Discarded
After the showdown with Mr. Charm, there was a three month hiatus of us not speaking to each other. We had absolutely no contact. Although discards like this were a normal occurrence, something about this discard felt different from the rest. In the past, I would normally feel pangs of longing and hurt, but this time around I felt nothing but anger and heavy exhaustion.
Time with Mr. Charm had been draining for me. I had helped him at least two to three times a week for weeks nonstop since I found out about his stroke condition. Although I did not mind helping him and being a friend to him, I was drained and often discouraged by his behavior towards me during our times together.
He was not an easy person to deal with when it came to his moods, but at the same time, he did not even always exhibit moodiness. I just frequently walked on eggshells around him, and I never knew when I would experience the side of him that was not fun. I felt hollowness within this so-called friendship. There was no depth. Looking back, I do not know what I thought was so great about being friends with him. He did not even know me.
For all it was worth, I was just narcissistic supply for Mr. Charm and nothing else. He never talked to me to get to know me. He only talked about himself. Everything was about him, his life, and his goals. He cared very little about what was going on in my life. If I ever raised the slightest complaint that I needed some time for myself for whatever reason, he would either always mention his lady friend as a way to triangulate me with her or he would pout about how I was not there for him even though that was far from the truth.
I freely gave of my time to Mr. Charm, and I believed I had done so without much regret. Yet, during the three months apart from him, I took time to reflect. I was running myself ragged, and he did not even care. I had been burning the candle at both ends. I had a full time job, and I was in graduate school full time as well. I was exhausted, and being free of him helped me to realize that. I was on the verge of self-conclusion.
If it were not for the antidepressant I was taking and the fact that I felt that I was in a state of dissociation most of the time, I do not think I would have survived during that time. I actually do not know how I survived during that time. I lived to sleep on the weekends, and I often felt that Mr. Charm lived to take that time away from me. Of course, I did survive those times mostly because I journaled heavily and prayed for insight. Although there were other narcissists in my life, Mr. Charm occupied a lot of my time – more time than he ever deserved of me, in fact.
Three months into our no-contact, I thought we were done. I considered us done. I was ready to move on, and I had begun to move on. I was not expecting to actually ever hear from him, and when I did, it came as rather a surprise. I was in the middle of a much needed self-care routine when he called me. His name popped up on my phone. It was a hoover. I debated about answering. I felt a twinge of anger arise. What could he possibly be calling me about? Instead of keeping no-contact, I answered the phone. I was hoping things would be different.
I do not even remember the conversation in detail. I just remember not having any energy. I did not really want to talk. So I listened instead and when he asked me questions, I was very short with responses. He talked as if nothing ever happened and had mentioned calling me before but getting no answer. As he talked, I searched for some semblance of sorrow in his tone and responses. I heard nothing. He behaved as if we had not had a hiatus of three months away from each other. It was strange.
Suddenly, I became annoyed and found a reason to end the phone call. I could hear a weirdness in his tone. I was not in the mood to talk or to even really listen to what he had to say. I was exhausted and just wanted to relax. He had crept into the time I needed for myself, and I just wanted to get back to it. When we got off the phone, I cried. I do not even know where the tears came from, but I just allowed myself to cry and cry. I was deeply angry. I was hurt. I just wanted to be free. This three month hiatus made me realize this fact. I needed to be free of him.
This was the final discard because I needed to close the door. Find out in the next post how this all happened.
My Voice Unchained 