Devaluation
“PRINCE CHARMING
I became accustomed to the cruelty and the raging storms
The silent glare followed by the teasing eyes
The sweet nothings and the callous words
Bruising the soul and battering the mind-
Carefully evaluating how far I could go.
I recoiled in
The hard grip of his hands
delicately tying my stomach into knots
Like a tailor making me a dress that would beautifully hug my thighs
And squeeze my throat at the same time.
I crawled into the chambers of my own heart and made a cage
Fenced myself in
Scribbled a message on the edges of the walls
Stop here and never again.
Only to sleep beneath the clouds at night
Wake up to the thunder and taste the rain
On his lips.”
Then came the first blow. Within days his mask slipped and I caught a glimpse of the hell that was to come, the sharp, unkind retort blindsided me. He had a momentary lapse in concentration and forgot which false-self was mine. His quick recovery allowed me to rationalise and excuse the behaviour. Perhaps he had had too much to drink, or maybe I antagonised him? This fleeting event was pushed to the back of my mind as I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Until I witnessed the treatment of his ex-wife. I was appalled by how cruel and callously he spoke to her and challenged him on this. He assured me that he couldn't and wouldn't ever speak to me like that because I was different and ‘perfect.' It felt as though he meant it, while I was standing on the pedestal he had gently lifted me upon. I internally vowed to finish the relationship if I was ever spoken to like that - this was when my boundaries were still in place, along with my self-respect and self-confidence.
Within a year, his outbursts were becoming more frequent. I believed that I was responsible when he was upset and tried to placate him and make things right, out of fear of him leaving me. Nothing I did was good enough, try as I might to improve myself, I still couldn’t keep him happy. It had been very subtle, so subtle that I didn’t notice it happening but he had masterfully gained my trust and had me hooked, emotionally dependent on him.
Two or so years in, the same silver tongue that first spoke fondly about the qualities he loved in me, started to turn those same characteristics into flaws. He slowly convinced me that I was lucky to have him, used covert threats, mind games and vile insults. He discovered my every insecurity and weakness and started to pick at them and used them to keep me in check.
Then there were the other women, or my new form of torture. I was demeaned, belittled, humiliated, insulted, while he enjoyed praising, complimenting and fawning over them in my presence. All the time creating a new narrative for me and the outside world to believe that the problem was mine. That I was jealous, paranoid, insecure and over-sensitive.
That became my new reality for many years, the conditioning worked as it was designed to, he eroded my identity, memory and created a new version of events that I dutifully accepted.
The blame for everything became mine, his flaws were projected on to me and became my flaws. I was gradually turned into a drug addict, craving the next hit of dopamine, waiting for tiny crumbs of his affection, validation or praise. Desperately trying to be a better version of myself, emotionally and physically as I believed he might reward me with the affection, gentleness and safety of the early days. There were glimpses of this, strategically placed and random, this is known as the ‘law of diminishing returns’. It is what hooks gamblers to slot machines, the unpredictable rewards create a higher level of dopamine, as the victim never knows when to expect the pay-out. And when it does come, it makes you yearn for more, like crack cocaine.
Sadly, I was not alone in my torture chamber. Our children were subject to the anger outbursts, the irritability and lack of patience. They too walked on eggshells and watched from the side-lines while their mum’s wounds were being picked and prodded at and her heart was piece by piece devoured by our monster. They had to endure the unpredictability of daily life. The tumultuous nature of their parent’s marriage and the unbalanced and unhealthy powerplay.
They knew their mother sobbed when they went to bed, that she was vulnerable and alone with him in the evenings. That their dad would shout, seethe, spray spit in her face with rage and man-handle her. They often had to put their mum to bed because when their dad stormed out to the pub until the early hours, she used the only remedy she had available to her - alcohol.
The older children will have heard when she was 7 months pregnant, their father remorselessly picking her up and carrying her outside on to the front porch and locking the door behind her. Because he simply didn’t like what she had to say. What they won’t have known was that that night she sought solace in the church across the road and sobbed for an eternity, hoping that god would spare her from this purgatory. They also won’t have known that when the emotional pain got so great, she put her arm against the element in the cooker. Just to feel, to hear the flesh sizzle and try to reverse the numbness.
They were so relieved the night that their mother bundled them in a car in their pyjamas and sought safety in the local Travelodge. They couldn’t bear hearing any more screaming and smashing and every one of them pleaded with her not to return or take them back to the torture chamber. This was the start of their imploring their mother to leave him, the abuser, torturer, predator that was their father. Which lasted for almost 20 years.
His parenting style relied heavily upon humiliation, degrading, sarcasm and at times some heavy-handedness or rough handling. The children were frightened of him but also loved the fun jovial, relaxed man that he could be. Their very own Mr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
His step-daughter, my eldest daughter, bore the brunt of his callousness. The one day a year she and I knew she would be given a reprieve was her birthday. His guilt of not living with his own daughter of the same age fuelled the contempt that he showed her during her formative years. At the age of 5 she developed a stutter, so severe that she was often unable to speak. Undoubtedly due to him. When she did finally speak out about how unhappy she was to a trusted adult, they betrayed her and relayed the information back to her abuser, who unleashed a tirade so extreme that she never spoke out about him again and hasn’t to this day.
If I dared to challenge his treatment of her, I too received the same, and worse. I was man-handled, leaving bruises that required explanations and emotional and psychological wounds that were invisible to anyone but me. I wanted to leave, to free her and my other my children of this nightmare but I was like a frog in boiling water, I didn’t see my impending death until it was too late. The unmistakable hall-mark addiction of a narcissist’s victim had been created and was firmly established. The trauma bond.
Idas - Independent Domestic Abuse Services in Yorkshire - defines trauma bonds as:
‘
Created when a victim feels threatened, or when they feel that their life is in danger. Their need to survive means the victim shows gratitude towards any kindness, which in turn overrides the feelings of fear of the abuser. The abuser creates dependency by using intimidation or threats of violence and insults, ensuring the victim loses all sense of self-worth and is grateful for any small act of kindness.
Even if a victim discloses their abuse, the trauma bond means that the victim may feel they need to receive comfort and aid from the person that abused them and so the cycle continues.
For a trauma bond to develop, the victim must receive harsh negative physical, sexual or emotional treatment intertwined with small acts of kindness and must believe that there is real danger to themselves or others they care for. The abuser will ultimately strip the resources from the victim leaving them to feel isolated and that they have no other choices but this situation.
The symptoms of trauma bonds are that of feeling sorry for the abuser and making excuses for their behaviour, often blaming themselves. They have negative feelings for anyone who tries to protect or help them and feel discouraged in trying to release the grasps the abuser has on them.
When people see victims wanting to be with, or return to, the abuser or even defend them, they find it hard to have empathy for the victim, often blaming them thus pushing them further into the grips of the abuser. However, when we are faced with threat and fear we do not react from the logical part of our brain but from the part of our brain that is responsible for survival. Where individuals are abused over a period of time their survival brain is triggered making them freeze at the time of the abuse and go through the motions in order to survive. This becomes an automatic response.’ - Idas, 2023
“Abusers can deliberately harm you just to seemingly come to your rescue. They act as both the predator and the hero because it causes their victims to become dependent on them after horrific incidents of cruelty. Intermittent reinforcement is used to strengthen the trauma bond – a bond created by the intense emotional experience of the victim fighting for survival and seeking validation from the abuser.”
A narcissist’s modus operandi typically follows a pattern, Love-bombing, devaluation and finally, discard - the best saved till last. This is probably the most cruel and callous tactic employed by a narcissist. Please see my next blog for how I was discarded in the most painful way.
For more photos and videos of my healing journey to Bali, please see my Instagram and Tiktok pages - links below.
Credits -
Carnes, P. (2015). Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships. Health Communications, Incorporated.
IDAS. (2023) idas.org.uk
Shahida Arabi (2016), She who destroys the light