You might think I’m nuts for this. Especially considering where my head has been lately. These days you’ll most likely find me on the beach, gazing up at the sky all trance like; I used to think those people were weird. I’m in a good space, really feeling connected to everything around me and at peace with kind of giving up resistance to whatever divine design may have in store. So why did I pay a somewhat famous narcissist to analyze my former relationship in order to get a definitive answer about ‘The Eternal Victim‘? Was he or wasn’t he? Why did the label matter so much?
Because I couldn’t seem to put it to rest in my mind. I needed to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could trust myself. That when I said to my mom last November, “Something just does not feel right,” I wasn’t crazy. I had to know that the things he liked to say about me (you can’t let yourself be happy/you self sabotage/you don’t trust people) were just projection, from an unreliable narrator. I needed to know that no matter what I did to try to help him, I couldn’t. And I needed to know if he was aware of his actions, or if he was helplessly, unfixably, ignorant.
For $100, you will receive 40 questions. Within 96 hours of receipt of the answers, you will get a detailed audio file analyzing them. I would have paid ten times that for the peace of mind it provided. I feel 50 fucking pounds lighter. Would it be easy for someone to take your money and tell you what you want to hear? Duh. To that, all I can say is, it’s nuanced. The detail of the report eradicated ambiguity.
There was still a sliver of me (ego/compassion perhaps) that entertained the idea that he was ‘savable’. That with the right words and actions, executed at the precise time, in a specific environment…Now I can put that to rest. I can be thankful he came into my life when he did (in a very strange turn, he idealized me at the exact moment I needed it most). I can feel sorrow and pity for him without the anger. I can keep the good memories because he know’s not what he does. I can feel compassion and sadness for his plight without hoping to be his savior. I can never speak to/text/see/email/or message him again; knowing that is what’s best for me on my own journey of growth and self mastery. Thank fucking god.