Alibi_10's Story

The Man Who Never Was

I have been a member of this forum for a long time. Narc 1 (the Psychodwarf) is a dim and distant memory, and the less on I learned was that I did not learn the lessons taught by others on here well or quickly enough and did not properly break contact until I learned the lesson. Narc 2 is the man who never was. I will call him The Monitor. Because of him, I found myself back here again, but this time I want to get it right. And all this showed me is that my radar was not so good. Psychodwarf was a screaming banshee at times, raging and throwing things around. The Monitor never did, but the whole experience has left me far more scarred, and far more scared as to how insidiously the whole abuse cycle happened. I need to get this out once and for all, however painful. I came to Narc 1 after years in the wilderness when my ex husband (not a Narc) left me just six weeks after I had majorly surgery, and three weeks after my Dad died. A very painful time, but he left me for an OW and at least I understood that. I had one relationship after that with a much younger guy, but it didn't work out, although he is still a friend. Narc 1 is history. The Monitor is a nightmare.

We met online. Bad start. I had given up actively looking, but I received a message from The Monitor, and thought he had a nice smile, wrote very well, highly educated, interested in similar things. After an exchange of emails we met. We had discussed things that we used to play on the piano when we were in our teens, and he turned up carrying the sheet music from my favourite. He looked very attentive all evening, charming, we went for dinner, and discovered that our respective hobbies meant that we knew lots of people in common. He seemed perfect. At the end of the evening, he asked to see me again and we went to a concert, where once again he was utterly charming, helped me off with my coat etc etc. I could not believe how lovely he was. I was hoping we would go out again, but at the end of the evening, he asked if he could give me a lift home. I said I had made arrangements, but he insisted on taking me home, and (not proud of this), he stayed the night.

From that moment, it was a complete whirlwind. By the end of week two, he declared he was in love with me. By two months later, he was asking if I would move in with him. His history was that he had married someone he described as an utter control freak who was frigid, and he was amazed they had had a child (twenty by the time I met him). He left his wife for a much younger woman when the daughter was eleven. I never did get to the bottom oh why that relationship didn't work out, but he then had a huge string of girlfriends (and remained friends with ALL of them!!!). He told me he had had a bullying father who was terrible with money and had affairs. But he also told me that he had met the woman he had been waiting for ....me. What a bloody idiot I was. Something told me that it was all going too fast, but I was SURE. He seemed perfect, and I just seemed to come to life. The red flag I missed with the ex wife was that he said he had kept a log of all the times they had sex and kept it in his sock drawer! She had found it and blown her top. Hello? How did I not think this was odd behaviour. I just thought ...he would need a library full for us, as we had sex all the time. How stupid. How bloody stupid I was.

During the idealisation phase, he met my family and friends who all loved him. He would cuddle me constantly, tell me I should never doubt him, he would never let me down, he did not want to be apart from me at all. He complimented me, appreciated me and we had some wonderful days and nights. We had sex several times a day (something that continued until ten minutes before he discarded me).

So ... From the end of September till the end April it was like a dream, with the exception of his daughter. She did not want me to move in, although she did not live at his house, she had a room there and vented her vile temper on her Dad time and time again. I suggested I just stay in my own house, but he said she had to learn that she was not top dog. On most other matters, he always gave in to her. It was embarrassing to watch. She would rave about the food he ate, the speed he ate etc etc and caused an atmosphere whenever she was in the room. He became like a small child around her, but was adamant about my moving in as she was studying away from home, and hardly ever there anyway. I tried to engage her, but she blanked me completely.

Aside from her, things were wonderful .... Although if I am honest, there were two occasions when I saw a slightly different person. On one occasion, I was held up at work, and texted and left a voicemail to say I would be about fifteen minutes late. In the event, I was only ten minutes late, but I was met at the bar with a very hostile, frosty reception. I apologised again .... Stony silence. Eventually he ventured that his ex wife had tried to control him by being late. I was very confused, but said that I had told him I would be late, and I wouldn't try to control him at all, least of all by being late. He eventually defrosted and things got back on track. The second occasion was on Christmas Day, which we spent with my family and he seemed to be in a huge sulk, though I could not work out why. I think he didn't like spending time with my Mum who is elderly and frail, but also very amusing. He treated his own Mum with disdain and impatience, but the situation with my family that day was only a glimpse.

The next few months were spent renting my house out, and disposing of all my possessions. We didn't need two of everything ....so he said. I donated things, threw other things away with gay abandon. I had realised that he was constantly planning and making lists, but thought this was a good thing as he saw the house move as a project. What I failed to see was that I was the project. I do plan and organise, but not to that extent, which seemed to frustrate him a bit. I was moving about forty miles away, but was adamant that I did not want to cut the ties with the groups of friends and the societies I belonged too. He was happy with that, so in I moved. The first night, he bought me flowers and a card to welcome me to my new life. He told me to make myself at home, that it was my house as well as his etc etc. We had agreed to share the bills, which was fine, but after a couple of days, he suggested I pay rent. I just asked him to let me know what it would be, and transferred money into his account monthly. I had already told him not to be with me for my money, although I have a decent responsible job, I had been screwed over when the ex husband had left me, and three good money after bad with the younger man who had no money at all ... But I have enough. He said not to worry, because he earned loads and that wasn't an issue. I said I would always pay my way, and never asked him for anything.

The next bit is hard. I do not know how or when or why this happened, but I gradually came to realise in the months that followed that I was losing myself. With the Psychodwarf, his rages were all consuming, so I never even knew what I was dealing with. But it went something like this:

Despite him telling me to make myself at home, if I tried he would criticise me. At first it was a joke. He actually sat me down, and asked if he could talk about domestics. He suggested that I had missed something earlier in my life because I did. To do things properly. Then came the handy written lists of crimes and rules :

I used too much washing up liquid .... He had been monitoring it, so he knew

I didn't turn the washing up bowl to the left when I had finished

When using the dishwasher I didn't load it right. I didn't empty it right

I had the water in the shower too hot

I didn't wash his clothes the way he liked, so he put a laundry for dummies chart on the wall next to the washing machine

I didn't use the right pegs

I didn't close the blinds the way he liked them (he would always tweak them a bit more)

He thought the ratio of my knickers to socks was 'out of kilter' (mainly because I have socks for work and often left my own in my locker)

I didn't use the clothes props properly

I didn't shake the table cloth in the right place in the yard.

And so it went on and on. I couldn't listen to the music I liked, I couldn't watch the TV unless it was something he liked. We never went to the cinema, something I have always loved, because other people annoyed him. He even altered the picture on my TV because he didn't like the widescreen format, he said people looked too fat!
But I loved him, so surely I could cope with the odd quirk.

I realised that he didn't have many friends at all. In fact, I detected that some of the people in the societies he was in would wince when he bowled up to them, as large as life. He played musical instruments in a few societies, and he would criticise everyone. Nobody was as good, or as dedicated as he was. But I loved him, so surely I could cope with the odd quirk.

Then my friends became an issue. He criticised the ones who had dogs, because he thought all dog owners were stupid. I have several female friends who are successful, attractive and independent. He found fault with them, too. I began to see him as very chauvinistic, he started to call me 'dear' which really bugged me .... But I loved him, so surely I could cope with the odd quirk.

When my friends and family rang the house, he wouldn't say anything, just look disapproving and crash around in the background so I couldn't hear them. I began to modify my behaviour and try to get them to call when he was out, or run up my mobile phone bill by ringing them before I left work. On one occasion, my Mum phoned in tears because her friend had died, and he was highly irritated as we were setting the table for a meal. I did think then there was a lack of empathy there ... But I loved him, so surely I could cope with the odd quirk.

Not long after I moved in, I was offered the job of a lifetime in Switzerland. I had applied for it before I met him, and didn't get it, but out of the blue they called to ask if I was still interested as another post had come up. I talked to him about it, and he said it was a shame as we were going to be together forever and he didn't want to be long distance. Needless to say I turned it down. Idiot. In fact, by moving in with him, my professional life was getting harder as I had a much longer journey, and worked long and irregular hours. When I first moved in, he found my work interesting, but it definitely did not fit I. With the 1950s housewife that he wanted.

He then started to criticise my appearance. Did not like my haircut, then the colour. Why did I wear boots such a lot? Why did I not wear skirts more? Did I want him to come shopping with me and choose some clothes? I wouldn't mind, but at fifty he dressed like an old man with tweed jackets and a perfectly ironed hanky every day. And he was quite overweight, but I had found him attractive anyway, I loved him! I put on a bit of weight because I couldn't go running or to the gym as often because my journey to work was much longer, but he started to comment on that, and leer at other women which I hated. Around this time, he started to talk about all his other girlfriends and how they had been destroyed by him, but still remained friends afterwards. He began to become distant, and became attached to his phone, despite having sneered at me for texting friends (though not in company so as to be rude). We continued to have lots of sex, but I noticed it was only me saying I love you. He stopped replying to messages. He started to come home later. He asked if I would do more cooking, so I then got very anxious trying to source the things he liked. Vegetarian, local produce, no air miles, which wasn't easy with so little time. He would be late so the food would burn. The next night I wouldn't start making it, so he was early and it wasn't ready.

He started to be offhand with my family, but I kept saying things were fine because I didn't want it to go wrong. If only I could get things right, why was I so stupid that I couldn't make him happy? Every time I tried, there was another thing wrong. I spent all day in the garden, but every time I went inside he was on Facebook, then said how unsexy I looked in Wellies.

We went off to a remote cottage for a holiday, and he was the same there. Rearranging everything that I had unpacked. He asked me why I didn't plan one of the days, but when I did, he picked fault with it and was silent for hours. Eventually, I asked him if we could talk. I explained that I was getting very anxious about him being so unhappy, and that I didn't like mind games or silent treatment. He stood up and looked at me in a very frightening sneering way and just said that he wouldn't talk to me because I had assaulted him!!! That night, I just wanted to run away. I have never felt so lonely. I had kept telling people how great things were because I didn't want to be disloyal.

I carried on, taking him away on a birthday trip with lots of surprises, hand made personal things, special restaurant serving vegetarian, organic local produce. I spent hours researching it all ... But he barely spoke to me all weekend.

The devaluing phase was like a slow, painful death. As I am writing this, I still think ... Well was he so bad? He didn't hit me. He rarely raised his voice, but by the time of the holiday, I was on eggshells constantly. It makes me sick to even think about it. Day by day, he withdrew a bit more, and I believed more and more that I was useless, fat, ugly, stupid, too poor, too clingy. But it would be alright because I had just rented my house out long term ... It had to be alright.

The end was swift. He went to see his daughter who was studying abroad. It was her twenty first birthday. I was not invited, but sent a silver necklace that I had had made . It was never opened. I had gone to stay with a friend in Switzerland. I barely heard from him. En route home, I texted him to see if he was okay, and got one word back. BUSY. He did pick me up from the airport, and was fine on the way home, telling me about all the important people he had met in the last few days. He did not ask about my trip, or explain why he had not bothered to contact me. He was excited that he had been on a TV interview with work and was full of that. In the morning, we woke up, had sex, he went in the shower, came out and told me it was no longer working for him as I was not a long term viable proposition.

I was utterly distraught as I had rented my house out, and had nowhere to go. He just said he had to go to work, and went. I left and went to a friend's house. That night, he didn't even know or care where I was. When he made contact, he was furious that I had left in such a chaotic way, he said it could have been managed in an orderly fashion. The next few weeks, until I got my stuff back, he was icy cold and callous. I was frightened and past myself with worry, and although I never asked him to reconsider, I did cry. His response was to ask if I knew how unattractive I sounded. Awful.

I have since found a place to rent myself, and have been no contact for four months, I have blocked his number and blocked him and his toxic offspring from Facebook. He does not know or care where I am. He sends random bits of post and items to my sister ... One slipper, an empty file ... But there is never any note, not that I would respond. It is just an observation. I was a project that ended up being put in the shredder. I know people say they always come back, but I don't think he will. He really is that callous. He dumped me with all my stuff at a storage lock up, drove off and just carried on regardless of the fact that I had no home, no furniture, not even a cup or spoon.

I needed to get this out. Sorry it is so long. I have learned my lesson here that contact is pain. I can do the no contact thing, but I do still have nightmares and have sad days. But at least I am beginning to discover that I am ok on my own, I can do what I like. My TV picture is widescreen, I can use the whole freaking bottle of washing up liquid, go to bed when I like, go running, eat what I like when I like, and I don't have to answer to anyone.

And whilst I miss the man that was charming, kind, generous, loving, affectionate and caring .... He actually is the man who never was. He was not there at all.