On the heels of yesterday’s post, Confessions of a Trauma Bond Survivor, I will continue to tell Annika’s story from the other side (I am also continuing to share this in first person). Having been through this horrible ordeal with her previous lover, and going through the pain and suffering from this trauma bond, Annika began to awaken her consciousness by taking responsibility for how she got here. There are two sides to every story. No one is born a narcissist and no one is born a victim. We make interpretations from the cards that are dealt to us, along the way.

I prefer to say promiscuous, rather than saying that I am a nymphomaniac or a sex addict because, when you think of these words, you are put in the mindset of someone engaged in behaviors that are immoral or deviant. However, like in the French movie Nymphomaniac, I was introduced to sex at a very young age. It was not by adults but by boys my own age. They were one to two years older than me and so I don’t see this as abuse, just children with amazing curiosities. Of course, who knows where it started for them. By being exposed to this, I, myself, learned early on, that boys liked sex. I learned too, that I enjoyed it as well.

I was 16 years old before I actually engaged in proper intercourse, so the childhood experiences were more touching and exploration of genitals. I doubt we even knew what else you could do, at that time. I didn’t set out to be a promiscuous woman either. The childhood experiences were far behind me. There were three young people taken from my life, in a span of ten years. These were life changing moments that caused me to become numb. I had tried cutting in my teens, but this didn’t fulfill me. Sex did. It was soothing, I felt loved, I was very good with men and I enjoyed becoming better and better. I also enjoyed feeling as if they wanted me, at least, while it lasted. I always new it would end.

The life changing moments started with a young man who I was infatuated with. I was about 15 and he was 17. He died in a terrible accident. It was my first experience of losing someone amongst my peers and my girlfriends and I were all beside ourselves. We had a pretty tight community then, but even seeing what our parents when through, his parents, it was more than we could bare. Then, I lost my two year old child in a divorce, about four years later. It was my own naivete to life as a I was still a young woman who felt like a little girl. I even tried taking my own life, at that time, but the doctor sewed me back up. It was a stupid act for attention. Finally, the icing on the cake was the loss of a family member who was only 16. Again, another tragic accident. Death and loss, three times and I was only 25.

I didn’t set out to have a life of promiscuity. I believed I would be in a relationship, re-marry and have more children. When you are young, you can make yourself believe almost anything. It was a mixed message. I would meet the men, jump into bed with them and expect true love. At first, the true love seemed possible. Both of us were discussing this topic. When my family member died, I lost control of myself. I couldn’t see straight. There were a series of relationships that just kept coming and going, one after another. I didn’t like the beginning of a relationship, the intimacy was too much for me to handle. Even though I knew they were going to leave me, at some point, I preferred to just have fun in the meantime.

The covert narcissist, my last relationship, wasn’t my first narcissist. Losing the last child, after this, they were all narcissists, one way or another. They were very easy to get into bed, because they like to play follow the leader. They won’t take responsibility for anything. It all had to be my fault. So, I accepted my fate. In my last relationship, I kept thinking of the metaphor of the Vampire. The thought that I had welcomed him into my home, so easily, so captivated by his charms, his presumed innocence and yet, I now wonder if he wasn’t aware of what he was doing all along. With the Vampire, they never come into your home, you have to allow them in. Once there, they can engage in stealing your soul. I really thought he wanted me and yet, with all the signs I was given, nothing made sense. Until the end. But, I already mapped out this story, that Jeannine shared with you yesterday.

Sex is an act that allows one to act out their fantasies or you can make love, which ever you choose. There is fucking and there is loving. It all depends on what mood you are in for the day. When a man is a narcissist, he becomes your audience. He is never loving you, because he does not know how to love. He will admire all that you have to give though and even howl at the moon, like Marcello Mastroianni with Sophia Loren, as she did a strip tease for him. They will indulge in whatever you have to give. With a covert narcissist, when they have had enough, they will step on you like a piece of trash. At some point, they get tired of catering to the actress on stage. At some point, another actress will appear. One who is different, younger, or something that they suddenly need to fulfill themselves. Ultimately, I have always wanted a relationship. Apparently, a covert narcissist does not. It would seem that some narcissists do get married. Evidently, there is a trick about making this happen. With any man, there is a way to get to the altar. I only knew how to have sex. I didn’t know how to get back to the altar. And, the first time, I was a little girl. It was what I was taught happened when you graduated from high school. He asked. He knew he could control me. I accepted. Then I saw marriage wasn’t a place I wanted to stay for the rest of my life – he was a batterer and I didn’t want this. It wasn’t my idea of forever.

Sex was a forever place that I wanted to be. I wanted to be with one person though, I just didn’t know how to get from point A to point B. I was too focused on the sex. If I didn’t like it, I’d leave. If they weren’t open enough, I’d leave. If they intimidated me, I’d leave. Sometimes they left me. They always came back, and I knew they would. Until the last one. He got one over on me. His humiliation was one game I wasn’t used to. It was my karma for playing with my soul. For not taking myself seriously. I guess the Gods decided it was time for me to have a wake-up call. And, when you mess with men and get too caught up in yourself, at some point, the game is over. At some point, you must face reality.

My covert narcissist lover was my downfall and my salvation all at the same time. I woke up and began to work on myself. I realized that my path had gone astray and I didn’t know where I was anymore. I didn’t know who I was. I looked back on the life I had created for myself and saw a very lonely woman. I looked back at all the wonderful men I had met along the way. I saw all the fun I had. I looked within and found an empty vessel. I knew it was time to turn my life around. And, so I have.