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

I spent some time on the sidelines.  I was too close to the game, and couldn’t see the action well.   I moved to the stands.  I can see the game better, and it’s a lot more comfy here, too.  It’s best that I’m further from the action.  They can’t hear me when I fail at keeping my mouth shut.  I’m sitting on one of those cushions with the attached back.  There’s no one sitting in front of me, so my feet are up.  I’ve got popcorn and an icy cold beer.

My kids are suiting up for another run at this ‘game’ at grandma’s.  Last night, Jenny slept with me again.  She’s dreading today and couldn’t get to sleep because she can’t quit thinking about how her dad just doesn’t see her.  This morning, Will said, “I am done with these visits.  I just feel beat down.”

I’m picturing my kids suited up for a football game.  We’ve only recently gotten into watching football.  There hasn’t been a dad around to spend Sundays watching the games, so we don’t really know how the game is played.  Will certainly knows more than Jen and I do.  But he still doesn’t understand penalties and downs and all that stuff.  They are begrudgingly putting on their shoulder pads and helmets.  After a few encouraging shouts from the stands, they will drag their butts up the hill to grandma’s house.

I tried the coaching bit for eleven years.  Perhaps I’d have done a better job if I’d known more how the game was played.  It seems the other team (Mark) keeps changing the rules.  Each time my kids were tackled, I’d rush out to the field, help them up and encourage them to get back in the game.  It took me quite awhile before I realized that Mark kept changing the rules.  I was encouraging the kids to play fair.  After each tackle, it became harder and harder to talk them into going back in for what they knew would be another hit.  I hoped they’d be able to play better as they got older.  At this point, they pretty much hate the game altogether.  They don’t even want to be near the stadium, let alone on the field.

Now, with my mom as coach, it’ll be interesting to see how the rest of the game plays.  Initially, Jen and Will were cautiously optimistic.  This new coach did a better job of getting them psyched before the game.  She was a lot more enthusiastic about the potential outcome.  She really believed we could win this thing, and her spunk was contagious.  The three of us were ready for a new coach because we were sick and tired and bruised from losing every stinkin’ game.

Mark has a new coach, too.  The counselor is his coach.  I’m wondering about the integrity of his coach a bit.  She told Mark that his kids cheat while playing board games.  Mark was stunned by her comment.  (At least he knows the kids well enough to know that has never been the case.)  It seems that when she saw Will look at Mark before moving his marker, she read that as cheating.  She assumed Will was waiting for Mark to look the other way so he could move his marker farther.   Both the kids look to Mark before they do anything, because they fear messing up.  Add to that the fact that she suggested it would be just fine for the kids to lie to grandma about whether they talk to me about visits. Last week, his coach told me that if Mark would quit with the baby voice, then we’d be on our way to a better relationship between Mark and the kids.  Eliminating the baby voice is not getting at the real issue.   I think Mark’s coach needs a bit more experience with narcissism.

The next ‘game’ will take place in the counselor’s office.  I won’t be in the stands for that game.  I’m prepared to be the doting fan and pamper them after that game.  I may have to call in a medic.

The truth is, even with the best coach in the world, if your opponent is bigger, meaner, stronger and has a lot more years of practice, cheats, lies and doesn’t worry about who gets hurt …

I think you can see that the odds are stacked against us.

I’m not going to be able to sit here much longer and watch my kids get sacked.

It’s time to try a new sport.