentional.

With love and compassion,

Elizabeth Anne Carter

A father's wise words in a dystopian world...

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Everyday I struggle with the negativity and bleakness in society since COVID-19 took over our lives.

To not be able to see each other, touch each other, even be near to each other is wearing. No...it's exhausting. It's hell.

A deep loneliness is ripping society apart fueled by alienation, fear, and pessimism. It hurts. A lot.

It's a dark time. And the fight is real. At times I flounder so much I feel like I have lost my compass. Lost myself.

I asked my father how to cope with this unprecedented dystopian situation and he said:

"Give service to others. Think of others more than yourself."

At first I didn't understand, wrapped up as I was in my own miseries. But then I started a little thing. I began to observe others for ways to express my appreciation or complement them.

And then I gathered up my courage and said something intended to make them feel nice, not really sure it would be ok.

Give service.

Total strangers. Shop workers. Table servers. Dog walkers. I couldn't see their smile, because of their mask, but I saw the light ignite in their eyes. The lowering of tension in their stance. The warmth awakening in them. The connection, stolen by COVID still there, longing to return.

And I felt the weight of their burdens lessen, just for a heartbeat.

Words are magical. Powerful. And unlike a hug, they can remain with the receiver, nourishing them and encouraging them long after you have forgotten what you've said.

My father is a wise man. I need to go tell him that. Right now.

❤️

From the Ashes of the Past, the Future.

---

At 2.30 am, I wake, besieged by thoughts which have at last, escaped their confinement. They swarm over me, vengeful, hungry, sick of being silenced.

I fire up my phone to bathe myself in the glow of escapism.

An hour later I feel worse, depressed by the banality of social media. Emptiness haunts me.

The thoughts roar back and surround me, a pack of starving wolves. I know I will not escape this time. I have denied this moment for far too long. They snap at my heels, until I am cornered. Nauseous with terror, I go to the only place where I know solace.

In the bleak 4am light of my screen, I sit before my keyboard with its beloved letters worn away. A whisper of something moves through me. The truth I fear edges closer. I shiver. Courage eludes me. I light a candle and begin to write.

I knew this was coming. For weeks I could feel it in my bones. When I knew the barricades I had desperately bolstered would implode under the pressure of the choice I must make.

A crack appears in the one of the walls, it spreads, rapid, across its surface, spiderwebbing its way to the other sides. Walls reinforced with my blood, flesh, and bone. It hurts. It's almost unbearable. I bite my lip until it bleeds.

My fists clenched, I endure. It's part of the journey, in the end it will all make sense, but this part is horrible. I wasn't prepared for this, no one warned me. No one said in the aftermath of leaving, far worse would come after.

Fragments of the past cling to me, hold me hostage. The dissonance between the past and present is razor sharp. New and old clash, ugly and disconnected. I close my eyes and once more I am driving in Sweden under an endless stormy sky, lightning striking in the distance.

It's gone. It's over.

No. It's not. I am still there. I can taste the ozone in the air.

Let go.

I’m not ready. I don’t know who I am without my past. I hold still. My existence beneath me stretches across an endless abyss, taut as a wire. The past behind me, the future before. I tremble, longing to fall. Yet here I am. Writing. Fighting. Holding on.

The barriers shatter under the weight of my denial and the few feeble plants left in the parched garden of my hopes, loves, and dreams die before my eyes. I am eviscerated with anguish. I am bleak, alone. Empty. I look up and the one I cannot bear to face steps through the debris of my ruined defences.

She holds her hand out to me. The one who can give me hope, who can help me live again, who can give me purpose. I knew this was coming. I dreaded it. She is the one I must become, the final stage of the journey. She who has the strength to move past the pain, the sorrow, the lies, and the hopelessness that has been my sustenance for far too long. She who has the courage to face the unknown. To trust again. She who has the perseverance to finish what I started.

No. I am not ready. I look away from her, at what's left of my dying Self, and see myself with her eyes, how fear has turned me into a persona non grata in my own life, as I have fleeted, light through the days, careful to commit to nothing, not even a car, erasing myself until I am only one step away from vanishing.

I glare at her, defensive.

Never again. Never again will I trap myself. It hurts too much to lose it all. Walk light. Live light. That’s the only way to be safe from now on.

She waits. I ignore her and think of the 20 years of my life I piled into a shipping container hidden among an identical sea of containers. A massive metal door imprisoning my history in a tomb of darkness: Moments of happiness. Of sadness. Of all the seconds and hours that made me who I am today. Letters. Books. Photographs. My life buried alive. And it was I who buried it and drove away.

And now.

I wait.

For what?

For a reason to open the door and let the sunlight in again?

I think of my three passports, and know I should feel blessed, but instead I feel as if I belong nowhere. It hurts, this feeling of rootlessness after being deeply rooted for more than a decade.

I am not ready.

Still, she waits. I want her to go away so I can return to what's familiar. To the bleak island of uncertainty that is my only certainty in a world turned upside down, of drifting from one day to the next, thinking of nothing, just existing. Losing myself to time. Letting the days slip by. Doing what I must and nothing more.

I seek courage and look back up at her. Or, me but not me…the me I want to be. Sadness shrouds her as she offers her hand once again. I sense she thinks I will refuse her.

My time to choose is almost gone. The last of my waning self begins to disintegrate. If I don't go to her now, I shall be forever caught in the past, a phantom to my future. My chance to heal thwarted by none other than myself. How long would I last disconnected from my true Self? Not long. A year, at most before I would become someone else. Someone not me. Someone who lost herself.

I sense her presence. Strong, wise, honest, good, loyal. My true Self. The one I lost when I let another define, control and almost annihilate me. She is the only one who can save me from myself.

I realise I don't want to be trapped by past trauma and fear, forever frozen at the threshold of my future.

I lift my hand to hers. She smiles and pulls me to my feet. As I rise, the one I needed—the warrior who protected me for over a year—exhausted, breathes her last and turns to dust, the remains of a chrysalis of pain.

Light fills me. For a moment I am blind. I blink and view the world with new eyes. Everything is the same yet different. The shadows fall away. The wolves lay down to sleep, content, at last, their work done. On the other side of the ruined barrier, my future beckons.

I step through the parched earth of my dead garden. My past self’s remains stir in my wake and gently cover my vanquished hopes, loves, and dreams.

A little distance away, I kneel in the verdant soil of a new garden, waiting and made ready for me. In my hands new seeds of hope, love, trust, and dreams appear. I hesitate only for a moment to admire their golden beauty, purity, and purpose.

The warmth of the rising sun touches my shoulders. A bird sings.

I plant the seeds.

And begin to write.

Author’s Note:

For the entire month of October I will be in a secret location writing my non-fiction book The Lost Letters: The Dark World of Narcissistic Abuse (working title) for women caught in the trap of narcissistic abuse.

Its purpose is to help women understand the mind of their abuser, how they work, why they do what they do and why they tend to target successful, happy, talented, empathetic women and turn them into a broken, empty shells; how to survive the lies, gaslighting, verbal abuse, control, isolation, and constantly changing victim narrative; strategies to cope while in the relationship, ways to protect themselves, and how to get out safely; what to expect in the fallout of a breakup and how to prepare an exit strategy that works, plus gentle methods to heal the mind and heart so past trauma and triggers can be mitigated and a return to a life of peace and calm can be found again.

E A Carter