Hey Super-Parents,
I’m going to be really vulnerable with you today.
There is a hard truth we don’t always talk about: The abuse often doesn't stop. No matter how many therapy sessions we attend, how many retreats we go to, or how much "wellness" work we do—a narcissist remains a narcissist. They are like addicts, constantly craving the "fix" of your reaction, your validation, or your submission.
For a long time, I was a shield. Then, I became a fence. Now, I have built a fortress.
From the top of these walls, I can look down and see the abuser for what they really are: small. They push against the stone, they scream into the wind, and they eventually move on to a new "supply" when they realize they can’t break through.
But here is the vulnerable part: Even when the walls are impenetrable, the sound still travels. Inside the castle, there is an echo.
That echo hits the old wounds. It’s the phantom pain of a battle scar. It reminds us of the trauma, and for a moment, it hurts just as much as it did years ago. It’s valid to visit that place of pain—we aren't robots—but we cannot afford to live there. We are no longer immune to the pain; it just doesn't get to control the castle anymore.
Why do they keep pushing even when you don't respond?
Psychology tells us that when a narcissist loses control, they suffer a "Narcissistic Injury." To protect their fragile ego, they often go into an Extinction Burst—a massive escalation of abusive behavior intended to force you back into your old, reactive role.
They aren't "winning" when they scream louder; they are panicking because their old tools no longer work on the "New You." The echo you feel inside is just the sound of their desperation hitting your boundaries.
To release the "echo" of pain when that echo starts bouncing around inside your fortress and the old wounds start to throb, here is how you release the pressure:
- Somatic Grounding (The "Shake Off"): Trauma lives in the body. When you feel that internal "tightness" from a high-conflict email or interaction, literally shake your arms and legs. It tells your nervous system that the "threat" is over and you are safe in the present.
- The "Guest House" Visualization: Treat the pain like a visitor. Acknowledge it: "Hello, old hurt. I see you're back today." Give it a seat, but don't give it a bedroom. Remind yourself: "I am visiting this feeling, but I do not live here anymore."
- The 24-Hour Rule: When the echo is loud, our instinct is to "fix" it or defend ourselves. Commit to 24 hours of silence. Usually, by the next day, the echo has faded, and you realize the fortress held just fine without you doing a thing.
You are doing a brave, incredible job. You are standing up to a cycle of abuse that likely goes back generations. The walls might have scars, but you are the one who holds the keys now.
How do you handle the "echo" on the days when it feels a little too loud? Let's support each other in the comments.
Next Step: Would you like me to help you draft a specific "Fortress Mantra" you can use during those high-conflict moments to stay grounded?