My recent fighting with my oldest, Ben, has been awful. He’s been throwing every narcissistic tactic at me, and I’ve been left trying to defend myself with whatever energy I have left. Ever since the incident that led to his arrest, he’s been on edge. The arguments feel almost inevitable now.
His paranoia is exhausting. Every passing police cruiser is “watching him.” He’s convinced he’s going to jail, no matter how many times I tell him he isn’t. My reassurances don’t land. His anger toward the police is intense, and if he keeps behaving this way, I worry he’ll get himself in trouble again. He even believes they are tapping his phone. He’s not that important, trust me.
He even got angry at me for using canned goods for dinner. He’s convinced the world is going to collapse and canned food will be the only thing left. So I’m “not allowed” to use them. Fresh or frozen only — while the cats get gourmet canned food every night and I’m scraping together enough groceries to feed us.
He accuses everyone of trying to break up our family. But our family is fine. Avery lives 400 miles away and is doing well. Rowan is in a group home with a full staff to care for him. Everyone is grown and living their lives. Nothing is “destroyed.”
He keeps guilt‑slamming me about the fight that got him arrested, insisting I “overreacted.” But having a broom handle pointed in my face while being threatened was not an overreaction. Not even close.
He claims we’re both “warriors” who fight the same way — yelling, name‑calling, chaos. But I’ve survived a toxic childhood, a psychotic ex‑husband, and the storms my kids put me through. I deserve a medal and a long vacation, not another battlefield.
He loves telling me I can’t survive without him living here. But the truth is, I’m the one keeping a roof over his head. I’m the one paying the bills. I’m the one holding everything together. The guilt trips, the lectures, the impossible expectations — I’m done with them.
He’s a classic narcissist, and the sooner he moves out, the happier and safer I’ll be.
Choosing peace, even though he doesn’t.
K.
