A Day in the Life of a Toxic Relationship
Many don’t recognise narcissistic abuse when they are caught in the middle.
My alarm goes off and I snooze it a couple of times like I always do. I turn around and spoon him. It feels as if the warmth of his body spreads straight into my heart and fills me with happiness as I drift off again.
His alarm goes off now and he starts to stir. “Would you like a coffee?” I whisper between the kisses I place on his face and body.
“Yes, please,” he replies, turning off his alarm.
When I come back with the coffee, he is fast asleep again. I try to wake him gently without success. I know he doesn’t have to start work until 10 am so I get my laptop and start working next to him while I study his face. I look at his beard that I love to run my fingers through, his thick hair with the little grey stripes that he is so proud of. I run my fingers over his lips gently, those lips that can make me lose myself completely when we kiss.
I admire how handsome he looks and focus on feeling the incredible amount of love I have for this man. I never thought I would feel like this again, but here he is, lying in my bed. And one day, I think, one day this will be normal and one day I will wake up like this every single day.
But just as I start to picture our future, my brain throws this curveball in: “And is that what you really want?”
It annoys me when it does that to me. Why can’t you just let me feel happy, brain?
It is 10 to 10 when I concentrate my efforts on waking him up again.
“What time is it?” When I tell him, he shoots out of bed. “Why did you not wake me? I have a meeting in 10 minutes and I haven’t even showered!”
“I am really sorry. I knew you were knackered and just thought you needed a little lie-in,” I respond, immediately feeling guilty. “You don’t have to be on camera, just do it from bed, I will go through,” I add, but he is already mad with panic.
“Seeeeee,” my brain whispers to me, “you think you can deal with this every day?”
I can! I know I can. I know he likes to be organised and planned, I should have known better. Why was I so selfish? I just enjoyed watching him sleep and didn’t consider his needs. Why am I always so selfish?
I sit in the living room, focusing on my work. As always, I have to do a million things at once, when he comes through and starts talking.
“Sorry,” I say. “I am just in the middle of typing and can’t focus — give me a second.”
He waits until I look at him from over my screen. He tells me a story about his sister-in-law that came up in his family chat this morning, and I catch myself wondering if he will always be this involved and wrapped up in his ex-wife’s family lives.
Then the inevitable happens — I catch a message popping onto my screen from the corner of my eye. I glimpse down.
“For fuck sake, Kara, you never listen!” he shouts and storms through.
“For fuck sake, Kara,” I say to myself. “What on earth is wrong with you?” as I run after him. “I am so sorry! I should have closed my laptop. I was in the middle of working through an important issue and I should have waited until it was resolved. Please continue with your story. You were just saying that…” and I recite everything he told me to the tiniest detail to show I was paying attention.
“It doesn’t matter now, it wasn’t important anyway. I just find it frustrating that we can’t ever have a normal conversation about trivial things.”
“I am so so sorry,” I repeat again.
I was never a very good listener, but so far it hadn’t been an issue in my relationships or work. My husband had not been much of a talker, so I had gotten used to one-sided conversations. Now was different though—he loved to talk, and he hated not being heard.
Several times he had called me out on things I forgot that he had told me, or where I had forgotten some detail of a story or had asked him to tell me something again.
“I am really working on it,” I say. “I don’t know if you have noticed, but ever since you brought this up as a problem, I have really been making an effort to give you my full attention and listen to what you say. And I have been trying to make a habit of letting you know when I am distracted and cannot fully concentrate.”
“No, I haven’t noticed. I actually think it has gotten worse.”
“That makes me sad. I really am trying. I want to be a better listener. I can change, please be patient with me — I know I can change.”
“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel sad, I can only be honest with you and tell you what I see and that I think it has gotten worse. Sometimes I wonder if it’s on me and that I am just such a boring person that you can’t pay attention to what I say.”
Tears are streaming down my face as I hug him, but he doesn’t return the hug. He is cold and distant. I hate myself.
It is lunchtime now, we have just had sex and are lying in bed together. I feel so happy. The sex is like nothing I have ever experienced before and I feel so incredibly lucky to have found him.
The way he reacts to my body makes me feel like I am the most attractive woman on earth. He notices every tiny detail and loves everything about me. He teases me just enough to make me go wild and then makes all the right movements, touches the right places to make me come over and over again.
In these moments, I can feel how much he loves me, how perfect we are for each other. I don’t worry about our relationship, him, or myself. I feel perfect for him.
I stroke his chest and gently kiss his tattoos. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” he responds.
“You know what? I am so curious to find out how and when you will propose.”
“Ha, yes,” he replies, turning towards me. “Believe me, I am thinking about that a lot.”
I feel a huge weight lift off my mind. He really does love me. We just have to get through this and then, when we are really in a “proper, proper” relationship, everything will go back to how we felt at the start. I just have to give him time, work on myself, and practise patience and understanding.
Why did I ever doubt that the man I fell so madly in love with is still in there? We will get through this! My phone vibrates and I check it.
“God,” he rolls his eyes, “your phone notifications make me sick — do you never clear any?”
I look at them and start clearing. He is right, I need to get a grip and organise myself better. Why can’t I be as organised as him? I hate myself.
The workday is over and he packs to leave. It’s a routine that we have had for the past six months now. Nothing in my home will remind me that he was here. He picks the blonde hairs from his jumper thoroughly. Nothing to remind anyone that he was with me.
“It’s been over a year now, he will never leave her,” my brain hisses while I watch him get ready, and I force myself to remember the last conversation we had around this subject.
I am being paranoid again. He has already left her! I understand he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, he wants to support her where he can. I am lucky to have found such a considerate man who puts his own needs last and cares so much about his family. Why am I always so mistrusting? Why am I so selfish? Why can’t I be patient and understanding?
We kiss goodbye and arrange to speak after the weekend.
“I will miss you so much,” I say.
“Come on, it’s only two days. I think you will survive,” he replies.
I close the door and crawl into my bed and start sobbing. I miss the days we had at the start. The days where he would move heaven and earth to spend any second with me. When I felt I couldn’t do anything wrong and I was the most amazing woman in the world. The days when he would go out of his way to prove how much he loved me and that I was his soulmate. The days where we laughed so much that it hurt. The days when doubt was just a gut feeling that could easily be brushed aside by his confirmations.
And then I force myself to remember the conversations we had whenever I would bring it up. I am being crazy again. Relationships fade over time. It is just a very tough situation for both of us. He has already given up so much to be with me. He loves me and not her. Why am I so mistrusting? Why can’t I control my mood swings and outbursts? Why am I always so emotional? I hate myself.
“With emotional abuse, the insults, insinuations, criticism, and accusations slowly eat away at the victim’s self-esteem until he or she is incapable of judging a situation realistically. He or she may begin to believe that there is something wrong with them or even fear they are losing their mind. They have become so beaten down emotionally that they blame themselves for the abuse.” ― Beverly Engel, The Emotionally Abusive Relationship: How to Stop Being Abused and How to Stop Abusing