Maybe we are paving the way, like putting big orange cones and caution flashing yellow lights along a road – maybe we’re doing that for the next generation of kids raised with narcs, or people who date/marry narcs. They will be searching searching, all over the interwebs, just like we did – just like we found each other. And now, because of us, they will have road maps and signs – they will be able to recognize this bullshit. SEE it sooner in their lives. For most of us, it takes till we are in our 50’s and beyond. But what if people start seeing this and LEAVING it (because there seems to be no other way – there is no cure) sooner? So their exposure is much abbreviated. And therefore the likelihood of them contracting any fleas or ticks and becoming a narc themselves is lessened.
Because sometimes it happens that way. Sometimes, being around a narc makes you act like THEM. You begin to think that up is really down – that wrong is right and wrong is MIGHT. You never grow your empathy bone. You start to believe the little narcissistic megalomaniac who is training you (not raising you). It almost happened to me. I almost tried to un-man my son. I ALMOST TRIED. There’s the difference and the difference was ALL OF YOU. Anna Valerious and Upsi and Q and Mulderfan and Tundra Woman(<--where is your blog I can't find it!!) and Charity and Jonsi and a SLEW of others who came before me. Who made me stop and realize that a 21-year old MAN doesn’t have to want to live with his mama anymore. That a 21-year old MARINE can buy a motorcycle and it has nothing to do with his mama JEEBUS I ALMOST DID IT. I almost cried and sobbed and begged him to come home and live with me. I'm ashamed. I was telling him ‘you used to want to be my best friend’ and ‘remember when you were 9??’ and OH MY CHRIST ON A CRACKER. I shudder. And I wasn’t even living with and haven't been with a narc in over 15 years. But I stopped it, and I found pride in my son for being a grown adult making grown adult decisions and making FINE DECISIONS and it was because of all of you. (He owes you. I’d collect from him and soon because MOTORCYCLE)
Imagine if someone finds us and doesn’t marry the narc to begin with?! Or finds us and leaves home at 18, instead of 30, or 40?!? That’s why I’m here. Telling my stories isn’t fun – it’s gross and disgusting to sift through all of that bullshit from 50 years ago. Nobody loves talking about the abuse we suffered as kids and teens and adults. I’m (mostly) over it. Definitely past it. But I go back to light some warning flares and – as I told Q on a comment on his entry – to leave picks and shovels and tarps. And maybe some antibacterial wipes. HEED THE WARNING. Beware the moon. Stick to the roads.