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.Continue reading
Personally and professionally, I have dealt with narcissistic men in relationships, as family members, as clients, and in business. I like to study patterns that I see that continue to appear over and over again, as a psychotherapist and began to reflect on this when it came to the narcissist specifically; for this post. This is not research, just an observation that I have seen, heard, learned of. I do not work with the narcissist (except when they are part of one of my couples), so I often hear it from the partner. If I am working with a couple, I am able to listen to them when I do a family history and glean more from them with the questions I ask. You have read many articles on line, most likely, about the narcissistic relationship to the wife/girlfriend. This article is going in a different direction.Continue reading
I love many French actresses but Mlle. Fleurot has a style that I have not seen since Catherine Deneuve. This is not putting any of the other women down, there is just a similar type of elegance and grace that comes with this lady. She appears tall and striking on screen and seems to tower over others. Her presence on camera jumps out at you whenever she appears and you almost forget everyone around her. Her demeanor comes across as a delicate flower, assuming she is a vulnerable woman and yet, there is nothing helpless about her. It is a mixed message that she plays in all of the roles that I have seen her in.Continue reading
This is a Hungarian film, with a very very long name: Preparations to be Together for an Unknown Period of Time (2021). It is a film that many women can relate to. The man who isn’t who he says he is. The man who cons us into his disguise. The man who is avoidant and we take on the challenge of falling in love with him and gaining his trust and love. Then he turns into another person. He lies. We try to win him back by being persistent and devout. In the movie, this goes in an interesting direction. A very artistic path. Yes, she does get him back in the end. Only, in real life, this rarely happens.Continue reading
I will not put this movie (French 2018), in “The Arts” section because it is a psychological drama that hits on the topic of sexual abuse, narcissism and women being left alone for several generations; much like Antonia’s Line (Netherlands, 1995). The film starts out in the 1950’s post WWII France. If you are a great film lover, as I am, you will know when you see the cover and the title, it just hits you – I must watch this film. What really piqued my interest was the title “An Impossible Love,” which hit home for me. I saw other things in the description that I ignored at first until it came up on the screen. I love the way Catherine Corsini handles abuse of a child in this film. Extremely subtle. The topic does not even come up until much later in the film. The child’s older lover tells the mother, not to let her daughter visit the father anymore. The shock on the mother’s face, to realize a man she has loved for 16 years, but who has rejected her all the same, is now sexually abusing their daughter. The shock to finally take in the missing pieces of this puzzle “Rachel” has created, her fantasy that he was a great lover, that they had something special together, suddenly unravels before her eyes. Virginie Efira (with the help of the cameraman), gives a somatic demonstration of soul searching, confusion, awareness and reality in just a few seconds of this film.Continue reading
In my heart, there are tears.
Tears of joy,
Of love lost.
In my eyes, there are mirrors.
I can see in and out.
I can see you and me.
I can see that you do not see me.
In my ears, there are waves.
I hear music when we make love.
The rhythm of your laughter
Vibrates my soul.
In my nose, is your scent.
When you are near it is next to me.
When you are far it follows me.
On my mouth is your kiss.
I taste your passion at night,
When I am alone.
Through the passage of time, I have found my mark
And I look back to see how treacherous it was, to embark.
I recall a moment of slashed wrists and a broken plate
A baby crying in the back, while he lay in wait.
I sat in a corner as people walked by
And observed that they lived while I tried to die.
The wells of my emotions had all run dry.
The body was stiff but craved the touch of
One so great who would want so much.
And I looked and I took but they were wrong
Yet even still, I went along.
I knew in my heart that I should walk away
But I craved and I yearned for a voice that would stay.
Someone to see me for who I am
To just once get it right, even if it meant putting up a fight
Thinking I must fix it, assuming it was my fault, to hold this
Relationship and behave like an adult.
In and out of the rooms I would go
Putting on one hell of a show.
I danced and sang and praised and played
While they sucked up the juices and
Fed in to my demise.
I saw the noose hanging above the trap
While I ate and supped on all of their lies.
And when I searched for my mother once more
To give me some respite and nurture these wounds.
Hoping to get a tender embrace, instead she would slap me in my face.
She would call out the shadows from within
And laugh as they sprang forth; ripping the scars on my skin.
There I would sit in a void.
Numb to this renewed place I so wanted to avoid.
Stuck in a web from conception to light
I would scream and cry out wishing it would disappear with the night.
Alas, I am here as is she and the trees are filled with my memories.
I struggle and plod forward with all of my might
Working up the courage to make it alone; assuming that I have the right
And thinking that one day I may become known
When the stone turns and the walls collapse and out of this I won’t relapse.
I dream and I write and I scour my brain, looking for the answers out on the plain.
To imagine this is possible to think that I can,
Like the train who would and could and should make it up to that terrain.
I walked as I thought until I came up with a plan.
Would it work? I wondered as I thought out in haste,
I didn’t want this to be one big waste.
To my surprise the person inside began to emerge
And I saw the words cause the fears to purge
The rage and torment slipped behind the gate
As I felt my fingers once more and I began to create.
Love and forgiveness can conquer all, but only when your partner is mature enough to handle this (see post from yesterday). When both of you value your commitment to each other, yes, love and forgiveness will conquer all ills. What happens when there is a lack of maturity? You can’t control the actions of another. You have to let go when shock and drama won’t because their anger (and your stubbornness to let go) are all that is holding on. The love has ceased to exist. You are a victim of your memories and they are a hostage to their anger.
The shock of learning that your boy/girlfriend or spouse is not the person you thought they were is an extremely painful experience. Seeing their true colors for the first time is the start of a very painful journey. At first, you are in denial. You think that any day they will call to apologize. As time goes on, the longer it takes, the chances are, it is just not going to happen.Continue reading
“Love is a many splendored thing, Love lifts us up where we belong.” from Moulin Rouge with Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman in a duet. I love listening to raw music sung by people who are not necessarily singers but are quite good. I love love, I love being in love, I love feeling love in all its glory. And yet, for most of my life it has come to an end. In fact, it has felt like the end from the beginning. I have lived with several men in my life and never once felt like I was in my own home. Passionate, immature, cocky, egotistical, frightened, PTSD love that was once my life. Now, for once in my life, I am in love with a man who I can be uncomfortable with and this allows me to grow. Someone who allows me to be myself so that I am able to come into myself as a woman. I feel safe and secure, being in love. It feels like it took forever to get here. And yet, we have taken things very very slow. Like it should be. And it makes so much more sense!
A victim of domestic violence has a lot of anger inside toward the perpetrator. Before I escaped my ex-husband I attempted suicide because I did not know that I could escape his prison. I did not know I had choices. I could walk away, although it wasn’t easy, or I could just sit there and not take any control over my life or my son’s.
There were many times when I thought about attempting suicide and there are many things that I wrote, much of which makes no sense now, during those brief periods of depression. My writing helped me to think things through. Consequently I have many journals that I will probably burn some day.