“You said you packed everything,” Ashton whined for the third time since he’s been home from work. We were getting ready to leave for a weekend trip to visit my in-laws in Tennessee.
“You’re putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say that. I said that I packed the kids’ stuff and the toiletries.” I even showed him the text as proof.
Once again, Ashton is misrepresenting what I say. That dumb b****. And then he had the audacity to ask me if I wanted to argue, just because I corrected him. He hates being wrong – it’s a threat to his confidence. So, I thought to myself: No, a**h***, I don’t want to argue with you. I just want you to quit blaming me for sh** that I didn’t say.
I was writing the above synopsis in Google Keep on my phone to articulate my feelings. I was still upset with Ashton and trying to vent in a healthy way. Plus, I didn’t want to forget what happened so that I could quit romanticizing our toxic relationship and eventually be able to break these trauma bonds between us. We had already started out on our road trip, and he asked me about what I was doing on my phone. I told him that I was journaling.
“About me?” he asked defensively.
“Yes,” I finally replied after trying to avoid his persistent questioning.
He then kept pressuring me to let him read what I wrote about him. I told him that I didn’t want him to read it, that wasn’t such a good idea. But, he was relentless. He ended up grabbing my phone from me once we stopped at a gas station and reading it, anyway. He violated my boundaries, once again. What an a**h***. I can’t have anything to myself. I just feel so angry and discouraged right now that I could scream! After he read it, he asked me if that’s how I really felt about him.
“Sometimes,” I replied.
Then he forced me to talk to him about my feelings or he was going to turn around and go back home. He blamed me for the inconvenience (of forfeiting the trip) because he was angry that I refused to “communicate” with him. I kept telling him that I wasn’t ready to talk about it, that I needed time to articulate my feelings and calm down. But, he was as relentless as Chinese water torture. I finally exploded and started yelling, cursing at him, and crying. Our poor children in the back seat, who unfortunately had to bear witness to it all, started crying, too.
“Good,” he said, cool as a cucumber. “Let it out.”
He seemed too pleased that I just lost complete control and upset our children. But that’s what narcissists do. They’re so insecure that when they feel like they’re not in control, it’s a threat to their fragile sense of self-esteem. (I’m clueless as to why my narcissist felt so insecure about a journal entry, though I do know that narcissists don’t see you as an individual but as an extension of their self, so they have absolutely no respect for your boundaries.) So, they manipulate your feelings in order to get a negative reaction from you; they push you over the edge. Once you lose control of your emotions, it utterly relieves them to see that now you’re the one out of control, which disgustingly makes them feel like the victim and back in control. But, it only made me hate him because he pushed me (and does so on a regular basis) and hate myself because I could feel the utter defeat and disappointment as I was crashing down.