narcissism Archives - Comfortable Hell

Indifference Is Kryptonite

Sarah Saxby — Sat, 29 Oct 2022 10:00:08 +0000

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That’s why I stayed so long. You were an enemy and my soul knew it. I wanted to keep you near to me because I was more afraid of what you would do from a distance.

Your insecurities and insatiable need to self-protect compelled you to hover, stalk, steal, and demand, but it was I who was forced to keep you as close as I possibly could for reasons only known to me.

You see, I was way more afraid of the unknown than the known. At least the stuff that was known felt familiar and my reactions to it took little energy, they were robotic. If you could hover, stalk, steal, and make demands while we were “in love,” what would that look like if I abandoned you?

What kind of anger and revenge would awaken in the person who is, unbeknownst to you, emotionally numb? Where will you get the supply of energy that has been literally sustaining your life for years? You, the emotional vampire that’s 100% dependent on my lifeblood.

I understand that, although most likely very stressful and difficult to sustain, you enjoyed having the upper hand over me. But, how much power did I have as your lifeblood, your energy source? I had no idea.

Despite your grandiosity, deep down you hate and fear who you really are. Unfortunately, you are unable to generate your own energy or power. You are lifeless without being a virus to a host.

You know how abnormal you are, that’s why you never feel like you’re a part of anything. You always feel left out, never belonging. Although you pretend to be a part of society, you never will be because you are unaware that any of these issues exist inside of you. Your inability to see the deep-rooted issue is the biggest hoax your ego will ever play on you.

No longer my circus. Although I have taken these last few months to write down my past experiences with abuse, it has very much come from a victim’s standpoint. That’s not me, but I had to do it because I am human.

My whole purpose in airing my dirty laundry is to, God willing, let others know that it happens to the best of us. Shit REALLY sucks, but then you find your strength, your voice, your tribe, and you powerhouse the shit out of your life.

Now, I do know that even hatred gives you energy. It’s like confirmation of your power to still control me from a distance and bring me down to your level of misery.

From here on out, rather than hatred or anger, I choose indifference. You know why? Because indifference has no power, no reaction, no ability to ruin days, and thus, provides to you no lifeblood.

Thank you for being the catalyst from which I will thrive and for opening the door for the next lucky soul who will love me with love, rather than fear and logic.

Just as you discarded me when I was tired or wasn’t feeling well, I simply discard you with indifference. It’s a narcissist’s kryptonite.

Sarah Saxby

Sarah Saxby is a Holistic Nutrition Consultant, Transformation Coach, and blogger that uses Kabbalistic Astrology, Human Design, and intuitive guidance to lead her clients to finally live with clarity, fulfillment, and internal happiness. You can also find her at Strategies for Happiness where you can schedule an Astrological Alignment Reading or a free, 15-minute Discovery Call to discuss Nutrition and/or Transformational Coaching sessions.

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Sometimes Support and Kindness Show Up When You Least Expect It

Sarah Saxby — Wed, 19 Oct 2022 10:00:25 +0000

I’m not entirely sure why I decided to alienate myself from all of my friends during my relationship with Robert Stevens, but I sure did.

He didn’t think it was appropriate to share the details of our relationship, particularly the sex part, with my friends. He would always get angry when I would challenge him with something like “why don’t you ask your male friends if they get laid 4 times a week?”

He would tell me that I should not compare our relationship with anyone else’s because we are different, he has different needs. But he would also say that he’s sure that they did, yes. This was really a very small piece of the puzzle when it came to me giving up my friendships, but it’s significant.

It was all part of the slow and methodical process of me, essentially losing everything that is me. Talking to friends became too difficult, it caused problems. And besides, something inside of me knew that if I shared any of the things I was going through, they would have held me accountable, and surely, they would have followed up with me DAILY until I got the hell out of that situation (damn those good friends!).

I didn’t tell my friends because I was too embarrassed to admit that I, of all people, was living my biggest lie, to date. Not only was I too afraid to rock the boat in that environment, I sure as shit wasn’t ready to make any drastic moves.

But you know, I totally could have told my friends what was happening. No judgment and they would have helped. Basically, because they are “those” friends. You know, the ones that would grab a shovel at 3 am with zero need for an explanation?

I would do anything to get back the time that I lost with them over the years. I sacrificed those amazing souls for the “safety” of my familiar ego. Fortunately for me, they have shown back up in my life again in so many ways and the words “blessed” and “grateful” pale in comparison to how I really feel and I’m not sure I could ever relay to them how important and special they all are.

You all know who you are and I love you, tribe.

However, I didn’t sit down to write this blog about my amazing friends, but actually to acknowledge where love showed up when I wasn’t expecting it.

Now when you’re dating a narcissist, if your stock goes up, then theirs goes down. What I mean is that you can better yourself ONLY if it in some way benefits them. If you advance, they feel inferior. It’s like there’s not enough abundance to go around.

Any sort of self-improvement is frowned upon and there may even be some manipulation to get that improvement to stop. Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes it’s like a snake, but it exists. For me, I was in a place where I just gave up. The fight was too hard – whether it was the money I didn’t seem to have, the places I wasn’t “allowed” to go to (like to the bank by myself), the incessant hovering, or even the hacking into my social media.

I mean, shit, if I wanted to buy moisturizer for my damn face, I had to use my Health Savings Account. (And yes, I am dead serious about that). So, rather than care about myself, I just gave up. But I hated it. I missed the old me who cared about how I looked and how I felt… so I decided to start running – like with my legs. ME, running! I was the one with the 0.0 bumper sticker and proud of it!

Now, as you can imagine, this newfound activity was met with resistance by Robert. He said to me “Why do you want to run? It’s not good for your back and you’re not built to run anyway”. Looking back, I’m not sure why I let that bother me but I’ve had many a therapist tell me that I was looking for validation from him.

The fact that he wasn’t excited for me, or at the very least, supportive of his partner taking on this new endeavor is beyond me. I allowed that comment to hurt me more deeply than it should have, but allow me to introduce to you someone that unexpectedly turned that around for me and gave me hope.

We will call him Grandpa Bernie. Grandpa Bernie was my neighbor and I would say he was probably in his 70s. He’s retired but stays quite active, he also volunteers every week at the animal shelter. He’s the sweetest person and I always felt that he could somehow sense my sadness.

Whenever I would see him, he would always ask me how I was doing, but never just once, it was always followed up with a “are you sure?” Nonetheless, one very early and cold morning I went for a run in the neighborhood and saw Bernie across the street. I could tell he was saying something to me so I took my earbuds out and asked him to repeat whatever it was.

I have to say that what he said to me made me cry, but not just cry, I mean, once I was out of his sight I sat down on the ground and cried like a baby. It was so incredibly special and the most sincere comment I’ve heard in years.

What he said to me was “I am so proud of you.” He didn’t have to tell me that. He wasn’t concerned that I was somehow becoming “better” than him. He wasn’t jealous of me. He didn’t expect anything in return. He was just… proud of me.

That was a pretty big turning point for me in many ways, you know why? Because I want AND DESERVE a partner just like that! I want someone that is going to look at me and say “that’s my girl and I am proud of her,” period.

Grandpa Bernie proved to me that authentic, sincere people do exist, and no, they’re not all in their 70s, stay positive! Bernie may never know the power of his support and kindness and how big of a part that played in my awareness and awakening – but just know that it can and will show up when you least expect it.

Sarah Saxby

comfortablehell.com

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How Did I Allow This to Happen?

Sarah Saxby — Sat, 15 Oct 2022 10:00:14 +0000

As I become more and more open about the abusive situations that I have allowed in my life, I shake my head and just cannot figure out how this all happened. I’m at a place where I feel that if I’m not coming clean with what I’ve gone through, I am STILL protecting those individuals that did this to me.

HOW is it that I made all of this abuse OK? What went on in my head during these situations that somehow, some way, I said “it’s OK to do this to me.” I had no voice to speak, so I just went along with it.

Recently, I heard from someone in my tribe who told me that she honestly feels that what I experienced in my relationship with Robert was rape. I hate that word and it makes me sick, but she was the THIRD FRIEND that actually called it that. THE THIRD!

I don’t want to believe it, my ego wants me to push it down and somehow sugarcoat what I went through, but I can’t because now I have others to hopefully help, too. I am hanging my ass out there so other people will know that what they are going through may NOT be OK and they CANNOT let anyone dumb down what they are experiencing.

Only people that have something to hide will gaslight you into thinking you’re not seeing reality as it really is.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, Robert gave me 2 options every night of my life – either have sex or hear his wrath and lectures until 3am. When I listen to the recordings that I made during the torture, it makes me so incredibly sick. HOW DID I ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN FOR ALL THOSE YEARS?? Why did I make this OK and just a part of my life?

Having sex to avoid abuse IS ALSO ABUSE and it’s also RAPE, hands down, 100%. I will NOT be told differently and you should not either. If you are enduring abuse to avoid a different type of abuse, IT’S ABUSE!

Robert would always tell me to never compare our sex life with that of others because WE ARE DIFFERENT. I bought that bullshit, can you believe that? If I would have told just ONE friend what I was going through, I’m sure they would have physically pulled me out of that house. But I stayed quiet and never shared the agony I was going through.

To my defense, I was never allowed to go out without Robert, so how would I ever tell anyone anyway? I also discovered that he was hacking into my social media for several years. I found 203 logins from his device. I believe they call that Menacing by Stalking in Ohio, but more on that later.

Somehow, I made the daily raping OK so I could keep everything “peaceful” and status quo in the environment. At least if I gave him the amount sex he wanted I could avoid being told I wasn’t good enough. It’s OK, I can take it, I have no worth. I can keep up the charade and bullshit lie that was now my life.

I also mentioned previously that Robert abused me financially. So basically, I was a hooker and he was my pimp. His “need” for sex 7 days a week, and some days more than once, was coupled with me only being “allowed” to have a joint checking account and a joint credit card. I couldn’t even walk into a bank without him.

All my money & paychecks went to the joint account while Robert had other accounts to do what he wished. Of course, he claimed full transparency with his personal accounts, but remember, this is also the guy who also claimed that someone must have climbed through my sunroof to steal my CDs from the 1990s. (Refer to previous blogs on Insulting Intelligence).

I digress. I couldn’t spend any of that money on things for myself, as Robert would tell me that I didn’t have it to spend and whatever it was that I wanted was not a budget-line item. The only way he supported me was if he somehow benefited from it, too.

I had to give up taking my kids on soccer tournament weekends because it wasn’t a budget line-item. When I told him that we needed to add it to the budget he would ask me “where are we going to get that money from?” Basically, you can’t get blood out of a turnip. We were the poorest rich people around. Well, if he wasn’t benefiting from it, anyway.

That made me so incredibly sad and depressed because that was such a fun thing to do with my kids. To this day, it hurts me so much to think that I didn’t fight for that special time with my children and somehow buried all of that so I didn’t have to think about it. I made up excuses why I couldn’t take them anymore.

So, just like everything else, I somehow had no voice and just didn’t go on these weekend getaways with my kids anymore. But now wait, if Robert was invited to go along with us, then we had the money – that would be considered a “vacation” and we had a budget line-item for that.

The very first time I actually spoke up and told Robert that I wanted to take my son to a tournament 2 hours away, he, of course, said the money wasn’t there. As I kept pushing, he said that we could use vacation money if he was also invited, BUT, the only way that we could ultimately go was if I would get my son out of the hotel room at some point so we could have sex and/or I could blow him.

Yep, those were the conditions, so I said OK. I encouraged my son to go swimming with his teammates one of the nights so I could pay my debt. I mean, I should be so grateful that Robert even allowed this trip to happen in the first place. After all, he was my pimp, my supplier of life, so I owed him mine.

I hated him so much, as I fell further and further from my true self. Hatred, anger, and rage were at the core of my being, which is the exact opposite of who I am. I only existed on the planet to fall in line with Robert’s rules and give him his narcissistic supply to keep him going, keep him pumped up.

Several times a week I would get a lecture about how I’m not satisfying him properly, so we started seeing a sex therapist, at his request. His hope was that I could learn how to desire him more during sex. He also was threatening to leave me if I wouldn’t have a threesome. He told me that he shouldn’t have to give up his desires because his partner wasn’t interested in the same things.

I began to believe I was deficient and needed to learn how to be a better partner. How was it that everyone else had this figured out and I was just so bad at it? If I could just desire sex 7 days a week too, maybe he would stop torturing me and telling me all the ways that I’m not good enough. But that wasn’t happening.

I realize now that I was terrorized, raped, and continually disrespected as a woman and a human being by the person who supposedly “loved” me, and I took it. I accepted it.

But how did I allow this to happen?

Sarah Saxby

comfortablehell.com

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What’s Mine Is Mine And What’s Yours Is Mine

Sarah Saxby — Sat, 17 Sep 2022 10:00:44 +0000

I’ve learned a lot from my relationships, I mean, I should’ve, for God’s sake, I’ve had so many. I could either look at them in a victim sort of way or I can be thankful for the experience and grow.

Now, I know some of you may have been through really horrendous situations, which makes it so incredibly difficult to look at the experience in a spiritual way, and that’s totally cool. We’re all on a different path.

Where I’m at, I’m grateful because I know I had to go through ALL of that to get to where I’m at today. So, with that said, here’s another little gem of torture that I put up with. Now when I say “I put up with,” that basically means I had no voice. I had no voice to speak of the abuse, so I allowed it, so as to not upset anyone.

Everything I’ve done since I can remember is to keep the peace. I never wanted to upset anyone – friends, family, boyfriends, husband, whatever. I NEVER spoke up, just took whatever came at me. Until this time in my life, I never really knew all the ways that one can be abused.

Our society puts such focus on physical abuse – probably because you can actually see it with your eyeballs. But when it comes to psychological, emotional, and verbal abuse, and stuff like that – it’s way harder to prove. And sadly, the abuser is usually so slick and manipulative, that the victim may not be believed anyway and is deemed the “crazy” one.

A type of abuse that I didn’t even know existed is of the “financial” variety. I’m currently reading a book called “Becoming the Narcissist’s Nightmare” by Shahid Arabi. When I read the “Financial Abuse” section, I was so elated to know that I wasn’t making this up in my head, it’s a real thing!

The section starts off by saying “Abusers think their money is theirs and your money is theirs, too.” I almost fell off my chair because that’s what I said for so long in one of my past relationships.

For the record, I have always worked outside my home, minus the short 3-year stint of being a stay-at-home mom when my kids were first born. I’ve always made money and supported myself, and my kids.

I was only married for 5 years and I do not receive child support (yep, another area where I had no voice), so not working is not an option for me. When I began my relationship with this partner, we will call Robert, I was just tired. I had been through the absolute ringer (whatever that means, but it fits) in every way possible.

I was exhausted, but I was also looking forward to sharing my life with someone again, someone to share the ups & downs. Well, I must have also been delirious because, for some reason, I also shared my finances – like 100% of them.

The merging started to happen over time and back then, it felt like the right thing to do. But looking back now, I realize that it was the lazy thing to do. It was like I just didn’t want to deal with any of it, so I just said “here, take my paychecks and handle it,” – kinda like a pimp.

I handed over everything I earned and, in return, I was allowed to live in the house and eat the food. That’s pretty much it. If I ever wanted to go out with friends, I didn’t have the money. If I wanted to take my kid on a soccer tournament weekend (without Robert), I didn’t have the money. If I wanted to take a class to better myself, I didn’t have the money.

Well, the money was there, it just wasn’t mine to use on me alone.

Now, if I invited Robert to go out, along with my friends – then we had plenty of money. If I invited him to take a class with me, the money miraculously showed up. For years, I lived like this.

I remember going to a store in the mall and spending over $1,000 on clothes for Robert, which was fine because, you know, it’s his money. But the odds of that happening for me were slim, unless, of course, I only wore the clothing whenever I’m with him.

I realize that this is just one of the many micro-managing control tactics that I was allowing him to do, but it’s a total mind-F because you doubt yourself. Make no mistake, I knew that I worked and made money, but for some reason, I minimized that fact.

I guess maybe because he made more money than me and I didn’t think I was worthy enough to have my own things, my own life. So, I just had to shut up and be grateful that I was able to live in such a beautiful home and not have to worry about finances.

The turning point was the day he said to me something about having to support me and my kids. I literally sat there like that GIF with that little girl, perplexed, with equations all around her. I’m like wait, I work! I make money, and enough money, too!

The only thing is, if you try to say that to someone like Robert, it won’t make a difference, they won’t see it. When this behavior is actually part of their personality, they don’t know any better. And that’s exactly what I was going through.

There was never going to be a time when he will look at me like I was a mutual partner. It didn’t matter what I said, how I said it, or how many times I said it. I was less of a person and had to fall in line according to his rules.

What’s mine is his – and that was never going to change.

Sarah Saxby

comfortablehell.com

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If I Was Sick, I Was Completely Useless

Sarah Saxby — Wed, 14 Sep 2022 10:00:35 +0000

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.

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.

Sarah Saxby

comfortablehell.com

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A Comfortable Hell

Sarah Saxby — Wed, 24 Aug 2022 08:00:13 +0000

There must be something comfortable about hell, if there wasn’t, we wouldn’t continue to live in it. Over the years I have learned that hell is self-inflicted, it’s a choice.

How is that even valid, you may ask? Because this universe we live in is abundant and beautiful.

The possibilities are endless for health, happiness, love, and purpose, but we continue to struggle with sadness, anxiety, and a myriad of different types of pain – physical, emotional, mental, and so on.

Choosing Hell Over Happy

I am really no different from anyone with respect to choosing hell over happy. I’ve been doing it for most of my life. The difference is that I am beginning to connect the dots, to see the roadblocks and how to bring them down.

I look back over the years and I am very proud of my accomplishments and the person that I’ve become. I mean, let’s face it, we all have a foundation from which we grew up. And, for those of you that go even deeper than that, we have past life shit to contend with, as well.

For me, I realize that my personal foundation set me up to accept and tolerate abuse. Now don’t get me wrong, I am ridiculously strong in many ways, but when it comes to relationships, in particular, I tend to turn a blind eye to lies, manipulation, double standards, and stuff like that.

How it All Started for Me

So let me tell you a little bit about how I experienced my childhood.

And by the way, I try to be very careful in the way I explain things because really, everyone in the world is describing their experience from their perspective. It’s imperative that we remember and honor that for each other.

I also would like to preface this by saying that my parents were very sweet, hard-working people. I know they loved me very much and did the best they could with the cards they too were dealt in their own childhoods. I have no hard feelings for them or my siblings and appreciate all they did for me.

We are all actors on the stage of life and choose to be in each other’s movies with the best of intentions, whether we can see that at the time or not.

Let’s just say that I am going to explain my story as if everyone in my life was there to assist in my growth. Backstage, behind the curtain, everyone is rooting for me. I’m not a victim to any of the things I’ve experienced.

I’ve complained enough, it’s time to heal.

So for me, as a child, there were ZERO boundaries within my family. I was my mom, my dad, and my siblings. Their feelings were my feelings, their pain was my pain. I had no idea where I began or ended. I certainly was not taught how to set boundaries and I know for sure that no one would have honored them if I did.

I lived in a world of double standards. It was so incredibly obvious, but that didn’t matter. What could I do about it anyway? One of the ways that the double standard reared its ugly head was that I had to adhere to rules, but my brother didn’t.

There was a sort of protective shield that my dad offered to my brother, but not to me. He had a net, but I didn’t. That net backfired for him though. The lack of net made me tough and taught me responsibility.

I worked hard as a teen and 20-something. I didn’t expect anyone to take care of me. For my brother, it was the opposite. My dad always picked up the pieces, which led him to expect that from family, including me.

My things were his things. I remember a time when I got a new bike for my birthday. My brother took it one day and destroyed it. He brought it back all banged up, it was useless and he thought it was hysterical.

What happened next? Oh, I just didn’t have a bike anymore.

You see, my mom taught me to endure and be powerless. When I came crying to her about it, all she could do was look at me and say “what can I do about it?” She knew it was futile to tell my dad, he wouldn’t hold my brother accountable.

It was hard to process as a kid, but the anger was brewing, I knew that much. I watched as my things were taken from me and ruined, no repercussions, no feelings of regret or guilt on my brother’s part. You know why? Because to him, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. This was his world.

Do you know how hard that is to live with as a child? Someone that was so numb and oblivious when hurting another person. So incredibly insensitive. I could never put to words what that was, all I could do was rage, and punch walls. I didn’t feel heard or believed or supported.

I remember telling my brother, “there is something wrong in your brain.”

That’s all I could say as a kid, that’s the only way I could describe it. I felt like he didn’t value people, like there were no feelings, and everyone was dumb. I felt that my intelligence was insulted, as I would literally listen to ridiculous lies, same as I do today.

My mom would always say “I swear he thinks we’re stupid.”

But if you’d ask my brother about that, he would tell you that my mom and I are two of the smartest people on the planet. How does that make sense?

Where I’m At With It

I’m a big believer in the idea that we recreate our childhoods within our adult relationships. Think about it, we couldn’t really understand how to overcome these unique challenges as a kid.

So, we gravitate to and wind up with people that share the qualities of our parents, good and bad. This gives us the opportunity, as grownups, to finally change, do things in a different way and thrive.

Today, as I continue to recreate my childhood within my adult relationships, I can definitely see the pattern, as well as the corresponding opportunities.

I realize now that I grew up with something I can only explain as narcissism, which is kind of buzzword-ish these days, so I apologize.

Nonetheless, it now has a name, and with it comes an antidote.

Sarah Saxby

comfortablehell.com

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