Usually, I believe walking away is the best thing to do. But I came across this story on Quora “How I Became My Narcissist’s Worst Nightmare” and I have to say…KUDOS. Sometimes, if you get the chance to beat these creatures at their silly little games and actually win, you may want to do it.
This story comes from Barbara Marie Corsini. Thanks for sharing this story with us!
How To Beat A Narcissists At Their Own Game
I did it. I beat mine at his own game. But it took me to a dark place and I lost a little piece of my soul.
I had discovered his massive and fantastic web of lies and he was unable to deny it. He broke down terribly and was at a loss to explain himself. It was absolutely terrible to watch. I’d never seen anyone so empty and broken.
I thought he could be fixed. I told him I would forgive him and stick by him and help him understand himself.
A couple of days later we were out at a sports club with his friends. They were being supportive due to his suicide attempt a couple of months earlier.
While we were skirting vaguely around the subject of that particular recent crisis, he very subtlety inferred to us all that it was me who had driven him to that suicide attempt. It was in such a way that I had no way to reply without looking callous and crazy. But I was suddenly VERY deeply angry. And I made my plan.
Now I knew that he was empty and felt a desperate sense of nothingness. Now I knew how easy it was to hurt him.
Deep down they can and do hurt, very badly.
It’s so easy to further undermine somebody’s sense of self when they lack so badly in this area. And you’ve been taught by your own personal narc. You realize the ways in which they hurt you are also the ways in which they can be hurt the most. It’s so easy once you know.
I f*cked with that guy’s head for the next 8 months. I would let nothing at all provoke me, instead, I fully submitted and treated him like a God and did all his bidding. And I never showed any emotion but distracted happiness. When the cycle came to dumping time again he was going to be sorry. He would have no recent stories of conflict to smear me with, so this was partly self-preservation.
But not only that…
While I was being so ‘nice’ and compliant I would also do this thing where when he got into the shower I would turn on a hot water tap in the kitchen to full so he would suddenly freeze, wait a bit for him to adjust, and then swap and off with the hot, on with the cold. In this way, he would have the maximum chance of scalding himself. He never mentioned it once and neither did I, but he knew I was f*cking with him. About this time I decided I much preferred taking baths.
I was weak when I met him and he hated to see me with any sense of self. Once we went to a music gig on the other side (where I grew up) of town and a friend remarked that this was my old stomping ground. I saw that remark pierced his heart, and the evening turned out to be very ugly indeed.
So now, to hurt him, I only had to say tiny subtle remarks that make him think I have a sense of self. Like remembering things I did with friends when I lived on the other side of town. But I know now that these things pierce his very soul. There’s nothing that hurts him more than to see me whole. I let an arrow fly, let it fester, and watch him suffer.
When he recovers enough, I let another one go.
In truth, I fantasized that he might make another suicide attempt, but this time when I found him, still alive of course but not dead as that’s not his intention, I would walk away for a few hours and wait for the poison or whatever he used to have the full effect, and come back to ‘discover’ him already dead. I’m pretty sure he suspected this, or he would have used it as a tactic to hurt me.
He just couldn’t break me.
Then he tried to set me up for the ultimate discard. He asked me to marry him.
Actually he borrowed the exact phrases his brother had used when proposing to his girl. It was all I could do to keep from telling him that I had also been there when his brother told the story.
He most definitely planned to abandon me at the alter.
My reply reflected the sentiments expressed often by him and his friends around marriage. I said ‘ honey I love you so much, but it’s JUST a piece of paper. WE don’t need it to prove our love. You don’t have to do this for MY sake. I’m happy the way we are’. He really tried to talk me around, but I stayed firm and ‘insisted’ it wasn’t necessary for my sake.
Two weeks later came the discard.
I was ready. I said cheerily but a little sadly (but laughing because this is MY evil plan coming to fruition) okay, sure, no problem, and remained unaffected. And I didn’t ask to talk about it and simply made a cup of tea and put the dinner on.
In 2 days I found a place and was moved out.
He was still stunned. God, he wanted the opportunity to humiliate me and discard so badly, so he’s hoovering me. I use the opportunity to get him to put a new engine in my car. F*ck it was hard work, but he got it done.
Then no contact. Drop him like a sack of sh*t.
He’s not stupid, so he would have worked it out. I f*cked with his head and then I did the discard, or rather let him do it so he looked like the bad guy and everyone felt sorry for me.
And while he was floundering trying to figure out what was happening I used him. Over 8 months. It was an elaborate creation of bullshit to set him up for MY ultimate discard. He was humiliated and I could only be viewed by outsiders as the perfect girlfriend.
And to see me walking away strong and independent, not bitter but still loving, was the final crushing blow.
I sound like a narc. I lost a piece of my soul in acting this way. And I don’t recommend it, but I beat that f*cker at his own game and hurt him way more in the end than he hurt me.
Enjoy my revenge vicariously.
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Usually, I would not advise playing their game but I honestly believe that this was a great way to get back an to do so while not sinking too low.
“And to see me walking away strong and independent, not bitter but still loving, was the final crushing blow.“
Now, this…this is how you beat a narcissist at their own game.
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