Self-love (not the fun kind)

Many years ago, in the middle of a horrific divorce, my ex accused me of molesting my children.  I knew I had never done anything even remotely close to what she accused me of doing, but she was persistent and even got therapists in on calling me a monstrous abuser.    The accusations were so relentless and so passionate that eventually I began to doubt my own memory.  I wondered if it were possible that I could abuse my children and not know it.

I discovered eventually that my ex and her partner's accusations were an attempt to draw attention away from horrific physical abuse that THEY were committing. But by that time, the damage to my psyche and self confidence had already been done. 

Recent experiences vaguely mirror those events from twenty five years ago.  I've lost several friends this past year.  In every case, the shunning began as a sudden anger that seemed to come from nowhere or as an huge over-reaction to a minor criticism.  Sooner or later in all these tirades, the people that I used to know make new accusations...that I am a self-absorbed narcissist.

I don't think I'm a narcissist.  I am not aware of any abusive self-love tendency on my part.   I in no way feel that everything is about "me me me."  But with each new accusation that comes in, I find myself once again doubting the veracity of my own memory. If everyone who is angry with me winds up saying that I'm self-absorbed, it must be true.

Each time I get another accusation which doesn't seem to correspond to any experience of mine, my self confidence is shattered.  One such angry accusation came from one of the two people I most love in this world.  I was told that I was self-centered, that no one thought I was funny, and that everyone considered me a pretentious buffoon and was laughing at me behind my back.  This was soul crushing condemnation.  For weeks I shambled around like a zombie, trying to make sense of the idea that everything I knew about myself was wrong.

My most recent ex-wife has been my most vocal detractor.  For a time, she was posting video after video of an expert in malignant self-love in order to prove to the world what a narcissist I was.  She has since backed away from this considerably, but for a time her mission to expose my monstrosity rivaled the accusations of my first wife in its persistence and passion.  

I turned to what Facebook friends I have left.  I'm sure it seemed as though I was fishing for verification that I was not a monster, but that isn't at all what I intended.  I was actually looking for cool-headed validation of the accusations.   But none came.  All I got were suggestions that I should get the negative people out of my life. 

I thought about my detractors.  I noticed a pattern that had eluded me before.  Most of them suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder  (it seems I draw these people to me like a magnet.)  But every one of them had a horrible self image. 

I used to have a horrible self image.  When I was a man, I so detested my own existence that the day didn't go by that I didn't think about killing myself at least once.  I considered it a public service.  I used to hang out a lot with people who hated themselves as much as I hated myself.  But those days are gone.  Now that I'm a woman,  I actually like myself and think my life is wonderful. 

People who dislike themselves cannot, it seems, tolerate someone who doesn't share their disgust.  They are like alcoholics who cannot tolerate a friend who tries to dry out and works incessantly to sabotage their efforts and bring them back to the fold.  I'm sure to them, those who actually like themselves appear to be narcissists.

So until some friend comes to tell me coolly and totally outside of an argument that I am self-centered, I will assume that it is not so.  If they shun me or hunt me down when I shun them to accuse me of thinking that everything revolves around me, I will merely assume that I am getting yet another crazy person out of my life.