I grew up in a narcissistic family and didn't escape my (and my family's) abuser until age 32.

I had suffered the dysfunction of my family from the beginning, but wasn't able to label the abuser at the head of the family as a "narcissist" until I was about 29. I had studied psychology (informally) since about age 22 in an attempt to self-diagnose the symptoms I was suffering from. I entered therapy for the first time at age 25.

I didn't know what was "wrong" with me, but I had been in a chronically debilitating mental space since age 17. The fruits of my abusers labor—the symptoms of his abuse—really starting taking shape as soon as puberty hit, but my mind/body were able to repress the worst of the impact until age 17. I told my high school psychology teacher that "I feel like if I kill myself no one will care". She told me she needed to report that, but I pleaded with her not to as "I wouldn't actually do anything". She agreed not to report it. I suffered a lot of suicidal ideation in the following years, but fortunately I'm here to tell the tale.

I don't know if it was a good thing that my teacher didn't report what I said. I'm not sure how the course of my journey would have changed had my abuser, or the rest of the family, known how seriously I was struggling. I had made my suffering known in various ways throughout the years, and the rest of my family was also suffering tremendously, but like so many victims of narcissistic abuse they remain in profound denial about the impact that the narcissist has had (and continues to have) on them; they are in profound denial that they've been (and continue to be) abused at all, that the narcissist is in fact a narcissist, etc.

As I said, I entered therapy for the first time at age 25. My refusal to give up on therapy eventually panned out, as I now have a relationship with a therapist who's helped me more than anyone in my life. It wasn't always this way, though. Too many therapists are simply unaware of what "narcissistic abuse" is, let alone how it manifests. That's been my experience through most of my therapy journey, having visited many different therapists over many years. For most of it I've been alone in getting clear on what exactly has been happening to me.

My less-than-helpful therapy experiences include: being treated like I just need to perk up and be more positive; being told that I lack compassion for my abuser; being told that I'm likely autistic; being told that my profound fear of my abuser was a result of a combination of: 1) my misunderstanding of cultural differences between myself and my abuser, and 2) my strong imagination.

These are the sorts of things that can drive a victim of narcissistic abuse further into the narcissistic shared fantasy in which the victim is the problematic one.

After a few years, as the story goes for many survivors of narcissistic abuse, I came upon the YouTube channel of Sam Vaknin. It all started coming together for me. I still look to Sam Vaknin and others, especially more recently Mark Thomas Beare, to further clarify what the hell this all is.

Narcissistic abuse is still not fully understood, and I continue to broaden my understanding of this budding field.

That's the long and short of it. I had always, always, tried to "figure out" what was going on in my family. I was the peacemaker, the truth-teller, and so on. I made repeated, strenuous efforts to intellectualize what was happening in the family. Psychology helped me do that, and I believe I've been successful in my efforts.

Accordingly, I became a life coach in 2019 and took my first "coaching call" in 2020. The years I've put into my own therapy journey, the years I've put into studying psychology, and the years I've put into coaching all contribute to the support I'm able to provide and the space I'm able to hold for others who have suffered something similar to me. I don't consider myself to be fully healed, as I'm not sure I believe in that idea. I continue to grow on my own path, and I learn the most from my clients.

Thank you to anyone who has worked with me, and please never give up.