© 2018 Laura Charanza All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. ISBN 978-1-54393-387-1 eBook 978-1-54393-388-8 Disclaimer The events portrayed in this book are correct to the best of my memory. While this is a work of nonfiction and all the stories in this book are true, some names and other details have been altered for literary effect and to protect the privacy of those involved. For My Tribe: Amy, Kim, Sunnie, Tricia and Leah Rebecca and Ray CONTENTS Introduction CHAPTER 1 - When It All Blows Up CHAPTER 2 - Different Types of Psychological Abuse CHAPTER 3 - Narcissistic Abuse and Its Victims CHAPTER 4 - Breaking Down Narcissistic Traits CHAPTER 5 - What Causes Narcissism? Environment vs. Genetics CHAPTER 6 - Who Are the Narcissist’s Victims? CHAPTER 7 - The Cycle of Abuse CHAPTER 8 - The Narcissist’s Tactics CHAPTER 9 - Children of Narcissists CHAPTER 10 - Can Narcissism Rub Off on Children? CHAPTER 11 - Coping Mechanisms CHAPTER 12 - Divorcing the Narcissist CHAPTER 13 - Preparing for Divorce: What to Do Now, Even If You Aren’t Ready CHAPTER 14 - After the Divorce: Breathe, But Don’t Take Off Your Armor CHAPTER 15 - Healing: The Most Important Part of the Rest of Your Life CHAPTER 16 - So Where Is God in All This? Introduction The scars from mental cruelty can be as deep and long-lasting as wounds from punches or slaps but are often not as obvious. In fact, even among women who have experienced violence from a partner, half or more report that the man’s emotional abuse is what is causing them the greatest harm.1 – Lundy Bancroft, Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men T his is the story of what I thought was my own romantic movie turned horror film. I thought I’d found my soulmate, and then discovered Jekyll and Hyde. This is my truth, and it is a truth that I didn’t want to acknowledge for some time. I am not writing this book from the point of view of a psychologist, but from a survivor’s first-hand experiences of narcissistic abuse—twice. Narcissistic abuse is different from physical abuse. The wounds are deeper, yet invisible. There are no bruises, broken bones, or black eyes. With physical abuse, the victim can point at the perpetrator and say, “YOU hurt ME.” With the emotional and verbal abuse inflicted by a narcissist, it happens slowly, usually over a long period of time. It’s an insidious, progressive breakdown of self- worth and identity. Sadly, it’s evil and intentional. After narcissistic abuse, the victims are left with the belief that something is inherently wrong with them and that they are the sole problem. The narcissist programs the victim to believe that at a natural, organic level, something is so absent in the victim that he or she is not enough, is not worthy of love or respect. Many men and women are victims of narcissistic abuse for over a decade before they realize what’s happening. By then, a victim is a shell of what he or she used to be. During my years of dealing with narcissistic abuse, my counselor shared a story with me about a mom who gave birth to her son, and when the nurses laid the infant on her chest, the woman screamed, “Get this thing off me!” This boy, now in his teens, has lived every day since trying to win his mother’s approval. He hasn’t. My counselor told this story to me so that I could understand where the problem originates in narcissism and specifically what it means for its victims. For narcissists, even their own children don’t measure up or are held to impossibly high standards. A mother giving birth to a baby should feel an overwhelming sense of unconditional love, not revulsion. The child in this true story was simply born. He didn’t do anything to deserve the ugly love he received. Your experience may not be as momentous or blatant as this one, or maybe it’s worse. Regardless, there’s a reason you’ve picked up this book. Mine wasn’t a mother who repulsed me, but I did have 46 years with most of them spent as the victim of narcissistic abuse. I can tell you how the damage starts to wear away at your soul. It makes the idea of self-love or true, unconditional love from another human being seem impossible. You feel unworthy, unloved, and simply not enough. You’ve had that drilled in your head for so many years and heard it so many times, there’s a tape recorder playing those critical words over and over inside your mind no matter who you are with or what you are doing. Until you heal from narcissistic abuse, it’s difficult to not attract or be a victim of the next narcissist who comes into your life. I was raised by a parent with narcissistic traits, and then I married a narcissist who was also an emotional and verbal abuser. Don’t look at it as your mistake. The nicest, most loving, caring, and intelligent people are duped daily by these masterminds, especially in partnerships or marriages. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’ve picked up this book. You’ve made the first, most important and even life-changing step: recognizing you’ve been damaged by a narcissist. It is possible to work through your feelings, heal, and decide whether to turn away from or leave the narcissist in your life. I don’t want you to live one more day without starting your journey to self-love. Why This Book and Why Now? Unfortunately (and fortunately), a breakup brought me to my lowest low. A man I loved and thought I would marry after my divorce dropped his façade after eight months, and he left me wondering “What just happened?” This after we had spoken about how many rooms we would need in “our” house and how well our kids got along. It was brutal. He told me he could love me but not my son. Well, I told him, we are a package deal. This deal was off. I couldn’t eat or sleep for days after the breakup. I cried and cried, and I could seldom tell when the tears would come. I recall pulling through a Starbucks drive through in San Antonio, where I had kept it together for a 12- hour work day with a VP at my company. This was the week after we broke up, and by the time I pulled around to the window I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t talk. That sweet barista looked at me and said, “Sweetheart, it’s going to all be okay.” He bought my coffee for me. A simple, kind act from a stranger made the tears fall faster and harder. On the plane home that night, I realized that my self-esteem and self-love shouldn’t be tied this strongly to a man, especially one who wasn’t everything I had hoped for in a future husband and role model for my son. I needed to find a way to approach life as some of my closest friends were learning to do: confident, living for God’s purpose, and generally just happy. Through counseling, both through cognitive therapy and spiritual healing, I learned that it was my past experiences with narcissism that were causing me to live this intense pain over and over. Any future breakups would be this brutal because each time I was reliving my futile efforts to win love in both my childhood and my divorce. So began my journey. Before I go any further, I will say one thing. My mother and I are the closest we have been in this lifetime. I’ve seen glimpses of her support during and after my divorce. That said, this book looks back at the formative years and her struggles to raise me without a good foundation of her own. So, Mom, know that this book was written to detail the difficult times of my life and yours, not the present time. I wish I could have met your standards. When I began my healing process, I had to look back and dissect what went wrong to leave me so broken, depressed, and hurt. Looking back, I realized my mother, who I love very much, is a narcissist. From what I’ve learned about my grandfather, she was raised by one, or a man with enough narcissistic traits to do damage. My mom, it seemed, worked hard every day to win my grandfather’s approval. This parental behavior was passed down to her as she became a mother to me and my brother. For us, it was constant turmoil and diligent work to win her love. For me, especially as the same sex child, I never did. If there is any relationship on this earth that should embody unconditional love, it is the love between a parent and child. My mom’s love was conditional, based on my looks,