This is exactly what happened in my case. This is my story. As a child, I spent most of my time within the confines of my home. For this reason, people would call me all sorts of names, even my own family. I would not go out and play with other kids; I would not explore the world. Everyone thought I was shy. They thought I was lazy. They thought I was cowardly. But I was not. Nobody knew that both worlds—inside and outside my home—were different parts of hell. For me, the only difference was that the inside of my home was a familiar hell that I knew how to navigate. I could find corners to hide in, but outside it was extremely unpredictable. You may ask, what made it so unpredictable? The answer is extreme bullying. I had not only been subjected to narcissistic abuse at home, but I also experienced the worst form of bullying one could encounter outside.
When I was forced to take my mother back after a separation of seven or eight years, I was suddenly dropped into a community that didn’t accept me. I wanted to belong, but they rejected me. Why? Because I was the one with different mannerisms and customs. The children in the local community saw me as the weird one, the crazy one. I could not fit in anywhere and was heavily bullied. I remember how these kids, and even many of the adults, would chase me on the roads. Literally, I could not walk anywhere peacefully. I remember my mother asking me to go out and buy groceries or run simple errands. She thought I was just being shy, resistant, or lazy. When I refused, she thought I was being disobedient. This would invite even more shaming from her, from her husband, guilt-tripping, and a lot of physical abuse as well. Then I would have to force myself to go out. This cycle made me extremely socially anxious. I would stutter when trying to talk to people. I could not make eye contact with anyone. I would shiver and sweat uncontrollably in social situations. That is what I was struggling with every single day. I just wanted to stay in my home forever—no events, no school, no social situations, nothing. But that was not my natural shyness. If you are struggling with the same thing, maybe it’s not your shyness either. It’s not even just social anxiety, and it’s definitely not introversion. It’s your trauma response.
We survivors do not trust unfamiliar situations because we do not know how to navigate the unpredictable unpredictability. We do not know what kind of attack may be launched at us next. So what do we do? We choose what feels like safety, even when that safety is actually isolation.
5 Ways Narcissistic Abuse Makes You Super Intelligent
The Impact of Trauma on Social Interactions
Continue reading on the next page
Sharing is caring!
Leave a Comment