The Money Trap

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If anyone could put a price on the encounter with a narcissist, what would it be? Money is taboo right? Either you have it or you don’t, but you don’t say how much you have or miss, except with your close friends.

My ex-husband had a big issue with money. He forbade me to say “we can’t afford…” These words were banned, and like the ostrich with its head in the sand, he dealt with money problems by not talking about it. One evening, we went out for dinner with not less than twenty-six people. I had not worked in months and he had spent all the cash I had scraped from his money melting hands to buy stuff we did not even use.
I dared to say the words! Half way through the dinner, I asked if all these people expected us to pay for dinner. After all, he invited them! He got upset silently, he took my hand and squeezed so hard, tears came to my eyes. I stared at my plate fo the rest of the night.

He paid for the twenty-eight dinners. I choked on my piece of salad, which was all I ordered: “I had a big lunch” were the words I spat out at some stage. They all looked as if they had skipped lunch to eat more at dinner. I was furious.

If I want to count all the money this relationship cost me, I have to add in all the salaries I received while working. They went straight into his pocket. I came home and handed over the cash. He proudly paid the rent, the bills, and gave me some pocket-money, enough for my bus ride and a coffee during my break. I was not allowed more, because “I could not budget”. Seventeen years of salaries.
Then, when there was not enough, he came with me to the bank and had me asking for loans after loans. A bigger loan to cover the smaller one. Each time, he had long talks about his investments and whether or not he should transfer his (imaginary) fortune to this bank. I was begging and he was the richest man on earth. His usual chit-chat:

-“I don’t need money, you see. I make a fortune with my business… But if people did not take loans, how could the banks survive?”

This is a physical workbook to guide you through your reflection

Then we bought a house abroad. The house had a loan attached to it of course, as with any of his “projects” and when he finally understood that we could not pay for this anymore, he gave it to his parents to sell, and let them have the bit of money that came out from the sale after paying the loan back. He could not ask his parents to send the money, after they troubled themselves to sell it. How grandiose of him! The reality was that they would have understood that he needed money, and he could not accept this.

When I ran away and filed for divorce, he refused it, and the court condemn me to give him all the money I earned after paying my rent. Even far away, this abuse continued on.
The judge’s said: “You have functioned this way for seventeen years, there is no reason to change this!” and he slammed his stupid little hammer.

How not to be angry? How not to resent all these years? I will not put my head down and cry, because I have been a victim. I said it many times, and I will say it again, I used to be good with money. I had a car, I was going to buy a house, I worked and paid for my studies, I paid my rent, I put money aside, I gave to charity… All was well with me… All WAS well.

I will get well again. It will take the time it takes, but I will be OK with money again. I did not deserve what happened. So, even if I am still in that money trap, wondering every day how to get through tomorrow, I can claim “well, I did get through today!” and I will tackle tomorrow when it comes with my chin up.

Thank you for the money!

How many times have I looked inside my purse and found the last one of the month? The last ten-dollar bill, sometimes a twenty… more rarely a hundred-dollar bill.

I used to be so good with money. I earned my salary, put some aside, gave out a chunk to friends or charity, paid all the bills, and spent the rest, without worries. When I needed something, I just plunged a hand in my purse, without even looking because I knew there was what I needed and surprises were always good. When an unexpected bill landed in my letter box, I frowned, not because my brain went on overdrive searching for solutions to pay this, but because I simply had not foreseen this expense, nothing more than a mere “Oh, really?”

Now my life is centered around the period stretching between the 25th and the 1st of the next month. This is the time when I start salivating… Money, where are you? Are you coming today? Will you be there tomorrow? Every month, I wonder why I salivate because if I miss to check my bank account on the day when the money is deposited, I don’t get to see my credit with a positive figure… Nope! If I check my online banking the day after, it’s already too late, numbers are flashing in large red ink…. argh!

What happened? How did I get from that nonchalant wage earner to this eager balance-starving person? The answer is as pathetic as I feel: I met two negative men, one after the other. The first one did not work… yet, still searching his path. Unlike me, who started to work very early on to support myself and pay for my studies. I kept up that good habit. I worked, he spent.
After I left him, I met a second parasite. He became my husband. He never worked, despised people who worked. He had a larger plan… which remained a plan for the seventeen years I suffocated in our relationship. I worked, he spent.

Twenty years down the line and my credit score is appalling. There is no way to have better score for as long as I have debts, this is a fact. So, I pay back my debts, one cent at a time, even if it does not make any sense, because the interest is higher than what I can pay back on my present salary. But at least, I am headed in the right direction and I feel good about it. I am not at the end of the tunnel, and quite far from it, but I can sense the light getting closer and closer every day.

I rejoice and I say “Thank you for the money!”