What I Call the 5 C’s of Narcissism

How a woman met a man and discovered a narcissist.

I was newly married to the man of my dreams. Or was I? Within months I alternated between bliss and running for the door. No one spoke of narcissism back then. I was alone in the dark.

I maneuvered through a pattern of five distinct words as my husband’s true personality unfolded.

No one else knew this.

I kept my husband’s secret.

Like a good wife.

Despite being an incredibly smart and strong woman.

Love is confusing that way.

And narcissism disguises itself as love.

The disfigured descriptors of unhealthy and abusive often don’t find their home until after you have made one with the narcissist.

But no one knows.

Because despite a narcissist not living in reality, they exist quite well in it.

Cruelty

There was a shifting coldness within my husband. It was the precursor to cruelty, ironically another word beginning with the letter C. I would later discover one can’t really exist without the other.

At first, it was subtle, I thought he was aloof about certain things, laid back, or just didn’t care.

I didn’t detect how sinister it was.

Nor could I understand what provoked it.

At least not initially.

But it was unlike any argument, discord, or unpleasantness I had ever experienced.

It was unnatural.

And instinctively I knew something was terribly wrong.

But I disregarded it in favor of his more charming persona.

Ultimately, a critical lack of empathy would explain this abnormal and unidentifiable interaction. I had fallen for a man who was incapable of attachment nor of feeling my pain.

Control

I would say my husband was controlling and he was. But that wouldn’t sufficiently convey my experience with a narcissist.

He didn’t just control me, he made my life feel out of control.

Here’s where I’m going to insert another word beginning with the letter C.

Chaos.

My husband inflicted the type of control that turned my world upside down. Not slightly, but to the point of disarray. And it would remain as such until he manipulated the outcome he desired.

Only then would the chaos subside.

He was passive-aggressive. A covert narcissist. His control was not obvious to the naked eye. He presented as if he were jovial and easygoing. Not a care in the world.

This only compounded matters.

I had never witnessed this rigid, difficult man while dating. There were no hints of his controlling nature. I hadn’t heard of passive-aggressive or narcissistic behavior before.

Yet I had unknowingly attached myself to a man who would use, confuse, and manipulate to establish his win and control.

Confusion

Now I am young and in my twenties and entirely confused.

I have dated one man and made a vow with another.

The charming, seemingly carefree guy I married is capable of being cold and cruel. He will do anything to win the desired outcome he wishes and to stay in control, or I will pay a price.

A chaotic price.

Until his “world order” is restored and life operates as he sees fit.

I grapple with the unrelenting cycle that has become a part of my relationship. No, a part of my life. It’s encompassing and exhausting.

What I call the standard emotional operating procedure of the narcissist.

The endless joy was interrupted by bouts of crippling disruption.

I am confused not only by the man I have married.

But by the unpredictability he now represents.

Craziness

Until this point, I have never interacted outside of actual reality.

I believe I am having a conversation with a man, my husband, the love of my life.

I am unaware I am conversing with a narcissist.

This person in front of me is charming, funny, and successful. He is well-liked, and the life of the party, men befriend him, and women love him.

Certainly, this must mean he lives in reality.

But he does not.

He lives in a warped perception of it.

Because he cannot see outside his own world.

But I am in the dark, so I keep swiping toward the real world.

Instead, he turns my words around and directs them back at me.

He says I’m overreacting, needy, and unreasonable. He says I shouldn’t care, that he’s a busy man, that I need to take care of things myself, and I shouldn’t ask him for anything.

And he becomes angry. Who am I to put demands on him?

I begin to feel crazy.

Another word with the letter C interrupts my life.

Crazy is followed by crying.

I cry, and I cry, and I cry.

And then I cry some more.

I have married someone who will never be capable of meeting my needs.

Contradiction

It’s been a slow build but I now understand I am living with two wildly different people.

The illusion I dated.

The narcissist I married.

The one all-encompassing word that begins with the letter C, “Charming” has been permanently replaced by five others.

Cruelty, control, confusion, craziness, and contradiction.

As well as a few of their synonyms.

Coldness, chaos, and crying.

I now understand this isn’t a man nor is it love.

A smart, strong woman replaces a good wife.

Narcissism is no longer my secret to keep.