What A Therapist Does When He’s Dealing With A Narcissist.
A True Story: The artful skill of spotting a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.
I sit down on the sofa first, my husband sits in the seat opposite before standing up to remove his jacket and stare idly around the room looking I know, for somewhere to hang his expensive clothing. I note our therapist clocking this. He takes my husband’s jacket and hangs it on the back of his door.
My husband has shown his hand.
I wonder to myself if our therapist has noticed the first clue of my husband’s character — his unmistakable self-importance. As the three of us have never met before, I know he will be absorbing every cue, both verbal and non-verbal.
I am stiff as a board — my body is tightly wound up; unbridled agony from our 11 years together: heartbreak, tension, and anxiety and trepidation are scrunched up like a ball of old muddied paper. My mind and my soul are heavy with anguish.
When our therapist asks us what has brought us here today, my husband — the love of my life answers coldly —
“Well I think Amelie should tell us as I don’t even know myself.” A disinterested scoff leaves his possession.
