For a new post title, I’m thinking:
Well, I have discovered that I cannot write a recovery blog when I am not recovering. The cycles of grief are just the same shit over again. And I know it’s crazy.
I am doing the same shit over again and I am feeling the same shit over again and it’s been TWO YEARS since I saw the narcissist. What the fuck!
Reality is that I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing or who he’s screwing – because that’s No Contact (a good thing).
My Delusion is that I can feel it in my bones that he’s preparing to go back to Israel and it is making me fucking crazy with grief and jealousy. Why should he get to go home? He’s the one who fucked it up for both of us, and particularly for me. He is a fuck-up. And I know it won’t be any different for him the second time.
I don’t have to have contact with the narcissist to know that he is the same loser he always was. He’s just as violent as he always was. He’s just as big a big fat LIAR as he always was. He’s just as big a fraud. Just as big a coward. Just as big a venomous, hateful individual. (even if it sounds like I am venomous, too)
Narcissists do not mature with experience. Narcissists do not grow wise with each passing year. Narcissists do not mellow with age. Nope. He will be the same selfish, vicious, murderous bastard at age 75 that he was when last I saw him. In fact, if you revisit a narcissist after several years apart, it will freak you out how unchanged they are. How is it possible for individuals and the world to move forward or backwards, yet the narcissist remains untouched, unaffected, and un-improved? Metaphorically-speaking, they are more marble statue and less fleshy human.
How is it possible for individuals and the world to move forward or backwards, yet the narcissist remains untouched, unaffected, and un-improved?
I know David will fail miserably in Israel just like he did the first time – and yet I am SO MAD! Why does he get to go back and not me?
Again, I have not had any contact with the narcissist in two years. I could be hallucinating, which makes it all seem even more unhealthy and, yea, I can say it… INSANE.
Now I have a title: “Sometimes You Just Gotta Write Shit Down.”
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