Surviving Narcissism Exploring life after marriage to a narcissist. Learning and thriving by sharing our story. – Jesse Blayne

He was walking and pacing, too agitated to sit still and get involved in the conversation.  Every once in awhile, he’d check on the kids to make sure they weren’t getting out of hand.  He’d try to sit down and join in, but he’d last for about 5 minutes, before getting up and walking to the other end of the house.

She was sitting at the table, eyes blank, pressing the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt at stopping a nagging headache.  Occasionally she glanced in his direction to see if he’d found a place to settle in.  I could tell that his pacing was making her headache worse.  She was stopping herself from asking him to, “Please.  Please just sit down.”   She wasn’t contributing to the conversation.  Either she didn’t have anything to say, her head was killing her, or she just wanted to be somewhere else.

And the other couple appeared to be similarly disconnected.  She was sitting, seemingly holding court, chattering endlessly as if by continuing to talk, she’d be able to let off the steam from all her nervous energy.  Her eyes would dart from one person to another, looking for some indication that what she was saying was mattering to someone.  She had this panicky look like she was afraid that she might run out of words, before finding the one thread that would connect her to someone in the room.

And her husband had stopped listening years ago.  He was going through the motions of tending to the children.  Watching the kids provided him with the escape he needed, so he wouldn’t have to sit and listen to his wife’s endless chatter.  His eyes appeared like they might not be focused.  He was on auto-pilot.  Check the youngest, keep her from putting that object in her mouth.  Find the oldest and remind him to share.  Back to the youngest to grab the offending object.  Back and forth.  And his wife didn’t seem to notice that he and the kids even existed.

And no one connected.  In fact, their restlessness made it impossible for them to connect.  And if asked, they wouldn’t be able to tell you the last time they had connected.  They might try to suggest that they connect with their kids.  Or they’d say that they try to connect with their spouse, but that their spouse isn’t trying to connect with them.

And the four of them continued to move in this sad dance of avoidance, thankful that there were others in the room to converse with, so they wouldn’t have to interact with their spouse.

The kids didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, because, for kids, this is normal.

and I wanted to say to them…

Stop!

Look at the person you married!

Remember when you thought he was the hottest thing to ever pull on a pair of Levis?  Remember when the sway of her hips made you forget your name?  Remember when you couldn’t look at each other without thinking you really were the only two people left on the planet?

Leave right now.  I’ll watch the kids.  Go home.

Forget all your obligations and chores and emails and phone calls and distractions.  Quit reading People Magazine on your Blackberry long enough to ask your husband about his day.  Quit arguing over paint chips and agree to paint the spare bedroom in the colors she likes.  You used to like the colors she picked.  You used to prefer his eyes over the stories in the magazine.

Pretty soon it will be time to give your kids the ‘talk’ and you’ll forget to mention that sex is about more than birds and bees and where babies came from.  You’ll forget to mention that the most important part of sex is that connection you have with this person you love – that connection that you have with only this person – the connection that you feel on a cellular level.

Show your kids that a ‘happy’ marriage isn’t about just raising kids, buying the boat, and going to bed after your spouse falls asleep so you don’t have to come up with yet another excuse for not being in the mood tonight.  Show your kids that a good marriage is about respecting your partner, touching them, making them a priority, and putting them first before the kids once in awhile.

Go home and fake it.  If you won’t notice his beer belly, he won’t notice your dimpled thighs.  That’s why dimmer switches were invented.  And when you get started, you won’t even notice how each others’ bodies have changed.  And if you fake it another night, and then another night, maybe by the fourth night you won’t be faking anymore.

You’ll remember how hot he is in his jeans.  You’ll remember how intoxicating her scent is.

Go home and just do it.

Connect to each other.  It’s those connections that brought you together.

Stop avoiding each other.

Stop wishing and start doing.