Somewhere in Germany, on 07/07/2019
24 months ago today, I answered a nice question after registering on an online dating exchange just a day earlier – literally: looking for my second half.I found them. I found my shadow child.
The first month of our love was probably the only moment in my entire life, as I had to admit later, when I first felt the pure feeling of acceptance, of security, of mental security, of peace in me, of how love tastes and the healing all my invisible wounds suddenly felt.I held on to this feeling – to be a complete person at last and for the first time – at all costs and desperately. This feeling of my wholeness through this man led me to believe, only by a connection with him, to be able to sustain it in me. I walked towards a mirage, with a view of water and food so I could live. And so I needed him to save myself from myself. And so I used it to do just that.
12 months ago, almost as closely to the day, he chose a groundbreaking act on us, his family of the time, that heralded the end of our powers.The last two years have taken me mentally and physically, that I could not master them even without a hospital stay. They brought me to my limits of what I could bear and perhaps far beyond.
Two years ago, I didn’t have the slightest hint of a clue how dead I actually was; how empty my cups were and the Grail in myself could not bring forth growth for anyone.I just didn’t know, Luke. For 12 months, two mental carcasses have attempted to resuscitate each other, and these attempts have been fatal almost a second time. And this over and over again.
For 11 months I have been trying to answer your question.Many months had to pass in which he was only allowed to be the malignant narcissist-sociopath-borderliner-clusterB-psychopath. It’s easier for the psyche to understand, you know you can’t love demons and monsters. To admit that he was actually my second half hidden in me, with which I struggled, with which I fought a hopeless duel and slowly realized that two destroyed toddlers were almost helplessly trying to find the same in the other, in order finally feeling security. And so my journey of processing led me back into his heart, into his primal wound, into his humanity, so that I could finally comprehend my heart, my wounds and my humanity. On this path, dear Luke, you and Hans-Peter helped me to turn a demon into a man again. The desperate dance of the inner shadow children together, lifted up my contempt for him and allowed me to heal the deep injuries inflicted on me. The contempt was exchanged with a meaningful sense of compassion, healing a piece of heritage that once represented our relationship. Two children with similarly shocking and destructive biographies. Two children with the same desire to make the pain pain painless and finally find a home.
I can’t tell you how much narcissists suffer from their illness, but I can certainly proclaim that they do.A man is not malignant, Luke.A person acts in himself and others only maligne when he suffers deeply from his living being and repeatedly fails to do so. That fell off for me and I am grateful for that. And so I love this person from a far away – as he is. I would like to give a voice to his and my suffering here. We couldn’t hear, feel and understand each other within our relationship, so now the little girl takes the little boy by the hand and reports on our wound.
“You and I: We are one.I can’t hurt you without hurting me.”