Somehow with all my best laid defenses and a psych degree in hand, another narcissist was able to work his magic and pique my clinical interest, to engage me in conversation.
It all began 2 years ago when I was on an online support webpage at the bottom of a deep dark depression hoping to crawl out.
Narcissist Personality Disorder is of great clinical interest to me as is other Cluster B personality disorders.
So it all started out rather benign-ish. Said Narc finds me online and poses as a woman to befriend me. Why I was targeted I will never know. He explains that he was using a business account, hence the woman profile, which never held any water. This narc can’t think quickly on his feet. I ask why he was really on the support page. He said his wife was trying to kill him and he was there to receive support for her abuse…. more bullshit. Eventually I call him out on all of it, realizing I have a narc on my hands. He said he wanted my help. If it was true, which I had serious doubts, I was happy to oblige. If the truth was any stranger it would be fiction.
It didn’t take long for his true intentions to be revealed. That he wanted to talk dirty, gloating that he can get any woman to swoon. But I told him with my recent separation and depression, I was the bell jar. I wasn’t going to swoon over anything but a funeral pyre.
Over time he wants me to know two very important things about him: He has a big cock and a big wallet.
Online you can be anyone you want to be. He could be living in his parents basement with his pet iguana making women squeal for all I know while momma is upstairs cookin’ up some bacon. STRANGER THINGS have happened.
The difference is that I know he was a narcissist and I did from day one. I’m a tertiary supply for him. He comes around when his primary and secondary sources are scant. Odd hours. Odd texts which go nowhere. A strange meme here, an odd web link there. The whole thing is odd. It finally dawned on me that’s it. It’s a dead end. It’s a mind fuck. He always leads the conversations back to him and his magnificent cock. Which by the way I’ve never seen (nor do I want to) just saying. Right now it’s pure folklore that his cock is the Sasquatch of schlong’s.
I wonder why the hell I keep replying to this fool. He ghosts me for weeks or months at a time then he flits in like a moth lighting for a moment under my lamp, to say that if I was in his presence I wouldn’t be able to resist him.
Oh joy, oh rapture, unforeseen.
I had let him know my mom had died. It’s always a bad idea to disclose any personal information. I was so depressed for the month and a half afterwards that I couldn’t function at all. I hadn’t responded to anyone’s text messages save for my sister, for a few weeks. This obviously had upset him, as he texted, “how is you Mom doing ?”
He’s so cold. Interacting with him is making my self-esteem worse, my depression worse. I told him recently that I had suicidal thoughts of jumping off a bridge. Haven’t had anything like this I’m years. I am beginning to believe he wants me dead.
I always end up feel so degraded. I have no one to blame but myself. I went in to this eyes wide open. I just can’t understand why I’ve let this shit happen. He uses me like an emotional piece of toilet paper to wipe his ass, save for the fact he has no emotions. Sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees. Usually I have a fair amount of insight, but I cannot seem to figure out why I’m in this mess.
Please, anyone want to take a crack???