Welcome. This is the journal of my journey as I try to understand and (eventually) elude my wife (W). She has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) and I am the victim of her abuse. The links on the left will explain why I call myself desolate and the story so far. Please refer to the Acronyms Used page for quick help with acronyms.
My journal starts in September 2017. The best way to follow progress is by reading these posts, oldest first. This link will list all posts, oldest first. If need be, you can email me too.
Everyday, I’m appalled by the things that W defies doing, just because she has never had to do them or because I do it better or simply saying that she “can’t“. Some quick research shows that people with Narcissistic Personality Disorder are indeed unwilling to do chores because they think it is below them to do menial tasks. Some Narcissists have high standards of cleanliness and fiercely impose them on others. W does have high standards, but only for the people around her. The Slave Spouse (me) is supposed to clean up after her every single day, multiple times.
Writing this post has been somewhat uncomfortable. I’ve been hesitant whether or not to share some of these details, even if I am writing these anonymously. As a guy, it has not been easy admitting to doing some of these. Please pardon the vagueness in some parts.
Continue reading “The Slothful Slob”
That didn’t happen.
And if it did, it wasn’t that bad.
And if it was, that’s not a big deal.
And if it is, that’s not my fault.
And if it was, I didn’t mean it.
And if I did
You deserved it.
And if you deserved it, then I am the victim.
And if I am the victim, you owe me an apology.
From this post on Reddit. I can’t seem to find the original source.
This resonates so much with my experience with W. This is how W claims “closure” in every single episode.
Living with W is less of a challenge now than it was a few years ago. This is largely because of me willingly giving up boundaries in order to affirm love and prove my unconditional surrender to her. By habit, she has now started to take these things for granted. Through researching NPD and reading stories about abuse, I am starting to realize how many of these boundaries I have given up and forgotten about, so much so that this new altered behavior is now my new disposition. I’ve often read about personal boundaries being crossed, but seldom read about what that specifically entails. Here is what it means, in my case. Continue reading “Forgotten Boundaries”
W has uttered some of the most unimaginable threats to the simplest of problems. These ‘problems’ are usually situations or conversations that make her angry. They range from me not understanding something she said one time, to a toddler crying in the same room as her. These threats, no matter how shallow, are intimidating and instantly make me concede. Having spent the last 2 months 24/7 with W, this list has been growing uncontrollably. Here is a running list of some of these threats that I can recollect.
Continue reading “Threats”
It’s been almost 2 months into 2018 and I haven’t been able to post. It has been a year of a lot of changes and anxiety so far. I’ve barely been able to keep myself together and think straight. A series of episodes, countless sleepless nights, almost 5 kg. of weight loss, been surviving on painkillers and endless amounts of wrath from W. This year just doesn’t seem to show any mercy so far. Continue reading “2018 Update”
This year for me represents a period of great insight and mental clarity. It signifies my break-through, my ‘Aha!’ moment. It’s the year that I went from severe depression to irrepressible joy. The year of an austere paradox – where I spent every minute of my living day laboring for love, serving DS and my pregnant wife with practically every mental and physical need. As night falls and when they’re both asleep, I plot my escape, no matter how sleepy and debilitated I might be – researching NPD, journaling, and organizing evidence against W. Continue reading “Thank You, 2017”
I have always strived to understand my predicament, but in vain. Even if I would want to talk to someone about this, I wouldn’t know how to explain it – both, W’s behavior as well as my helplessness. Gradually over the last 10 years, my understanding of W has evolved; I’ve changed labels dozens of times. Should I just come to terms with being labeled as ‘Henpecked’, should I call her a ‘Psychopath’, maybe we as a couple are just ‘Different’ – there was this continuous dialogue in my head. Continue reading “My Metamorphosing Mind”