I just listened to the Dirty John podcast in two days and Luis reminds me of this type of serial predator who creeps out everyone but the woman he’s conning. I feel for Molly screaming that she feels like she’s going insane. It’s not you, it’s Luis. She held her own and made a rational argument in the face of gaslighting insanity. I’ve been drawling to Trent all week: Take your little ring and get outta my house!
Here’s a sweet, sad, supportive thread for those who experience emotional abuse:
This post existed in my brain for a long time but I put off writing because it causes me to dwell on negative energy. But since I’m already dwelling anyway…! Let us exorcise and banish thee, succubus!
The title existed before the post, before I shared with others I had cut ties with my best friend (I have several) of a decade, Juniper. When I told my friend, Rahul, unlike others who reacted with shock and surprise (wow, no way, that’s pretty extreme, Nil, maybe you are the crazy one?), Rahul’s reaction was perfect. “Oh yeah, she’s a succubus. Good.” VALIDATION. Rahul has also encouraged me to write for more than a year and has a partner with Lyme disease. Thanks, Rahul.
NEWAYZ…
As a mental health professional, adult working out childhood issues, INFJ, and empath who only remembers to maintain boundaries in her professional life, I attract Cluster B personalities. I find them fascinating, fun, charming, and Cluster Bs really like me. Many mental health professionals dislike the DSM, but after having a caseload of 500 clients at a community psychiatric clinic, I’m here to tell you that some people are textbook in their behavior. I can sit down for five minutes with a client and check their chart. Sure enough, Axis II. Now of course, I believe all these people have PTSD and their personality extremes are due to their clever adaptation and survival of their insane, abusive childhood environments and now these behaviors no longer serve them as adults. Still, I don’t want these people in my life. But I let them in and cling desperately to them. There are some awesome self-aware Cluster Bs online, such as Sam Vaknin, and posters at psychforums. I hate to use one phrase to clump everyone together, but for the sake of brevity, I am doing that. If you’re not self-aware, I just can’t.
Juniper. I wouldn’t admit it for several years, but I knew she probably had a personality disorder (PD), which I tried to excuse or work around or take a break from. If you made me guess, I would go with histrionic or covert narcissist. Richard Grannon has a great YouTube channel and website on managing contact with a narcissist. There’s a lot of literature on borderline and narcissist personalities, but not as much on histrionic. That’s why I like to clump them all together as Cluster B PDs because there are overlapping traits and a spectrum. Not every person with a diagnosis will present as alike, although it is eerie how similar some are.
Guess what happens when you have a chronic disease or shit goes down in your life? You have less energy and time to give others. You become aware of your spoons and who in your life takes them and who gives back.
Juniper used to call me multiple times in a row until I picked up, or text me over and over to finish my meal so she could talk to me about a guy she wanted to hook up with. I used to think this was because we were SO close and Juniper liked me so much. Now I realize I was a vessel for narcissistic supply, one of her many best friends she cycled through. (For a self-aware HPD’s insight on “fan clubs”, read here.) I noticed in July 2016 I was giving a lot of energy listening to Juniper’s complaints about her separated husband who was threatening her life while she continued to hang out with him and hide that she was filing for divorce. I set a boundary that I could no longer hear complaints about this situation until Juniper made a decision and moved forward. Juniper reacted with sadness and anger: I would never do this to you! I would be there for you NO MATTER WHAT!
This declaration was tested a few weeks later when Trent had a seizure at work and was not breathing for a few minutes until resuscitated by EMS. Getting the phone call from my father-in-law was…I was in denial, but also very calm. Let’s prepare to go to whatever hospital they send me to. Trent may be dead. Okay. Let’s do this. I only called my mother and Juniper initially to process. But Juniper was too busy. I let her know Trent’s ER visit was top-level important and she called and said: Oh my god, I am so busy and stressed out! I have all these papers to write plus my real estate-
That is where I cut her off, relayed my trauma in five minutes, and then allowed her to talk about herself again. I hung up the phone and decided I was done with her. This was not an isolated behavior. I brought up my grievances with Juniper in the past and she reacted defensively, promised to change, and did not. I pondered what to do and the honest, loyal friend in me wanted to bring up my concerns and hurt and work it out. Don’t act rationally with Cluster B types. There is no winning and no closure. Insight from a mutual friend, Shaw: No matter how well you prepared, there’s no way to be quicker to the draw than someone who is willing to weaponize anything within reach.
Luckily? I found out in August 2016 I would be having surgery and my friend, Camille, advised me to take care of myself and not say anything. Sitting on my bathroom floor, painting caulk between the tiles as we drank bubbly and ate a gluten-free snack Camille brought for me, I thought to myself, why am I spending so much energy on Juniper when there are amazing people in my life who give back to me?
Surgery was an excellent reason to focus on myself and employ the grey rock method. I didn’t have energy for anything else. I’ve gone No Contact with a friend with borderline traits and it was not pretty. I still get texts five years later wishing me a Merry Christmas if I forget to block her on a new phone. I suppose that’s better than hearing what a fucking cunt I am?
I was nervous that Juniper would sense me withdrawing from the relationship, but seriously, chronic illness and grey rock go hand in hand!
Would you like to hear about my surgery recovery in boring detail?
Nah, I’ll just text that I miss you and love you every few days to cover my friendship obligations.
Oh, you want to get together? I can’t drink on opiates, but you’re welcome to come over and sit on the couch with me and watch TV. I’m available all day, every day.
I miss you so much! Hope you’re feeling better! Love you! (See: lovebombing technique)
This could not last. We would see one another periodically and I would be friendly, keep topics surface-level, engaging with her finalizing her divorce and discovering Tinder. I was more aware of her impressionistic speech and irritated by throwaway comments such as, “You do NOT eat! I know you do not eat! You are too skinny!” Rather than ignoring this, I would bite back, “I eat a lot. I have an autoimmune disease which prevented me from absorbing nutrients.” Smiles viciously, takes deep breaths, reminds self that Juniper struggles with bulimia and is projecting her own body dysmophia on to me. I will say, I have seen Juniper grow and try over the years. It’s just not enough growth for me and where I’m at in life.
After the second surgery in February 2017, Juniper became more aggressive about getting together, then would flake, and after several attempts to talk on the phone around her schedule, I texted: hey girl, I don’t have the energy for this. How bout I see you when I see you, and that’ll be awesome?
Juniper did not think that would be awesome, reacted defensively, asked to meet so she could tell me how I could work on our relationship, while she would not work on our friendship because she didn’t have energy. Great, we’re on the same page! Let’s both not work on our friendship together!
And a rational person would stop there. But the next day Juniper texted requesting a phone meeting so she could express her feelings. NOPE. I tried to explain I had things going on in my life she didn’t know about (besides being three weeks out from excision surgery) and I really needed to be selfish. I was dealing with depression, possible infertility, and having panic attacks about this neverending dialogue. I wouldn’t give her a chance to tell me the ways I was a disappointing friend.
Truly, you are a great friend. The greatest of friends, great indeed. Everyone should be so lucky to have you as a friend.
I blocked her on all social media, including LinkedIn (you know this shit is serious). Juniper lashing out left the window open for me to summarize my list of grievances, tell her I was hurt, and that I could never do anything more than politely say hello to her in public via text. Then I blocked her! Or so I thought lol. I ended up needing to download a buggy text message blocking app after I received a text a week later telling me she hoped I was feeling better and that nothing I did could ever make her not love me WTF FOR REAL. Juniper lives in a world of delusion and that’s how she gets out of bed every morning and tucks away her immense self-hatred. It has taken me a long time to arrive at a place where I don’t perserverate on Juniper’s behavior and not seeing her Instagrams helped with that. I’ve gotten over romantic relationships more quickly.
Why am I talking about all this now? A dear friend from my grad school cohort came into town and we arranged a time to go for coffee. Trent and I met her baby full of fat rolls and I was holding said baby in my arms (I apologize for the hate vibes flowing through you, baby) when Juniper walks up and coos over the baby. I stare down at the baby smiling and say hi. Keep staring down at the baby so your smile is justified. Babies are happy. But then I realize she was invited (by my poor grad school friend, the nicest human in existence and a fellow counselor), Juniper is sitting down, Trent and I can’t escape her. We’re going to have an intimate hang. No, please.
I directly announced this was going to be awkward as Juniper and I were not speaking and the situation devolved from there. (My poor, sweet friend.) I was directly aggressive, explaning the why and wherefore, while Juniper made passive-aggressive comments to our mutual friend: She’s mad because I flaked one time. She’s just like this. I thought we could put aside our differences for the sake of our dear friend. I don’t have the energy to spend time on stuff like this. I texted you. This is the only time I have to see our dear friend. Why do I have so many good friends if you think I’m a succubus? Shaw is totally my friend, he came over to my house and we had a great talk. Okay, well Shaw isn’t speaking to me anymore because he was abusive and I needed to stop the abuse and take care of myself-
I see your victim bullshit and I am not playing. You thought I didn’t reply to your text because I was paralyzed with joy at seeing you? Trick, please. I finally asked Juniper to leave us alone while we said goodbye.
What good can come out of this? I’ve asked myself that a lot of times over the past year at stages in my diseases. What is the meaning? Why am I being taught this lesson? This one is easy.
The silver lining of chronic disease is that it weeds out the people who are toxic, unsupportive, and draining your life force, real quick. And then you’re left with a circle of love.
infinite losses 