I don’t get much writing done lately. Well not anything suitable for a romance novel anyway. There is no romance left in me. There’s too much hate. And sorrow, and rage. Blood boiling rage.
I’ve lost myself. I’ve lost my voice. I need time to heal. To work worth the mess that is my head.
But it’s not just me who’s been affected, my family walk this long road beside me, and I can see how hard it is for them. They don’t understand fully and I guess I wrote this letter in hopes of helping them understand.
An open letter to my family. To anyone that’s ever been in a abusive relationship, whether physical or emotional. You are not alone….
Please choose your words wisely, be kind with me.
When you say I’m being weak. That I’m allowing him to walk all over me, please understand this.
You’re new to this game. His world. A world were normal rules don’t apply, were he’s the winner, no matter the cost. He is the games master, don’t fool yourself into believing otherwise.
I should know I’ve been playing this game for over a decade. Playing and losing.
Now I know what you are thinking; don’t let him win, he doesn’t control you anymore, he’s left.
And you’re right. He’s left. The games changed, but the rules haven’t. He’s still the games master, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be the pawn.
Don’t get me wrong, in the beginning I played to win. I pushed back against his control. I was strong. I was his equal. But a narcissist doesn’t like equals, and by the time he decided to knock me down a peg or two I was already in love. I was already dependent on him for my happiness.
That’s the thing about the narcissists game. It starts without you even knowing.
Of course I won occasionally, sometimes my cracked and bruised inner self stood up and said NO! You don’t get to win this time.
But he always won in the end. He always found a way to punish me.
So yeah, I understand your frustration, I get where you are coming from.
He’s left me. Discarded me like a broken toy, and God I’m thankful for that. But I’m still in the game. He still knows how to punish me.
It’s hard for you to understand. I guess unless you’ve lived with a narcissist you’ll never really be able to get it. He doesn’t have to hurt me physically, or yell at me. He doesn’t even have to talk to me. Because he knows me. He created me. He knows my triggers, which words will cut deep, and while you’re thinking we won that round.
I know my punishment is coming. It will be in the form of a text, because that’s the only way he can reach me now. To you the message will just contain words but to me,to me it will contain poison and it doesn’t have to be obvious, because that’s his favourite part. He knows my buttons, he put them there himself.
One simple word and he gets to me. One word and he’s won.
So next time he starts please remember this…
I’m tired. I don’t want to play his game anymore, and sometimes the only way to win, is to not deal a hand at all…
Rachel M Raithby 