The Narcissist Ballet

The narcissist always has a force of flying monkeys at her disposal. They are always ready to do her bidding. Many are willing victims and others are deceived and have no idea the role they play in the narcissist's life. I am dismayed at the knowledge that even I have been a flying monkey. They are artfully and skillfully manipulated by the Narcissist.

If I were a dancer I would create a ballet about this delicate dance of doom. I wanted to dance when I was young. I brought home ballet books and when my MNM was not around I would practice the difficult foot positions and imagine myself dancing for crowds of adoring fans. There was something so pretty and beautiful in this dance. It was the stuff of fairy tales for me. My mother said she sent me to tap dance lessons and I cried and had no talent so she never sent me again. She said if I had wanted to dance I would have danced when I had the opportunity to do so. I guess it never occurred to her that maybe at four year of age I may not have been ready. My sister was the one who got the dancing lessons and she suffered horribly as the favoured daughter. I would not have wanted to dance in her shoes.

My ballet would have me, as the heroine; dressed in white. I would be on the stage, a wisp of being, very ethereal and delicate. I would be running hither and thither trying to escape the flying monkeys and my evil mother. The monkeys would be a dark grey and would have green faces. They would have big scary wings that they would flap at me and I would be scared and run and jump away from them. I would hide my face with my arm to protect myself from their onslaughts. I would look over my shoulder in fear.

My MNM would have a mask. One side would be beautiful and it would be the side that she would show to the flying monkeys. They would love her, pity her, help her, believe her, and adore her. What a beautiful woman she is, and that is how the narcissist gets her victims. I would see the ugly, green, jealous, envious, evil side of her face. The true face. The scapegoat child, me; always sees the truth and becomes the truth teller if they survive. She turns to me in her macabre dance and you can see her mouth moving to spew out words of hate and destruction. Her fingers are pointed in bony accusations towards me. Her dress black and tattered with decay.

She then spins and pirouttes towards her monkeys and swoops with and adoring arms wide open welcome. They dance a celebratory dance in their mutual admiration for one another. I run all over the stage looking for escape as I watch in mute silence, knowing what will happen.

The flying monkeys and my MNM nod and laugh in agreement and move in on my. I am tossed like a ship in the sea, and I flounder trying to get away. My evil MNM is directing them, arms waving madly in the arm, swooping her and there, commanding her army. The monkeys spin faster and faster. Their arms stretched out they knock me from side to side. Their legs come up as they pirouette faster and faster, arms and legs flying.

I dance faster and faster. The fear is in my face and I know my fate. I am caught by the leg of one of the monkeys and fall crashing to the ground still and silent. Crumpled, broken, and dead.

Soul murder. You can only withstand the onslaught of such evil for so long. When you are attacked from all sides and there is no way to escape you will fall. When you are so ripped apart and you have nothing with which to compare the truth, you believe the lies.

"You deserve to die."
"You don't deserve to live."
"Why don't you kill yourself."
"You'd be better off dead."
"You useless piece of s***. You'd be better off if you were out of all our miseries."
"Tell me why I should let you live."
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."
"You're a coward and suicide is the cowards way out. Why don't you try it?"
"It would be better that you killed yourself before I do it for you."
"Why do you want to live? You aren't good for anything."
"Do you know how much I hate you and want you dead?"

The first time I can recall trying to take my life I was about 12 years old. I ended up in the hospital for about 2 weeks. I drank almost an entire gallon jug of vinegar. It said pure alcohol on the side and I heard my mother talking about people dying from drinking alcohol. It didn't work. I gave myself a case of pancreatitis which puzzled the doctors. I was too young. I didn't dare tell them why.

When I was about 13 I tried to hang myself. It didn't work. I told my stepfather and he told me not to do that again. No help from the flying monkey. Not even a bit of concern.

When I was thirteen I drove a big rusty nail through my hand hoping to get tetanus and die. We took it in health and I learned about it. I didn't die. Didn't even get infected.

Stupid things. Desperate things. I made more attempts, the most serious when I was 17, and the last one when I was 39. I fight suicidal thoughts all the time.

I will dance a new dance now to my God. The old dance is no longer who I am.

Psalm 30:11  You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Lord my God, I will praise you forever.

I am thankful that I now know my worth as well. This is what the Bible tells me I am worth:

Matthew 10:29-31 Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Isaiah 13:12 I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir.