If I Was Sick, I Was Completely Useless

Sarah Saxby

Sarah Saxby

I'm an intuitive coach and visionary focusing on personal transformation and spiritual business coaching. I'm here to support your creative endeavors, develop holistically, and empower your highest sense of direction so you can see what you have been missing to achieve personal and collective potential.

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For anyone who has lived with a narcissist, and I mean a true, full-fledged Narcissistic Personality Disorder, you know all too well that you are 100% USELESS to them if you don’t feel well or are in some way out of commission.

It could be a headache or a cold – all things that inhibit your ability to fully cater to his or her needs. From what I have learned, this causes the abuser to suffer a “narcissistic injury” and boy, those are not pretty by any stretch, because once they feel “injured,” they rage.

Because my full-time job was keeping the environment peaceful by subsequently meeting all of my partner’s needs, I would pray that I would always be in perfect, tip-top health so that I wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of being told all the ways I fall short as a partner and human being.

You see, I had two options pretty much every day of my life. Option 1, meet his needs. Option 2, get yelled at until 3 am. When this is life, what would you choose? I mean, I guess one might say that there was ALWAYS an Option 3, but for some reason, I couldn’t dare leave the situation and face being the cause of the upset.

I was also scared shitless because I was living with a master manipulator, who, for sure, always had one foot out the door to save face, should he need to. Living under complete surveillance, I didn’t have ways to plan a getaway like he could.

an image of a woman dressed in black sleeveless top and black pants, seated on a chair with her back to the camera, represents the article "If I Was Sick, I was Completely Useless" by Comfortable Hell

Everything that was once “me” was now him – my cell phone, my bank accounts, my social media. If I ever left, it would be with the shirt on my back, and I wasn’t ready for that, so, I would typically pick Option 1.

For many years I was not allowed to say “I’m tired.” Those two words coming out of my mouth infuriated him.  At one point we were talking with a therapist and I was sharing some things about not feeling safe in my own home, not being able to let my guard down and be vulnerable – even with something so simple as “I’m tired.”

He looked right at me during that session and said in full rage “KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.” The therapist actually left the room so she could cool down from his comment (that’s how outrageous it was).

A few other things that would provoke a scolding until all hours of the night: a headache, a cold, and the mother of all sins, my period. You see, his energy supply came from sex.  If I wasn’t feeling great, there’s a chance I may not be in working order, thus he doesn’t get his fix. There were so many nights when I felt so exhausted or sick, but I had to follow through on my two options.

I could NEVER just go to bed and rest, NEVER. There was NO ONE to take care of me, NO ONE.  I could either just do it and get it over with or I had to be up all night listening to him scold me, sick or not sick, it didn’t matter.

You can also be sure, that if I just did it to get it over with, I was going to get scolded for that, too.  I would be told that the “quality” was not up to his expectations and he shouldn’t have to live such an empty life, void of passion.

Also, don’t think for a minute that I could simply just leave the room, because I tried that. He would follow me everywhere I went, making sure he was heard.

Regardless, I was in hell… and I stayed. I stayed and dreaded every night of my life. For the first time in my life, I had skyrocketing blood pressure (all 110 lbs of me) and such intense pain in my jaw, neck, and shoulders. I was like a rain barrel that would overflow with one more drop of water.

But I stayed the course, and I, yet again, endured to keep the peace. No worries, I knew that I would be greeted with a hug in the morning that would make everything all better.

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1 year ago

My stomach is in my throat reading this. I can’t describe how proud I am of you being more than vulnerable putting this out there in hopes of helping someone living the same “comfortable hell”.

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