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Looking back at my past 18 months, somehow it feels like one big power struggle... As I've stated I was "the other man", and that skewed the relationship dynamics even more to my detriment... For all the chaotic ramblings about BPD emotions being all over the place, I keep wonder if my ex didn't lean over to the NPD side more strongly... This is what my life was:

• I could never call her.  Not even once in 18 months... Because she needed to be secretive. I was always on call, never the other way around. Needless to say, it kept me hooked to my phone screen, just waiting for news from her side.
• Everything was about her situation. Her feelings. Her problems. My role was to support her in every way. My emotions never figured into anything.
• Complaints from my side were often met with intense and sudden irritation. This always threw me off balance, because she would switch from the love-bombing, future-faking person to zero empathy when things came down to it.
• Really fundamental complaints and warnings of ending things were always met with a swift "You are right... I'm not treating you the way I should... I need to let you go". This felt so manipulative to me, because it made being with her a losing game: either I put up with the way she treated me, or she would swiftly suggest ending things. The result was that I would back down quickly and even beg her not to give up on us, and that I would try harder.
• When I would really suffer (and lose weight), she'd reprimand me for being in such a poor state, and tell me this was not nice and attractive to her.
• She would cause me tremendous unrest and anxiety, and then tell me that I really needed to work on my anxiety and for the love of god find a way to deal with things in a stronger manner.
• If I would "push" her to make choices and move forward (out of her official relationship) she'd instantly tell me that if she felt pressured from both sides in this way, she would just choose "no guy at all" and leave the both of us. Putting me docilely back in my cage of course...
• Time to meet up would of course be decided by her. I was always the one that needed to keep his schedule open and change my plans.
• She always had a very easy and passive aggressive way to push me out of her life: she would feel confused and lost all of a sudden - often after I made some fundamental remarks about her behaviour, and would need time to really think about this. The message was subtle but clear: criticise me and I'll disappear for a while. She always came back though...
• If things got too conflictuous between us, she would say "I can't do this anymore. It's too exhausting... We need to end this..." - cue my obvious retreat and reaction.
• After conflict she would dissociate or "fake to dissociate", putting me in the "good puppy" corner even more, because when your partner dissociates, the guidebook is clear: make no demands, be there for her, put her at ease, tell her what she's going through is perfectly normal and make her feel safe above all. In the meantime she could just plainly say "I don't feel anything at all anymore."
• The list goes on and on...

Ugh... It was so skewed, especially with me being the other man, from day one...

I forgot some more...

• My role and importance in her life was kept "small" because I needed to be hidden. I would often hear from her about conversations with friends or co-workers about how hard her life and relationship was (the big pity story) - I was always left out of the story of course, making me feel insignificant.
• There were transgressions from her side that I was to afraid or ashamed to tell to my friends, because I knew they would reactly harshly, probably rightfully so. This led to me being isolated more and more without a support network that knew the true story. E.g. my parents didn't know that it was an affair, because they are of the principle that cheating is never justified. They are probably right... I justified it because of her pity story, naturally... But it cut off a big part of my emotional support - increasing her importance to me, although she was never there for my support, of course.

Yeah... In hindsight it's crazy that I stuck around in such a toxic situation and made do with so little from her... But of course she always had the big problematic troubles, and would future-fake a future where she would be all-caring for me, once she was free to do so...

Hey TVDA,

Sorry to read your story.

What you now have, though, is clear indication that when / if you next see red flags, you have to believe them.

The girl was cheating on her partner with you. This alone should tell you all you need to know about her moral standing.

What I have seen over my time here is that most of us in similar situations as yours said "yeah, she / he does it to her / his partner, but she / he would never do it to me because of a, b, c". Then, inevitably, they do it to us too.

The best advice that's often given here is: look back at your situation and ask why you allowed it to happen, find that answer so that you never allow it to happen again...otherwise, it will. These sorts of people make us all feel alive. Something about the drama draws us...we need to address that.

tvda, you and I seem to have starring roles in the same film, only with genders reversed. From what you write, NPD seems likely. BPD occurs in comorbidity with NPD more often than not.

Your experiences are harrowing, and harrowingly familiar. I've found it helpful to see that my ex wasn't a bad person, he is simply mentally ill. That doesn't make it better, but it removed a lot of the anger and inspired (distanced) compassion.


Same here. I was never able/"allowed" to call my ex. He usually used his part-time, work-from-home job as an excuse for this ("you don't know what it's like to be an employee" -- I do though).

After he dumped me for the first time and then came back, we arranged that in order for us to rebuild trust, we'd talk on the phone every evening. He ended up postponing these calls almost every day, usually for non-reasons like his mother having cooked dinner etc. He often didn't tell me when exactly he'd call. Instead, I was simply supposed to wait for him, often until midnight.

I did this exactly once in return -- I asked whether we could talk at 10.30 instead of at 10 -- and when we talked, he was sulky and complained that "everything had to be about me all the time".

We stopped talking on the phone not long afterwards.


Same here. And there was always something: his feelings for the ex-girlfriend he had left for me, issues at work (which were almost always completely avoidable), his inability to complete a minor academic work, him having argued with his father, etc. I had to be there for him 24/7 and he used me as a constant dumping ground for his problems, his anger, his frustrations.

But when I happened to be down and out, which was rather seldom, he was never there. I once called him in tears, because among other things I had learnt that day that an old lady I really love was terminally ill, and also that my pet of seven years was likely to pass away within the next year. Note that I'm not one to cry often, or easily. He was cold: "How often do you have these fits? Do you keep records about them? Isn't your best friend available tonight?"

That was about two months into the relationship, and it shocked me how callously he treated me. When I asked him whether he could come over, still crying, he said: "Well... tonight is somewhat inconvenient."

When he did eventually come over, his demeanour had completely changed. He was suddenly caring and tender, though he said the strange words: "I don't understand what's going on with you, but I see it."


Yes! This! And every calm, sober attempt to set even the most modest boundary was met with "Why are you making such accusations? Why are you creating such drama again? See, this is why I have doubts that this will ever work out" etc.


Also, this! "I'm not good for your needs." (What the hell does that even mean!)


Very familiar. And it worked the other way around, too: When I dressed nicely or put on makeup, I was reprimanded for doing so. "Why are you so dressed up? Why do you wear so much make-up?" (I wear very little and nothing fancy.) "Don't do that." It was sometimes followed up with "You're so pretty, you don't need it", which in turn was followed by anger when I didn't fawn over this remark.


Towards the end of our relationship, my ex kept telling me that I should see a therapist for my "anxiety" and my "problems". The "anxiety" and "problems" being my wanting to see him twice a week and being unhappy about his lack of commitment.


Exactly the triangulation my ex used with his ex-girlfriend and me. (Again, maybe a small consolation, but this likely wouldn't have changed had you two been official -- it would likely only have shifted the roles between you and the other man and nothing more.)


Same here. Towards the end of our relationship, I dared once (!) to make a suggestion of what day to meet up. It was met with fierce aggression, which seemed to come out of nowhere. After seven months of always making time for him whenever he wanted, I dared to suggest "let's meet up on Friday, because on Sunday I have this work commitment". It resulted in a barrage of rage and anger, how it "always had to be about me", how I was trying to "control" him, etc.

It ended in a huge, hours-long argument. He accused me of being selfish and uncaring. When I finally broke down and told him, in tears, about all the times I had shifted around my schedule and my activities in the past few weeks, renouncing activities with my friends, he was suddenly pacified and content. "See, now I understand you better."

We ended up not meeting up that weekend, because as he said, I was still "controlling" him, and he didn't want to be "controlled". (Note: Meeting on Friday instead of Sunday would have made zero difference to his plans -- of which he had none.)


Oh, the infamous disappearing act, the theatrical "I need to sort out my feelings"... this I've witnessed more often than I can count.


My ex would have exactly this reaction about the most minor things. He'd incite an argument, I'd try to solve it calmly and rationally, and then he'd text me things like "I'm perishing in these choppy seas... I can't do this anymore... whatever may come, take care of yourself".


Oh God, the (fake) dissociation! I didn't realise that was a thing. It would scare me witless to see my ex sit on the sofa with his eyes closed, sometimes with one hand on his forehead like a Baroque noblewoman, lying back in silence for literal hours (!) when we were having an argument. I was expected to sit next to him the entire time, and to patiently wait for his response. If I dared say anything, he would say "I can't... I can't... I need you to be silent" or get up and threaten to leave.

Also the "I don't feel anything right now"... terrible. It was a constant occurrence. Of course this makes you "work harder" for their affections...

It only occurred to me after our relationship had ended that I had enabled this behaviour by unconditionally being there for him, stroking his hair, holding his hand, telling him that everything would be all right etc. It did already feel wrong at the time, but I didn't know what else to do back then.[/list]

Oh God yes, the self-pity. And being hidden from friends! My ex didn't introduce me to a single friend of his in eight months, even though he knew most of mine. The excuses he made for this were both plentiful and ridiculous. And no matter what, it was always my fault (e.g. "They are friends with my ex and you want me to cut off contact with her, I can't present them with someone who wants to rob me of the great friendship with my ex").

Even though he spoke of marriage and children, there was no mention of me on his social media. We weren't even friends on Facebook.

I once posted a story on Instagram where a shirtsleeve of his was visible. It made him very uncomfortable.


This I know too well. There are some friends I haven't met/written to since my ex and I broke up for the first time in January, because I'm ashamed of having to tell them that the great love story they were all rooting for turned out to be a complete shambles. (Many told me "I'm so glad you've finally found your person! People like him are the best!")

Even my best friend, whom I confided in the entire time, doesn't know the whole picture, such as my ex having battered his girlfriend before me, or having visited a prostitute two years ago.

Some things are better left unspoken, but it does open a mental chasm between you and the people you trust most.


If it's of any consolation, it's my regret now, too. There was always something. He would even make promises: "When this is done, then I will have all the time in the world for you." "When this is done, I can focus more on you." "When this is done, things should get easier between us."

Only problem, nothing ever got done -- not by him, that is.

Last night I read this brief article about the seven stages of trauma bonding. You might find this relatable:

https://themighty.com/2020/09/trauma-bonding-signs/

There's also this great article about why it is so hard to leave a narcissist, detailing that it is, biologically speaking, akin to recovering from an opiate addiction:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/understanding-narcissism/201801/why-is-it-so-hard-leave-the-narcissist-in-your-life