The narc in public

I`ve been thinking a bit lately about how Wottaprick used to treat me in public and wondering if anyone else has experienced this.
When he was still idealizing me, he took me to visit all his friends in about the first few six weeks, flaunting me much like Krishna did his peacock feather (like "see what I caught".).

But very soon after, I increasingly had the feeling that he resented having to be "attached" to me when we went anyway together. I could feel him sitting next to me, straining inwardly to be sitting next to or talking to anyone BUT me, resenting me and punishing me by not looking at me, or speaking two words to me, or giving any outward sign he even knew me.

I never felt like part of a couple any more when we went anywhere. He didn`t go off or socialize, he would stay right next to me, but the way he treated me (or rather didn`t treat me) was worse than being ignored. It was as if he were so furious with me for even existing that he was putting ALL his energy into demonstrating to everyone that I didn`t exist. It was far worse than being ignored, it felt like being negated.

This culminated in January 2011 in an evening where we were invited to two parties, one after the other. Exactly a year before, we had also gone to both parties, while he was still in the idealization phase. All evening we had danced, laughed, talked, kissed, held hands. I had never been so happy in my life. At the second party there was a tombola and I won first prize, a holiday in Italy for two (which I went on with him and which was a complete nightmare), which seemed like a sign that my luck had changed for the better. I had never won anything before.

All year I tried to talk him into going dancing with me again, and he just wouldn`t. So I was really looking forward to the parties this year, because I wanted to dance with him again.

Shortly before we were due to leave, he caused an argument and threatened not to go. In the car on the way he threatened to turn around and go home again. He marched into the first party leaving me miles behind, crossed the room at the speed of light and immediately immersed himself in conversation with a work colleague (both parties were his friends, I didn`t know anyone there). He ignored me the whole evening.`

On the way to the second party, I tried to tell him how much being ignored all evening had hurt me. He immediately started yelling and screaming, stopped the car so abruptly I really hurt my neck and commanded me to get out. I did. I sat on a wall for about five minutes, then he came and talked me into getting back into the car. We went to the second party.

At the second party I didn`t see him once. I could hear his inane laugh all over the place, but I was so sunk in pain and sadness, I just huddled into myself at a table on my own like a sick fledgeling. At the first party, I´d tried to enjoy myself and communicate with people, even though I was hurting badly. But at the second, I just couldn`t. Every time I heard that stupid laugh of his, it went through me like a knife.

And then I began to feel angry, or rather, some kind of idea began to seep through the pain than I was sick and tired of being a victim, that I refused to be a victim any more. So I got up and went over to where he was talking and flirting with an attractive blonde woman. I went right up to him as a man would and roared, "Hey Rambo, you old SOB, where you been, buddy, haven`t seen you for years" and then I playfully slapped him a couple of times on the cheeks (NOT hard - just the way a certain kind of man does to his buddies, right hand, left cheek, left hand, right cheek - some men even PINCH each other`s cheeks).

Wottaprick was slack-jawed with astonishment and so was his lady friend. She recovered first, and stammered, "er, that`s not Rambo, that`s Wottaprick". "Rubbish" I said. "I`d know my old buddy Rambo anywhere, and that`s Rambo. Wottaprick" I fixed him with an icy glare "doesn`t exist".

I have no memory at all what happened afterwards, and I hadn`t drunk enough to warrant a blackout. Three times with him I blacked out out of sheer pain, I think. He tells me they threw us out for making a scene. I think he makes my part of the scene worse than it was, but I just don`t remember.

Between January and April when I left him, he didn`t go anywhere with me.

I never behaved this way, before or after him.
I never blacked out before or after him.
I didn`t in any way plan what I did, I had no idea at all what I was going to do before I did it. This was the effect he had on me. But somehow I don`t feel bad about it. He looked so gobsmacked, I wanted to laugh. And I think it scared the shit out of him.

I`m sorry this is so long. I think this is what is meant by "getting it out". In his back-handed, sneaky, passive-aggressive way, he`s started hoovering again. I am still NC and will defend it with my life. But it`s shaking a lot of shit loose, and I haven`t told anyone this before.
Have a nice, quiet, NC narc-free nite, ladies!
Love to all fellow sufferers
Tigerlily