As insensitive as the abuser is to you, they are sensitive to themselves. Narcissistic injuries are generally caused by stray comments or acts that wouldn’t cause pain to anyone but a narcissist. Narcissistic injuries oftentimes lead to narcissistic rage.
Example: You cooked spaghetti for dinner instead of linguini. Linguini is their favorite! The market was out of spaghetti! You didn’t think it was such a big deal. Wrong.
They have now thrown the bowl of spaghetti at you while screaming rageful words that are beyond imagination because you have caused a narcissistic injury.
The root of this injury wasn’t your choice of pasta. The root of this injury is, in their mind, you don’t love them enough to cook their favorite noodles. You have tricked them.
Their lack of empathy for others is the polar opposite of their empathy or sensitivity towards themselves. The steel casing around their heart and soul is more akin to a smear of butter than metal when it comes to protecting their core sense of shame. Any act or words that pierce the delicate sheath will be swiftly and brutally avenged with rage and/or violence.
They wear a crown of shame atop their throne of entitlement.
April of 2020, I escaped my abuser for the final time.
I crammed what I could into a storage bin meant to meet me when I finally found a home, stuffed my car and drove north for 1,000 miles during the height of the quarantine-period of the global pandemic.
I’m quite proud of this now, as you can imagine.
I am free after years of living under the reign of emotional abuse and the near-constant threat of violence.
There were many attempts to leave over the years, hundreds of hours of therapy sessions to help me understand what the heck was going on in my head to have allowed this relationship to flourish, and even more hours spent understanding the dynamics of abuse through reading and being involved in online support groups for victims of narcissistic and domestic abuse.
I am a writer by trade and have written about my journey through and out of abuse for the past six years. Many of my writings have been lost over time. Some of what remains lies here on this blog.
Many people I’ve never met, and probably will never meet, have supported, and inspired me over the years. Their words and experience helped me feel not alone.
I was understood.
Being understood and believed is half the battle out of the hell of abuse.
This blog is my attempt to give back to the community that saved me.
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R. H. Writes 