My Right to be a Victim

Victim is a bad word today. Yet by telling me if someone hurts me to my core it is my own fault for allowing myself to be a victim, you are letting the victimizer off the hook. And blaming me, shaming me, judging me.

You have no clue what it's like unless you've been there, or are willing to LISTEN to someone who has.

I suffered because I couldn't talk about what happened without someone slapping me in the face. I'm not a whiner. I am trying to understand. For myself, so it doesn't happen again, although it has, to a lesser degree.

And for others in this predicament. The thing with narcissists is they create an alternate reality to feed their own crashing-down egos. They live in terror of being imperfect, and terrified people lash out to save themselves without regard for who they hurt.

It's not the self-love that is bad. It's the disdain for everyone else.

I didn't know anything about narcissistic personality disorder until my spouse was diagnosed by our marriage counselor. It was a slap in the face awakening, a cosmic 2 by 4.

Still, I handled it terribly and hurt myself.

But I refuse to accept all the blame.

I had a scumbag lawyer who lied and did not do his job and ultimately offered to respond to my spouse's divorce demands for an additional $2500.00. Something he neglected to do in the first place, which I only discovered after talking to another lawyer who told me I had one day to respond or all would be lost.

This Key West lawyer, who I'll tell anyone his name, only I don't want it in writing...hey, it's public record anyway and I fired him... not knowing you can't just fire a lawyer, you have to petition. After the train wreck he made of the case, I couldn't find another lawyer willing to take me on and wasted enormous amounts of money to be told I had no case.

This lawyer painted a castle in the air, told me all was well, then fucked up the case entirely.

I was my own lawyer for a while, very stressful. There is no help for you out there, though they lie and say there is. Maybe it's just Key West incompetence. No one I spoke to knew anything, nor were they willing to help.

I was tempted to through a brick through a bank window, just so I could be arrested and have a lawyer assigned to me.

Some day I'll go into details. It's pretty funny, really. I used to sing Les Miserable to myself in court, feeling very like Jean val Jean, persecuted for life because of a loaf of bread. Well, Javert died, good for him, and so did Michelle, but it wasn't my doing.

Except that I was no longer caring for her. She was right when she said I was the reason she'd outlived her predicted lifespan by 20 years. She died less than a year after she kicked me out of her life. I suppose she wanted to die by then, miserable creature that she was.

Her obituary received hateful comments. I've never seen such a thing. Most people who knew her hated her. I'm still running into people in Key West who tell me what a shit she was and have sympathy for me. She alienated the business community but that's another story.

So many stories. What a weird person. I stayed with her because I knew life with her would never be boring. And so it wasn't.

I'm trying to re-create a life now. I had no idea it would be so hard. I thought I'd be rolling in clover but I'm not. Unfinished business. Leftover pain and shame from being verbally and emotionally abused for so many years it seemed normal.

I'm tougher than that. At least I used to be. But being fearless has gotten me into trouble. So I fear now. I wake up in the morning to panic. I have mantras to cool me down. I have friends I'm afraid to call or see.

I'm forcing myself to get out among peeps. When I do, it's good. I'll never be a normal person, but I am a good person. Wow, it's bizarre to write that.

I am a good person.

Peace.