When A Personality Disorder Becomes Disordered – Love Bombs Are An Illusion – Part 22

Love Bombs Are An Illusion

After Mr. Charm treated me to a grand breakfast branded as an apology, he went back to being his original nice self for a while. His original self was the person who aimed to please and flatter with loads of what I perceived as kindness and jovial laughs. That was the original person that I enjoyed hanging around. I had gone past this stage in the cycle of our erratic friendship, however, and I just wanted to complete the repair job. This entire process had fatigued me n major ways, and although I appreciated all of Mr. Charm’s help throughout, the cost for his help was an expensive emotional blow.

Through it all, I had come to learn a lot about Mr. Charm. The number of apologies he had for were plenty. The number of excuses he had for his bad behavior were just as plenty too. The epiphany came for me when I realized I was involved in a dangerous cycle of narcissistic abuse. I also eventually came to see his love bombs as an illusion just to keep me bound to him. He was not ever nice to me for no reason. He did not want to be nice to me. He treated me with such contempt but would attempt to hide his glares with eyes of fake love for me. But as the repair project came to an end, so did my tolerance for his mistreatment of me. My eyes were opened, and I was breaking free. My voice was becoming unchained.

Mr. Charm gave me one good week in which he showered me with his fake smiles of kindness and pretended that we had comradery with each other as we worked on the finishing touches to the repair project. I waited for signs of his meaner personality to reappear, but that actually did not happen during that week. I waited to step upon crackled eggshells of narcissistic abuse tactics like the silent treatment, stonewalling, and gaslighting, but I discerned none of that. I actually found his “loving” behavior strange. It was a strange and eerie feeling to have his love bombs dropping all over the place for such an extended period without losing his cool with me. It became so that his love bombing felt very out of place to me because I had literally become accustomed to his verbal and psychological abuse against me.

To my surprise, our final week of goodness was all about teamwork. We actually accomplished more in that one week alone than we had during the entirety of the repair project. This project was supposed to last about six weeks, and it was by far the worst six weeks of the entire year for me. I wished that the comradery and togetherness I felt between us during that final week had been that way all along between us. I actually wondered, “Where was this guy before? How does he just the charm off and on as if I am not affected by this crazy behavior?” I found myself wanting to relax because I had hoped that the worst of him was over and gone. I wanted to relax in hope, but I felt his charm was all an illusion and a lot of bewitchery.

After all, he had apologized and seemed really sincere about it, but I had learned from experience to no longer let my guard down too soon with him. I regarded and acknowledged his apology, but for me actions speak louder than words. He had apologized for his behavior so many times before but still returned back to his narcissistic ways. It should have come as no surprise that he would bait me with love bombs. That is a part of the cycle of abuse. Yet, something was off about these love bombs. More than normal, these love bombs felt disingenuous as if they were cradled underneath pieces of imploding doom. Prior to my epiphany, I wanted to believe he would change, but my perspective was different now. I knew the truth. He was a love bombing liar.

Plus, I sensed that there was something coming on the horizon, and I was inwardly preparing myself. Instinctively, I knew the week of steadiness was coming to an end. I saw signs. There had been steady moments of Mr. Charm giving his all to be a supposed good friend to me. The last week of conversations were actually free of verbal insults and any issues with his rage, and that was what I had desired throughout this friendship among other things. Although that week was better than usual within his presence, there was still never any depth of conversation that I had always craved from him. Nor were there any moments of me feeling as if I could share the very elements of myself either. He just seemed to be overly attentive and extra nice.

Unfortunately, I had grown and settled to understand over time that a narcissist cares for none of those things that I care about. This narcissist did not care about me at all. He had not wanted to know me. He had only wanted to know me as much as I could fit into his agenda. The agenda was no conspiracy. It is just the way of a narcissist. If you know, you truly do know. Mr. Charm needed to fill himself of narcissistic supply, and that was all that I was worth to him. However, a tide had turned at some point during this repair project, and I felt that I was no longer worth anything to him at all. Intuitively, I recognized the signs of a coming discard from Mr. Charm against me, and I desired it.

Not Who One Thinks

Over time, I had come to realize that I was not who Mr. Charm thought me to be either. I was far too complicated as his narcissistic supply because I had gotten to know the depth of who he was as a person. Despite all his quirks and issues, I had stood by him anyway. I naively believed that is what friends were supposed to do. I had chosen to overlook a lot of things about just as I had believed he had done for me until he began consistently using my shortcomings as ammunition against me. I was not who he had hoped me to be mainly because I fought back, and I refused to be under his control.

The difference between Mr. Charm and I was the knowledge we had about each other. I knew he did not want to be seen for who he really was as a person, but I could see into him so deeply. I saw from behind the mask of which he hid himself. I knew him for who he was in totality. I listened to him in earnest. I heard what he did not say. I celebrated him. I celebrated his successes, and I felt just as disappointed as he had with his loses. I encouraged him in ways that made me his ultimate cheerleader. In many ways I embodied him. I put myself into his shoes. I tried to understand his life and life in general by looking through his eyes. When this happened, I found myself carrying his weight. I understood him well, and my knowledge of who he was baffled him.

Unlike Mr. Charm, I attempted to reveal myself to him without a mask. I was desperate to be seen and heard, but he would not see or hear me. He did not care to know me deeply. I mistook his emotions for me and his like of me as his wanting to know me, but he did not know anything about me except for the surface details. He seemed to celebrate me only to use my victories against me. He basked in pride at my disappointments. I carried my weight alone and could never turn to him for any help or consolation. His help always came with attached strings. He did not ever attempt to walk in my shoes, and he did not want to understand me. In fact, he only seemed to ever be pleased to simply criticize me and keep me at an emotional distance.

I knew Mr. Charm for who he was as a narcissist. In my ignorance, I accepted my place in his life anyway, and he accepted his prominent place in my life. My choosing to settle came at a high cost though, and I paid for it in constant feelings of anxiety and ever-increasing heartache. Yet, at some point during the increasing cycle of Mr. Charm’s narcissistic abuse against me, I had a reality check. I knew I needed to get out of this so-called sham of a friendship. This toxic friendship had gravitated towards an even darker side that lessened my feelings of safety, but there was a still small voice calling out to me from within. That still small voice beckoned me with a nudge that the change I was praying for had to begin with me.

It was near the end of this repair project that I had finally reached my own internal overflow in the form of an emotional eruption. An explosive eruption was waiting to break through from the depths of my inner being. During that final week, despite Mr. Charm’s love bombs, I had found myself growing apart from him. I realized that I no longer liked him, and I no longer liked myself when I was around him. I had also disassociated myself from my own emotions. It was better not to feel only when I could feel ongoing emotional pain. I had simply become a shell of myself – a shell that housed a person who was really no longer present. From years of training myself to not react outwardly, I did not realize that a release was on its way – a release that I would not be able to contain or stop from occurring …

… and that release ended the friendship.

Stay tuned for to find out how Mr. Charm became less of a Mister and more of a Jack.