Letting Go: When “Me” Replaces “We”

After what was the most Twilight Zone surrealistic mind-bending Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde moment with head-spinning speed in the history of narcissistic discard, I spent the next two months curled up in a fetal position in our ginormous Cadillac of a bed learning everything I could that might explain how someone could be a sweet and loving husband one minute and a ruthless devil incarnate without shame or remorse in the next minute. Sometimes a little bit of cognitive dissonance sets in and I begin to doubt my own sanity. I begin to think I must be some pathetic scorned woman who is just upset because she got dumped. But then I think about how he did it and the way he acted immediately after he did it, and all I know is that no normal average healthy man would be capable of that. All the markers for a personality disorder or some kind of mental deregulation are there, plain as day. I don’t need a label or a diagnosis. There is something wrong with someone who is capable of such behavior.

In the horrific aftermath of shock, denial, confusion, disbelief and utter horror, I became informed in order to try to make sense of the madness of it all and achieve some sense of acceptance and begin moving towards closure. I survived five minutes at a time, and like a fish out of water, gasping for air and preparing to die any minute, I discovered something interesting. Not once did I think about…