Mental Illness Madness (Narcissistic Abuse Survivor Poem/Song)

Mental Illness Madness (Narcissistic Abuse Survivor Poem/Song)

One moment you’re nothing
The next moment you’re born
Dropped into a dark, angry, scary world
You’d much rather ignore

A mother’s paranoid toxic mental state
A father evil and psychotic with a deadly gun
One sister’s jealous dangerous hate
The other brainwashed, unaware and way too young
A life long friend’s betrayal and a trusted lover’s lie
Throw in two serial killer’s plot revenge
And there goes what could have been
My beautiful life

When everything you know to be sacred and true
Blows up in your face, pops like a balloon
It’s a rape of the soul, annihilation of trust
Destroying all reasons for living
But…go on you must

How does one come back from something like that
When dying seems easier than living in fact
And all efforts to exist fail in despair
Tell me, how does one come back from there

You gotta blame the Mental Illness Madness
You can’t begrudge the ill
What you need is forgiveness
Love, and more compassion still
And you know, climbing that mountain
Will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do
But who knows, facing that challenge
May well be, God’s perfect plan for you

Mental Illness by definition is the devil so real
A blackout of potential, depleting all one’s unique appeal
Try as you might to make sense of time n’ life lost
There is no price to make up such the cost

How much sadistic torment can one human mind survive
What’s the imploding limit before a pure heart resigns
I wonder, is real love and empathy even a true possibility
Cause In my life, that’s something I have never ever seen

The egoist opportunist will always sabotage the self
With money, hearts n’ minds n’ other things
They think will bring them accomplishments and wealth
So commonly narcissistic and self serving from the throne
They sit inside their castles barking orders and casting stones

You gotta blame the Mental Illness Madness
You can’t begrudge the ill
What you need is forgiveness
Love, and more compassion still
And you know, climbing that mountain
Will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do
But who knows, facing that challenge
May well be, God’s perfect plan for you

When everything you know to be sacred and true
Blows up in your face, pops like a balloon
It’s a rape of the soul, annihilation of trust
Sure takes the joy out of living
But…go on you must

How does one come back from something like that
When dying seems easier than living in fact
Each day that goes by takes another chunk out of me
Moment by moment, I pray for a little peace

(Chorus)
The Will is gone, the Will is gone
Everything I know to try
Seems to go so wrong
The Will is gone, the Will is gone
Everything I feel inside
Tells me, I’m not that strong
How am I supposed to fly
When I can barely stand
I know, I’ve never asked before
Won’t somebody help me if you can…

Sharon Feigenbaum copyright 3/18/2016

Editor’s Note: This amazing poem/song was submitted by a fellow survivor of narcissistic abuse. Want to submit your story? Learn more here. 

Letting Go of the Juicer and My Narcissistic Mom

Letting Go of the Juicer and My Narcissistic Mom

My narcissistic mom was the kind of person who rationalized the decisions she made and the ones she forced on me with “if you don’t do this/if I do this, your father will kill him.”

She made me keep the secret of the neighbor who molested me at age 8. Truth was, I wanted my dad to kill him.

I remember when she told me she had an abortion, sometime after my younger brother was born in 1962 and before 1967 (that’s when they both got sober). She said she’d had the abortion because she became pregnant with a black man from the bar she hung out in and that she knew having a black baby would throw my dad over the edge.

I didn’t need to know that information and could have lived a lifetime without it.

I ended contact with my parents when my son was born in April of 2000. Their gambling addiction turned them into the same people they were when they were drinking and I had made a solemn vow to never live through that again.

Do you know how sometimes when someone gets sober, they start to see the light and start apologizing for their horrible treatment of the people around them?

Sadly, that wasn’t the case for her; sobriety didn’t cure my mom’s narcissism. She just chose to abandon us in a different way.

Grieving the Juiceman Juicer

And now, here I sit, grieving over the fact that I’m about to let go of a Juiceman juicer. I know, it’s weird – but I can’t seem to stop myself.

So why does letting go of the juicer cause me to grieve now? Because once upon a time in those 40 years of life, my mom actually rose to the occasion for eight weeks of my life and was a mom to me.

In hindsight, I realize that my dad most likely paid her to spend a 40 hour week to be my caregiver. But still, that is an unknown and she did help save my life administering the fairly grueling task of the Gerson Therapy. All I was able to do during those initial weeks of the treatment was lay on the couch and walk to the bathroom and do my own coffee treatments.

So the juicer that has been moved with me since 1991 and lived in eight different homes and garages was some sort of representation of having a real mom.

Today I am letting go of the juicer, and facing the reality of how very toxic my mother truly was.

Are you struggling with a narcissistic mother? Join our free support group for adult children of narcissists, right here.

Surviving Sexual and Psychological Abuse: My Story

Surviving Sexual and Psychological Abuse: My Story

Editor’s note: Trigger Warning: This powerful true story of surviving narcissistic abuse and sexual abuse may trigger negative emotions and other issues for you. Please don’t read it unless you feel strong enough to do so.

This is my story of how I survived narcissistic abuse and sexual abuse. Usually, I feel like no one can relate to my life, everything that happened is just way too “extreme.” That was until I discovered the SPANily. Now, I’m sharing my story because I want other survivors to know they aren’t alone.

I grew up in a very sheltered environment. On the outside, my family looked great, and was very respected in our small community.

It’s only now, years after I left them and moved across the country, that I was finally able to open up the huge can of worms that was my past, and face the reality of what happened to me.

My father molested and raped me regularly. My grandfather also did. I was punished if I reacted in any way to their abuse.

Once, I threw up after my father abused me with oral sex. He got so angry because maybe my mother would realize something from seeing or smelling the vomit. I’ll spare you the gory details and just say that he punished me by trying to rape me until I bled. I was 6 years old. This is just one example.

But it wasn’t uncommon: everything my father did, he always blamed on me.

Either it was a punishment, or he would somehow imply that I owed it to him to “cooperate.”

Or he would say, “I know you want this. I know who you REALLY are. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

He would slyly imply that this was the only way to “be good,” or to appreciate him. Often he would do something good for me, and then it was “expected” of me to at least listen to him, no?

Even now it is hard for me to say what it was he was doing to my mind. All I know is that he was smart and sly, and he had my entire being wrapped around his finger. He played with my feelings, my physical sensations, and private things I told him.

Everything was twisted around and used against me.

Being sad in our house was never allowed. He would make us dance and sing even when we didn’t want to. He had this unspoken rule that you are never allowed to be sad, and definitely never allowed to be angry. I lived in terror of anyone finding out my secret, and I learned to dissociate and forget it all myself, in order to survive.

After I moved away, I slowly started realizing how controlling and manipulative my father was. I could not place what it was he was doing! I started feeling awful every time I spoke to him or to my mother.

I started realizing that he was a tricky slippery person. I wished I could just break off contact, I dreamed of it because I was finally realizing how low and horrible he always made me feel.

I reached a point where I finally had the support I needed to remember the stories of abuse. As it started coming back to me, I was filled with such a strong fury. It was like a huge tsunami, powerful and uncontrollable.

It was at this point that I finally broke off all contact with my toxic family. It was hard, but that anger of realizing what he did to me gave me the strength I never could have had otherwise. I was remembering extremely graphic and horrible things, and as I did, I finally gave myself permission to trust my own inner voice and follow my heart.

I started getting rid of everything I owned that was from my former life or my former family. This clean slate enabled me to go further into my past.

Step by step.

I uncovered my mother’s role in it, then the fact that my father would bring other people to abuse me… I realized that my brain has this amazing ability to heal, even the most horrfic and deep wounds.

I saw that my mind knew how to do this, and that my heart was able to guide me as to what step to take next on my healing journey, if only I would be courageous enough to listen to it.

Finally, I was in control of my life, I was free from my family’s toxic hold on me. As I started healing I grew more confident in my own body and mind, and now I am continuing to build myself anew, one step at a time. I feel better than I ever did. I am learning what it means to live a normal healthy life and I am loving every new part of it that I uncover.

When you survive hell, and come out, you are strong and also you’re able to appreciate and enjoy life in a deep and meaningful way that I think only a survivor can enjoy. Sometimes when I do something for myself, I feel as excited as a six year old, like I am experiencing the joys I missed out on as a child.

Life is so bright on the other side and it IS POSSIBLE TO GET THERE! YES FOR YOU also! Don’t take my word for it – don’t give up and you will see for yourself.

Finding Angie’s videos, and this site was exciting for me, because I was finally able to have some sort of place to put my father. He checks off every box on the list of narcissistic characteristics. I connected to everything about what Angie calls Narcissistic Abuse Rehab.

To those of you out there who are here, like me, with the courage to face your pasts and heal, my message to you is: please take a good deep look inside of yourself. Don’t be scared to listen to that niggling deep down voice in your heart. Follow what you know is true, with courage. Don’t let anyone stop you. It is SO WORTH THE FIGHT!

Want to share your narcissistic abuse survivor story? Here’s how you do it. 

Narcissists Isolate You

Narcissists Isolate You

Narcissists Isolate You – From Your Friends, Your Family Members and Anyone Who is WIlling to Support You. In this video, I’ll offer a detailed explanation on why narcissists and people with NPD are so likely to isolate you from everyone you know – and how their flying monkeys play into it. Plus: self-help for dealing with isolation with narcissists in relationships.

True Story: Surviving a Narcissist

True Story: Surviving a Narcissist

Editor’s Note: Dear SPANily, this story was submitted by Anna, a fellow survivor of narcissistic abuse. We share it to offer you hope and to help you understand that you’re not alone. Want to share your story? You can do so right here. 

Anna’s Story

I reconnected with a long time friend in the spring of 2015. We first met as teenagers in 1980, and we are both in our mid-50s now. We’d always kept in touch between relationships and were close. I knew him and I trusted him. I moved 1100 miles at his request to be with him. He told me to move into his house and I did. I got a pretty decent job and believed after all these years the magic was going to happen for me. I fell in love with him.

I lived with him for 3 years until mid-summer of 2018. I use the word “lived” loosely as I feel I merely survived. In addition to the living/dating relationship early on in the love bombing stage, he convinced me to leave my job and come to work for his company.

He said, “Just think of all the freedom you will have, you can come and go etc. as you wish. I will pay you x amount etc. It will be great! “

It has been the worst 3.5 years of my life.

I do not think I can put it into words, but here are a couple of examples of what it was like.

The Flu of 2016

I had the flu for two weeks in 2016 and this is what happened:

He said, “You know when you get well you are going to owe me for all this?”

I said, “You mean I owe you something for taking care of me when I am sick?”

No answer.

Then he comes over and starts picking up cough drop wrappers and says, “I have to clean this shit up.”

He then proceeds to call his friend on the phone and tells them how sick with the flu he is. But he is not sick. He continues lying to his friend about how he is struggling to make it through – no mention as to my health or me at all.

 

Stripping Me of My Identity, One Thing at a Time

I was allowed a 2 x 3 closet for my clothes when I said it is hard for me to fit all my things in this space he told me to get rid of my things until they would fit. I ended up renting a storage container.

How I Finally Escaped, Sort Of

After 3 years of his abuse, I found a very small house and somehow managed to purchase it. I told him I was buying it so my elderly mother would have somewhere to go where she would not have to climb stairs. I convinced him I was telling the truth because my mother is 86 years old.

Meanwhile, I started secretly moving my personal belongings (one backseat full at a time) to the new place. It took about 2 months since I could only load the car when he was gone, but finally, my things were out of his house!

I kept just enough to get ready for work on a daily basis, stopping by my house to trade out clothes on the way to and from work. Eventually, the devalue/discard stage started (as it did on a regular basis) and one night in a rage he told me to leave.

I did. I drove to my home and have been there for 6 months.

I knew he was going to hoover and I knew I was going to be weak so, I went to the humane society and adopted a kitten. This way when he hoovered I could not move back to his house. He has two big cats that don’t play well with others, so my kitten at his house was a no-go.

The Journey Isn’t Over, But There’s Light at the End of the Tunnel

As of today, we are still dating because I work for him and I can not go no contact. I am a gray rock queen and I am not sure I am capable of feeling anything.

My plan for the new year is to secretly get another job. I am 56 years old, so age discrimination is somewhat of a problem. I have a BA from a good University and I am pretty good at a lot of things. My dream is to be a professional writer-blogger etc. however, if I can find something which pays enough to live on I will run like the wind. I am working on my final escape plan.

To Angie: I don’t think I would be writing this today if not for you. I cannot thank you enough for the genuine kindness I feel coming through your videos. Your advice is always on point and well…who doesn’t love coffee?

See Anna’s list of 41 insults and manipulative things her narcissist actually said to her.

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