Diary of a lovelorn victim of narcissism: Lethargy and disenchantment

The numb of the pain that I am experiencing within my system is nothing compared to the hollowness that I feel within my body. My mind feels as if it has been disconnected from my being. My soul is like a scared child cowered in the inner most recesses of my existence. My future seem dim, I did not know that a shared tiny moment would have affected my entire life. I react in tears to displays of affection and my body recoils from embrace of love from the opposite sex. I have begun to see your face on all of them. I have used your behavior as a yardstick for their conduct. Why can’t you be like them?


He seemed to have moved on very easily. He pretends I do not exist while I am withering away in to my fantasies of me and him. I keep dreaming, desperate for a reconnection I know will not materialized and even if it transpires the experience will not be less harrowing.


What can I do? I carry one with hope that one day the pain will go away. I pray that I will feel whole again, alive and in tune with who I am. I salvage what’s left of my self esteem and I drag on. My joy has been taken away. I cannot have fun. I am in a crowd and I feel starkly alone. I am surrounded by love still I only feel hatred and revulsion. I want to run to a corner in my room and lick my wounds. But I get up. I dance, laugh and return gestures.


If you could stare into my eyes, you would see that there was not one sparkle there. If you stared closely, you would have noticed my tight, forced smile. If you pried deeper you would have seen that my joy is merely skin deep. Nothing on the surface has reached my soul. But I cannot force my problems on you. You empathy and sympathy might reinforce the dullness and pain I am feeling. Some may re-traumatized me and others simply will not understand. My wounds are not palpable and tactile, they are soulful and emotional. You wouldn’t understand. Therefore I drag on…


Yes I drag since my feet refused to lift of the ground. I am too lethargic. Some days I am too weak but still I carry on for fear I may vegetate and then the narcissist would have won. He would have laughed at me and his ego inflated taking comfort and joy in my despair. I must go on. I must pick up the pieces and find a way to mend them back together. I must find my soul. Soul where are you? I must go on!