I’m always in an invisible prison.  The narc’s prison.  Surrounded by their walls.  Their ever changing rules.  Their tactics.  Their landmines are everywhere.  Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.  Like there is something crushing my chest….my heart. I don’t feel free.  I don’t remember what freedom feels like.  My world feels small.  And it’s getting smaller as I close myself in to my own home….just to hide.  I’m always playing their game.  I’m so tired of playing games.  Nothing is natural any more.  I can’t trust anyone.  I’m always watching, paying close attention to every detail….what’s being said, what’s not being said, what could be said, what should be said, what can’t be said, what must be said.  I’m playing chess every day….trying to navigate the board to get check and not to be checked.  I won’t ever get check mate.  Sometimes I just want to scream.  Sometimes I just don’t care anymore.  I don’t want to know people any more.  I don’t want anyone to know me.  How to stay away from all of them? But there seem to be so many.  And they are so good at wearing their masks.  How can any of us know until it’s too late and we are ensnared in their web unable to get out.  They have whittled me down to nothingness.  I’m not that special I’ve come to realize.  I don’t want to be special anyway.  All special does is attract people who want something from you.  I don’t want to give anything to anyone any more.  I can’t wait until I’m free.    I’m counting down.  And I’m praying that my freedom from the narcs comes sooner than later.   One can only hope.  Until then, I cope with it all quietly.  Careful not to make too much noise so as not to land on their radar.  I try to be invisible.  As invisible as one can possibly be without dying.

Photo by George Becker on

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