Every Narcissistic Abuse Victim Faces This Sacrifice

I left Dwayne, a malignant narcissist, in 2015. I escaped that relationship and never looked back because my life depended on it. But when I walked away from Dwayne, I left something important behind.

His brothers.

I haven’t talked about Dwayne’s brothers because they’re a point of contention because when I left Dwayne, I lost a family in the process.

Although many of us are isolated only to be surrounded by flying monkeys and enablers of our narcissists, not everyone we meet through our abusers fits that description — both of Dwayne’s brothers didn’t.

They were sweet, kind, funny, and treated me better than any other family member I’ve encountered in any of my relationships. Before and after.

Dwayne’s brothers became my brothers. Leaving them behind hurt me, but it made the transition from victim to survivor possible. But when the dust settled, I was forced to remember the two people I had to leave behind.

…

Introducing Jordan (16) and Daniel (14).

They were Dwayne’s younger brothers. I was extremely close to them, especially Jordan. I lived with Dwayne for most of our relationship.

Often, I got home from classes before Dwayne and spent those evenings bonding with his brothers. We spent numerous nights playing video games, watching movies, and talking with each other.

I developed separate relationships with Daniel and Jordan, but each connection was close to my heart and very special in its own way. And I miss them dearly.

One thing that made it easy for us to bond was we were all bullied by Dwayne. He picked on Daniel the most because he was the youngest and the smallest. We had that in common.

Plus, Daniel was a softer kid than he and Jordan. Dwayne would always use this to his advantage and tell Daniel how inferior he was to Dwayne. I made it a point to be gentle with Daniel.

He mattered to me.

Jordan and I bonded on a deeper level. We had more in common and more to relate to. He was a little older and in a serious relationship of his own.

Often, he came to me with updates and concerns. I was always there for him. I even confided in him about personal parts of my life. I was closer to him than I was to Daniel and Dwayne.

I hate how I ended our connection because we went through a lot together. We were confidants. Jordan was the person who found out that Dwayne was beating me up first.

“Who did this to you?”

The morning after the beating where Dwayne almost killed me, I was in the kitchen getting ice for my face when Jordan unexpectedly walked in. He started talking to me but stopped in his tracks when he noticed that I had

a black eye
a swollen face
and busted and black lips

I don’t remember what he said, but he came toward me and touched my face to turn it and get a better view of what his brother had done to it.

“Who did this to you?”

But when he asked, it wasn’t a question of who had done it. It was him wanting to know if I would tell him the truth. The look on my face answered his question.

“He did this to you?”

I admitted that it was Dwayne who had beat me up and that he had been beating me up for months. I told him the true nature of what our relationship was like and how much I was suffering.

Jordan was fuming and turned to storm out of the room when I grabbed him and begged him not to do anything. It took everything I had to convince Jordan not to approach Dwayne.

Not to protect Dwayne but because I knew what Dwayne would do to him. Dwayne would have hurt Jordan badly. And then he would have hurt (or maybe even killed) me.

I couldn’t risk him hurting Jordan when the entire reason Dwayne had beaten me so savagely the night before was partially because of Jordan.

12–14 Hrs Earlier

I remember Dwayne texting me not to let Jordan touch his alcohol (Dwayne had a big bottle of vodka stashed in his room).

I didn’t know why he told me this since Jordan wasn’t known for this (Dwayne had a drinking problem), but I agreed.

This same night, I would come home from class to find another woman’s shirt on the floor of Dwayne’s room. I also remember seeing the Vodka bottle left out in the open.

Later, when Jordan got home, I was having a breakdown over the shirt, and he was telling me, from his perspective, what he witnessed earlier that day while I was out. The shirt belonged to one of Dwayne’s exes.

Jordan said nothing happened while he was physically present, and I believed that. As I vented, Jordan started confiding in me about an issue he was having in his relationship.

I don’t remember what happened, but it had just happened, and I was the first one he was telling. At some point in our conversation, Jordan slipped a shot from Dwayne’s bottle.

I told him I wasn’t supposed to let him do that, but it was too late. Jordan apologized and promised not to take any more. I promised Jordan I would keep his secret.

Dwayne got home, and the beating started over me, questioning him about the shirt. He noticed some of the alcohol in the bottle was gone (which was crazy because Jordan took so little of it) and beat me even worse.

It was at this point in the fight when Dwayne slapped me so hard my body turned, and my face hit the wall near the window.

A rusty nail in the wall punctured my cheek and started an infection I would have to go to the doctor to get antibiotics for.

I never gave Jordan up. I would never admit that he did it on his own. I let Dwayne believe I gave it to him.

Jordan reached out to me a few years later.

I can’t remember what year it was; I only remember getting the email. I also remember how genuinely happy Jordan was to contact me. I assumed he must’ve gotten my information from Dwayne’s Gmail account.

Sometime later, Dwayne’s new supply (Dell) would also email me after getting my information the same way (before we eventually talked on the phone). That’s why I assume this.

I was shocked. Instead of feeling the same excitement as Jordan, I felt triggered. I was afraid of Dwayne getting or finding access to me through Jordan. I had come too far and done so much to keep myself out of Dwayne’s reach.

Especially after my run-in with his new supply, who called me to verify if the abuse she was going through was all in her head.

Dwayne was just too much of a risk, and I was seeing this possible moment of closure through the eyes of fear. So, I told Jordan that I couldn’t talk to him anymore.

I don’t remember what I said exactly, but I know it wasn’t cruel. I was matter-of-fact in my tone and let Jordan know that I couldn’t open that door of my past again.

I don’t remember what he said either, but I could tell he was hurt. It also didn’t help that later on, in the conversation I had with Dell, she stated,

“Now it makes sense.”

when I told her what Jordan saw in the kitchen that day. After our relationship ended, neither of Dwayne’s brothers opened up to any of his new supply the way they did with me.

Ever again.

Both brothers were also no longer close to him either. They kept their distance. The impact of our relationship had affected all of us, but I didn’t know it until his new supply told me.

Our telephone conversation took place after my email correspondence with Jordan. Hearing of the change in Jordan’s demeanor only magnified my guilt about how I had handled him that night.

I still harbor that guilt because, in hindsight, I should’ve had that conversation. I should’ve used more tact in my approach. That kid was like a brother to me.

I loved him very much. And I don’t think he knows that anymore. And that’s my fault. But at the time, I was doing what was necessary to heal and keep myself safe. He was a sacrifice I had to make.

Dwayne was the kind of narcissist you had to cut all ties with if you wanted to stay alive. The only way to escape him was to implement no contact to its core; this meant getting rid of everyone and everything associated with him. Including the two boys, I grew to love like family.

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.

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From The Good Men Project on Medium

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