I suddenly realized that the maternity of my mother was love bombing. Further to that, I am beginning to understand now that all narcissistic abuse must be rooted in some kind of unhealed formative trauma bonding. Without any exception. A fused object relations soup that remains frozen (family fantasy trauma bond) and vibes out to the future narcissist like a WiFi signal.

Yet when sufferers of abuse talk about their own experiences, they may not realize that they are providing supply (or the promise of future supply) to the narcissist by not making the dot connect specifically to family, and that their family of origin did not and could not care about them (the real them), and that it wasn’t personal (that’s the problem). Thus the « cocaine level high ».

This dot connect isn’t being made. In fact the narcissist as being the source issue of the abuse is front and center. Exactly where the narcissist needs to be. Healing happens with the insight (subconscious) development slowly arriving. Protecting parents and the original false self set up is spontaneous and implicit. Held in the body.

Trust me, I tried everything in the book to get things on an even keel, but narcissists have to control everything, or else. I never even got to order what I wanted from a menu. The love bombing was exquisite and for so long I refused to believe I could possibly have been hoodwinked so thoroughly.
But, hey, there is good news I managed to harvest off the decayed remains of “our love.” I realized that I can be the most loving, faithful, creative, patient loved one, and I can feel love from every pore when I believe I am loved as much as I thought I was during the stage one Blitzkrieg bombing.
Even afterwards when Mr. Hyde came out, I still rationalized and believed the verbal abuse, lies and cheating all had some degree of plausible deniability.
I have gradually accepted that the ordeal of loving a narcissist is like surviving a plane crash or other life altering occurrence. I had to accept that all it takes is a few triggers coming too close together are enough to put me in a three-day funk.
It’s not like healing from a broken bone–it’s more like some funky emotional wound you cannot locate or fully treat. Time helps, and no contact is crucial if possible, but it’s like a heroin addict in recovery who winds up at at party with giant piles of the drug, plus all the gear to use it placed everywhere.
Though 80% of me wishes I never met the bozo, but 20% of me knows I never would have felt highs this high or sorrows this low without crazy pants. I never knew I could love anyone that much. Whoever gets me next will get a very good partner…as long as they are not NPDs.

I absolutely love your 4 boundaries, especially since you also DEMAND the same from your partner. You have really empowered me today. I am married to a narcissist who I am having a hard time divorcing. The strangest thing for me has been the fact that he is so blatant in his disrespectful and his disdain for me, but I can’t let go because of the success of the “love bombing ” that occurred at the beginning. I just knew that I had found the nicest, sweetest man on the planet. And for some reason, I think that he is hiding inside of himself and that it is MY responsibility to bring him back out. But with all of the other things going on in my life, such as being an essential employee in the middle of a pandemic, and hoping that I stay safe and healthy, I just can not afford to add emotional abuse to my list of battles. Enough is enough. Time to go no contact. I know that I need to be prepared for the hoovering that will inevitably occur.

I deserve more than a self absorbed robot who has to bleed others of their joy so they can steal it from us, try it on and when it doesn’t fit, throw it in the gutter.

Thank you, Kristen, for sharing the wisdom you’ve gleaned from your NPD experiences.