If you’ve read my blogs, you’ll know that much of what I write is rooted in personal growth, especially my journey since walking away from illicit drug use. I draw on what I call my own“counselling sessions” but it’s just me, a pen, and a willingness to have a word with myself. This process/pratice hasn’t just helped me make sense of the consequences of my dependency, but it’s helped me understand what led me there in the first place.
I don’t write to assign blame, i take full accountability for myself, but the truth is I can’t ignore the truth either: Which is had I not been in a relationship a Narcissist and someone who sold drugs, I may never have picked up a drug in the first place. But the fact is, I did.
I was young and emotionally naive when I met the father of my children, my first serious relationship the perfect catch, at least it would have been his own version of events.
It first it was perfect, early on I did question if it was too good to be true, but I pushed my gut instinct to one side as I was carrying his child, but it wasn’t long before he started to play me like a fiddle. Our relationship felt like a constant game of cat and mouse, where he held the strings, and I lived in a haze of doubt. For years, I allowed my life to be narrated by someone who wore entitlement like armour, who communicated through manipulation, and who weaponised victimhood. He craved validation, exaggerated his importance, and spun lies with ease. Read more on this here
As with addiction, if you’ve never lived through narcissistic abuse, you might not understand just how hard it is to break free. Like when I had previously tried to leave, he used our children as pawns to pull me back. It worked. My drug use could’ve been my downfall, my demise but the trust is it became my turning point—the beginning of my rise, and my reason to leave, for good.
Even now and even after being in a healthy relationship for over 30 years, trauma still lingers like a long lost shadow. I was prompted to write this after a recent conversation last weekend (and another incident) which stirred feelings I thought I’d long since buried. It wasn’t just nostalgia—i got something that I hadn’t felt before which was reinforced validation. Validation from someone who had experienced the same abuse but what also followed was anger, which soon turned into a sense of duty.
The impact of being in a relationship, or being related to a narcissist, is something that too often stays in the dark because for the victim it is hard to make sense of or to even consolidate.
This blog isn’t just about calling out bad behaviour. This blog is about calling Narcissistic Abuse for what it is and that is – Coercive Emotional Abuse, which unlike physical abuse is invisible to the naked eye, but the damage is still there. I am writing this just in the hope that if any of what I say resonates with you, it will give you the strength to speak your truth. Even if it’s quietly. Even just to yourself.
After years of reflection—and a lot of research I now know that I wasn’t just recovering from substance dependency, but from something known as Narcissistic Abuse Syndrome. More on that here
It took me years to recover. My greatest regret is that my children didn’t have the same choice I did and the guilt still lives in me. I have written about this previously here
I’ve avoided this subject in my writing for a long time, even my poetry is written in the third person n because I some how It helps me to process but at the same time dissociate. But now, I feel safe enough emotionally to write more openly—and this post is just the beginning.
But until then, I want to offer some insights from my lived experience.
So how do you know you’re dealing with a narcissist?
Well for starters they don’t come with warning signs or labels, but these are a few of the patterns I’ve seen:
• A string of failed relationships (never their fault, of course)
• Constantly positioning themselves as the victim
• Inability to take responsibility or admit fault
• Masters of love bombing—lavishing you with affection and attention, often before there’s emotional depth or trust
The abuse is often so subtle that you barely notice it happening. That’s why many of us stay too long. For me, it was seven years.
Love bombing is just the beginning. Once they know they’ve got you, the masks slip. Low empathy, a sense of entitlement, arrogance, constant need for admiration, and an unshakable self-centeredness soon follow. But the worst part? The manipulation and gaslighting—so effective they make you question your reality and in may case his abuse alongside the drugs use, cause me to lose my sanity.
Even after I left, I was still caught in his emotional grip. I’d hate him one moment and feel sorry for him the next. I now know it wasn’t pity—it was symptoms of Stockholme Sydrome More on that here
It takes time—so much time—to untangle that kind of psychological web and rebuild your relationship with yourself. But eventually, I saw it for what it was: abuse.
The term narcissist gets thrown around a lot these days. But there’s a clear difference between someone being Emotionally Immature and having a Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). Personality disorders are enduring and deeply ingrained, distorting how people perceive and interact with the world around them. You can read more here
Let’s be honest—most narcissists don’t get diagnosed. Why would they? They lack the self-awareness needed to accept fault, never mind seek help. But you don’t need a clinical label to trust what you’re experiencing.
To qualify for an official diagnosis of NPD, a person must meet at least five of the following:
1. A grandiose sense of self-importance
2. Preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success or perfection
3. Believes they’re “special” and can only be understood by high-status people
4. Requires excessive admiration
5. Holds a sense of entitlement
6. Exploits others for personal gain
7. Lacks empathy
8. Is envious or believes others envy them
9. Displays arrogant or haughty behaviours
If these traits sound familiar, trust your gut—you might be dealing with someone with undiagnosed NPD.
So, now what? That depends. If the person in question is a family member—like in my children’s case—it’s more complex. This article may help
If you’re in a romantic relationship and you’re feeling confused, anxious, numb, regretful, or feel like you are in a constant state of hyper vigilance—please hear me when I say this:
It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You cannot blame yourself for not knowing what you didn’t know before.
Even after I left, I struggled to trust my own thoughts, emotions, even my memories. That’s the aftershock. When you’ve focused so long on someone else, it feels unnatural to turn inward. Healing won’t happen overnight, you need to be very patient and gentle with yourself. I also found this article that I think offers some practical steps, including:
• Acknowledging the abuse
• Rebuilding your self-worth
• Prioritising self-care and healing
Learning about trauma bonding was a game changer for me—it helped me understand not only why it was so hard to break free, but also how to move forward.
Right now, I’m reading The Covert Narcissist by Dr. Theresa J. Covert. And honestly? It’s like someone turned on the lights in a room I didn’t realise I’d been sitting in.
If any of this resonates with you, I want you to know: you are not alone, you are not to blame, and you are not broken.
Healing is not linear, and courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispers: “This isn’t right.” And that, too, is enough to begin.
Love Fordy
AKA #Unapologeticwriter
Remember – I don’t write for financial reward or gain. I want to help share my lived experience with others, hoping it helps. Plus I love to write, so if you fancy getting the occasional email (NO SPAM) with the most up-to-date blogs from yours truly, please feel free to subscribe at the bottom of the main page.