16. Chapter 12: This is an Emergency

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Chapter 12 This is an emergency. Nick and I had maintained our friendship all throughout university. My housemates knew him as my friend for years, coming around whenever I had parties. In my fourth year, I don't remember how or why, but suddenly the dynamic changed again. One night he had come over for dinner with a group and ended up staying the night. And just like that, he started coming over every few days. My housemates began to see him as my partner. This time, things were different between Nick and me. In our second year of school, our relationship had been quite casual and short. But in my fourth year, this time, he was more attentive. He delivered me thoughtful gifts and confided in me that he always thought I was the one. We were regularly sleeping over at each other's houses and bringing takeaway meals for dinner. Nick said he had to work at the campus pub on Valentine's Day. So instead he came over a few nights before. I made him a pop-up card with accordion style folding and a pun about him being my love bug. We were still dating a month later when it was St. Patrick's Day weekend, a huge holiday in the Canadian university scene. It is one of the few days of the year when it's socially acceptable to drink from 10 in the morning. We called them pancake keggers because we'd eat pancakes and drink beer. I was at his house on Saturday night of that weekend because we were planning how to celebrate St. Patrick's Day on the Monday. He told me that he loved me, and I went home from his house floating on cloud nine, so giddy and joyful. After so many short-term, quick relationships, building a relationship like this with a longtime friend finally felt like I was building something serious. Nick had a long-term ex-girlfriend named Claire, who he'd told me he'd broken up with in the first year of university. She was also in the Bachelor of Education program with me, studying to be an educator. Because I would hang around with him and his roommate Zach, it often felt like I was one of the boys. When he confided in me about his problems with Claire, he said she was crazy, psycho, addicted to cocaine, and stalking him. Claire was very skinny and looked like she was struggling, so his stories were believable. I bought into his narrative of her being unstable. Why was she so obsessed with Nick and constantly getting in the way of my relationship with him? Why couldn't she just let him go? According to Nick, they broke up years before, but she kept turning up at his house. Why was she doing that? He clearly liked me, not her. Throughout the entire four years of school, Claire and I had a lot of university classes together. But while we had many mutual friends, we never spoke during classes. If we found ourselves at the same table amongst friends in a class, sometimes we wouldn't even make eye contact or smile at each other. I didn't like her because she was causing Nick so many problems. I assume she didn't like me because I was so close with her ex. He said I should keep it a secret that he and I had this special connection and were romantic together, or it would break her. Since Nick had already said that Claire was unstable, I went along with his suggestion. On St. Patrick's Day, Nick had a shift at the campus pub in the morning and afternoon, but we planned to see each other in the evening. By four in the afternoon, I was already drunk, sitting in a bar with the rest of our friends. We'd been texting back and forth all day, but he was slow to respond with vague answers. I was wondering why he wasn't replying, but hoping it meant nothing. That's when Zach turned to me. Hey Alex, there's Nick. We watched him walk into the bar, but he was holding hands with another girl. He had told me that he was going to be at work at that time, but he wasn't. He was with a third girl, not me and not Claire, someone with whom I didn't even know he had a relationship, Tori. But she wasn't a stranger. I knew her from a volunteer program I'd done the year before. Because Nick had told me to keep our relationship a secret, no one knew we were dating. So to everyone else, it just seemed like I was emotionally unstable or super drunk when my eyes began brimming with tears. I watched across the bar and saw Nick and Tori holding hands and then saw them lean in for a kiss. It wasn't a random kiss. From the way they looked at each other, I could tell that they had an intimate connection. Was he dating her as well? I was so confused. I got up from the table and quickly strode out of the bar, thinking Nick would follow me, but he didn't. It was like he pretended he didn't see me. But we locked eyes as I passed him, and I know he did. When I look back now, I wonder why I didn't confront him in the moment. It was probably a combination of things. I was in shock. I was drunk, and I didn't feel confident enough to speak up for myself. I headed back to my house sobbing for the rest of the night. I was so confused. How could he do this to me? How could he lay in bed telling me I was his soulmate and he always knew I was the one? And then less than 48 hours later be with another girl. By the next morning, I was spiraling out of control. Knowing what I now know about hangovers inducing panic attacks, I am sure the alcohol did not help. I couldn't eat and couldn't stop crying. I was just confused. Who was Nick? He wasn't the person I knew anymore. Why would he want to hurt me so badly? The way he'd betrayed me romantically was hurtful, but what was most hurtful was the friendship he'd thrown away. He wasn't some random boy, he was Nick. Why would all of this be worth ruining our friendship? I was upset, but also consumed with worry about what everyone else would think. I was worried that everyone on campus knew and that I was the laughing stock of my classmates. Again, I'd been triggered into an out-of-body experience from heartbreak, but this one was different. This wasn't just heartbreak, this was confusion and chaos too. I had an essay due for a history class that week, but no part of me could sit down and stop writing without hyperventilating and crying. I went straight to calling my sister. After holding space for me for over an hour, she said, Alex, I'm worried about you. You should go to counseling. I don't want to am. What if I have a bigger breakdown later on and I need another session, but I've already used all of mine up. Then what? Alex, talk to them. See if they can make an exception and give you more sessions. You need to go there. I called the university mental health office, and when they asked me the question, is this an emergency? I burst into tears, saying it for the first time. This is an emergency. Because I said it was an emergency, I got to see a counselor that day instead of managing it on my own and waiting on a wait list. The main campus mental health office was fully booked as usual. And so the university sent me to take a taxi out to the West Campus, where the Bachelor of Education faculty was located. This was the only space where they had an available counselor. Her name was Sarah. This was the woman who changed my life. West campus was empty. The main building had a long, vacant, wide hallway with big floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The combination of dark wood with bright vinyl orange furniture and design seemed like it came out of the 1960s. The faculty of education was very small, and all of the students were off campus at the time on their practicums. Because of this, Sarah had a large window of free time to be able to see me. Unlike all of the previous counselors who were so time-crunched. From the minute I walked through the door, I felt like I was her number one priority. It felt like I mattered to her. She seemed less overworked and overwhelmed and more available to give me the tools and resources that I needed to succeed. She sat me down and she stayed with me for over an hour and a half, long after her workday was over. She stayed with me until she felt confident that I was okay. It felt like there were so many things going wrong that I couldn't keep them clear in my head and jump from one thing to the other. She pulled out a piece of paper and put it in front of me. Together, we wrote a list of the main issues I was facing and narrowed it down to four. One was definitely Nick. What was going on? What had happened? And how would I process this? The second issue was that I was struggling to scrounge up the cash to pay for my yoga teacher training. My dad had stopped working five years earlier. My mom was financially supporting my sister, me, and my dad, even though they were separated on her own. I felt guilty asking my mom for money for anything. Also, I knew my mom didn't value spending money on yoga. My mom would pay for a formal education at university, but not an education in yoga. And I was scrambling to come up with the money on my own to get myself there. The third issue was my academics. In the chaos of all my partying, I couldn't remember the last deadline I'd met on time, and my grades were plummeting because of it. The last pressing concern was my ongoing conviction that I was suffering from undiagnosed bipolar disorder, something that no counselor had been able to address. I was constantly being referred to the wrong people who weren't helping. I just needed to see the right physician or psychiatrist to diagnose me. I needed a proper referral. The impact of this session was that I felt seen. I felt heard and I felt organized. Seeing all my problems written out on paper and numbered made them so much less overwhelming. No one had ever done this for me before. She'd given me tangible strategies. With her help, all my problems were broken up bit by bit. Together, we'd tackle them as a team. She also said that she could make an exception to the rule of four sessions a year per student since I was so distressed. And she saw me every week until I got better. Sarah helped me sort myself out by giving me a letter to provide to my professors to get extensions on my academic deadlines. She coached me through advocating for myself and made sure it went well. She helped me find a scholarship to pay for my yoga teacher training, sorting out my money issues. And finally, she was confident enough to say as a counselor, I am not qualified as a doctor to diagnose you with bipolar, but I will send you to someone at the university medical clinic who will. This scenario felt somewhat unrelated to her. After all, she'd broken up with him four years before, and we were never friends anyway. One day I got a Facebook message from her, Nick's ex-girlfriend, whom I'd hated, blamed, and talked badly about for years. Gossip travels fast, and I am sure by then she'd heard about what happened between us. Hey, Alex, she wrote. Hi, how are you? She skipped the small talk and dove right into it. I think there is something wrong with Nick, she told me. I heard that he hurt you pretty badly and that you're not in a good state. He hurt me a lot as well. Alex, he's a narcissist. As I sat looking at her, my heart began to soften. No matter what she'd done to Nick, she was just a human being who wanted to be happy just like me. I could feel myself warming up to her with each sip of my coffee. What happened between you? she asked me. I told her the brief version. We dated for a while in second year, then again the past year. I walked in on him with Tori. She looked at me stunned and then asked, Did you know that I was dating him up until the third year of university? What? I asked her. He told me you broke up in the first year. There was no way they could have been dating all that time. But then I remembered the time I'd asked him why, if they'd broken up, was she in his profile picture on Facebook? He said it was because he felt bad for her and she still wanted to be friends. I can't believe that I believed him when he told me that. In hindsight, it was such an obvious red flag. Oh my God, he told you that? No, we were dating until about a year ago, until me and Chelsea connected. Until a year ago. I was with him in second year. That can't be true. He told me that he was single. And who's Chelsea? I asked her. He didn't know that he had another girlfriend for the past year, Chelsea. He told us lies about each other and made us hate each other for a year, but he was sleeping with her at the same time as me, and probably you two. I found this hard to believe. He'd told me all along that Claire was a psycho. I had this idea in my head that she was his crazy ex-girlfriend for years. Could I really trust her on this? Part of me was in shock and having difficulty processing what she was telling me. We only figured it out one day when one of her friends saw me and him out at a party. She reached out to me because she was really struggling. We started to connect the dots and put two and two together. Wait, I asked her, how is this possible? We'd heard he started dating Tori probably at the same time as us, and probably you too. There are many other girls too. She started naming other women from our classes who she'd heard rumors about with Nick. Alex, he is manipulative and a pathological liar. When I heard what happened to you, it started to occur to me. I've been hating and blaming you all this time, when really none of it's your fault. He is the problem, not you. My stomach sank. I didn't know what she was going to say to me during our coffee date, but I never could have predicted this. Obviously, Nick was dating Tori at the same time as me. That much was obvious. But Chelsea and Claire too? How could that be possible? How could one guy date so many women at once in the same university campus, pretend to be monogamous with all of them, and keep everyone around him in the dark? I sat there with my jaw dropped, barely processing the words that I was hearing. I'd been what I thought of as a close friend with this guy for four years and in an on and off romantic relationship during that time. He seemed to be such a good guy. I know it seems hard to believe. There are probably many more girls that we don't even know about. I've struggled with anorexia for years, and I think a lot of it was impacted by the way he name called me fat and body shamed me often. I was in the hospital and spent many years in therapy to recover from this. I suddenly realized that must have been why she was so skinny. Nick had told me it was because she was addicted to cocaine. Claire, I have something weird to ask you, and please don't judge me. Do you have a problem with cocaine? Claire looked confused. I've never tried it. Seriously? I asked her. Yeah, why? Nick told me you were addicted to cocaine. Claire started laughing hysterically now. Alex, this guy is more messed up than I thought. It all just sounded too unbelievable to be true. The story I was fed for so many years was that Claire was a psycho. But I had seen Nick with Tori in the bar, that I knew for sure. And why would he have done that to me if there wasn't some truth to what Claire was saying? Had I not seen him and her with my own eyes, I truly think I wouldn't have believed Claire in that moment because what she was telling me was just so far-fetched. It was just too hard to swallow, but I couldn't deny the truth of what I saw and how it lined up with Claire's story and not Nick's. Claire invited Chelsea to come down and meet us at the coffee shop. We started going through our text messages and lining up dates. Chelsea showed me a text between the two of them when he had gone to her house one morning for brunch a few months before. I realized by looking at the date on the text that he had slept at my house the night before. So he'd probably left my house that morning and walked straight to hers. That was when I knew it had to be true. There was no way she created that text message in that moment. It had to be real. I went to work later that afternoon and operated the front desk of the yoga studio as if nothing was happening. Meanwhile, I couldn't think straight. After the shock wore off, the stories Claire and Chelsea had were comforting. The three of us, all having experienced Nick's abuse, had a special connection that no one else could understand. He had successfully lied to us, abused us, and manipulated us into villainizing each other when really this was no one's fault but his. Nick was the only villain here. Chelsea said to me once, trust me, it's easier to be mad than sad. And she was right. Once I knew what he'd done, I couldn't be sad about it. I was just angry. Anger was easier to hold. Something I did not encourage or condone, but thought was very funny at the time. He furiously texted me later that night. Alex, I'd appreciate if you stopped talking badly about me to your friends. I texted him back. I told them the truth, and I can say what I want, and they can react however they want to. He didn't reply. The movie The Other Woman came out about a month later, and Chelsea, Claire, and I went to see it together. We'd always joked it was based on our lives. We tried to reach out to Tori, the girl I'd seen him in the bar with, tell her the story and save her from all of this, but she was in denial. Of course, he was a master at manipulating. And our messages to her added to the story he probably told her that we were all crazy and obsessed with him. The story he told us as well. And who could blame her? We'd all fallen under his spell at some point, so we understood it. She was in love with him. And when you're in love, as the rest of us knew, you can be blinded from reality. With that girl alliance and that strong bond, I felt better. That changed everything. Up until that point, I thought that there was something wrong with me. I'd internalized this idea that I was unstable or crazy. But having not just one but two other women to confirm that I hadn't completely lost my mind made all the difference. When you're going through narcissistic abuse alone, you feel isolated, confused, and devastated. Especially since to the outside world, your abuser is seen as a good person, and the abuse, therefore, seems unbelievable. But when other people validate your experience, things change. Since our first session, I told my counselor Sarah the Nick and Tori story. We'd been over it several times already. After connecting with Claire and Chelsea, I was looking forward to seeing her again and walking in with sadness still, but also a new clarity, confidence, and understanding. My counselor Sarah agreed and affirmed my reaction, which strengthened me even more. She shared resources with me on narcissistic abuse. This ultimately helped me stop being so hard on myself and blaming myself. She helped me realize that it was not my fault. I debated whether to include or omit the word narcissist in this book when I told this story. As part of my practice of ahimsa, nonviolence, I try to avoid name-calling in general as often as possible. As well, I don't want to contribute to the generalization of the word narcissist and its inappropriate use. According to the FARA Therapy and Trauma Center, using the word narcissist has become a casual and trendy buzzword. However, in the case of the word narcissist in this particular moment, I chose to leave it in the book because it does not come with the intention of name-calling. It comes with the intention of helping other victims of narcissistic abuse recognize, process, and heal from the complex trauma they may have experienced. All humans have narcissistic traits. Sometimes people experience momentary lapses of judgment when they behave more narcissistically and hurt others. When someone who has behaved narcissistically feels empathy, then they are not a narcissist. In contrast, according to Preston Mee, MSBA, and Psychology Today, a pathological narcissist will routinely use destructive narcissistic tactics in order to gain false superiority and exploit relationships. According to Claire Jack, PhD in Psychology Today, narcissistic abuse is defined as emotionally abusive behavior. She further explains when someone has experienced narcissistic abuse, it can take a long time to figure out that there was anything wrong with the way they were treated, especially when the perpetrator was charming, manipulative, and the picture of a wonderful parent, partner, boss, or friend to the outside world. By Claire explaining to me that Nick was a narcissist and giving me awareness around what I'd experienced, she was not trying to call nicknames. She was trying to educate me on what I'd experienced and give me the words and understanding for the things I'd experienced. She taught me about manipulation tactics like gaslighting, which is when narcissists lead you to doubt your memories, thoughts, and understanding. Another thing I'd experienced is love bombing, when Nick showered me with compliments and affection to help me trust him. Triangulation is another strategy of those who manipulate others in this way, which is a technique that involves creating tension or conflicts between people and groups to help the narcissist feel superior. This is what Nick had done by manipulating Claire and me to dislike one another so that we Didn't become friends and realize what he was doing. A common technique of narcissists is called hoovering, which is an attempt by the narcissist to bring the victim back into their control after the victim has set boundaries. This is why education is so important on narcissism, because otherwise, victims can believe that their abuser has changed when they haven't and get drawn into the abuse cycle again. Often, when victims repeatedly enter narcissistic relationships throughout their lives, there might be an issue that they need to resolve within themselves. For example, according to Claire Jack, PhD in Psychology Today, victims might have experienced narcissistic abuse as a child, have low self-esteem, have codependent tendencies, or be naive. Education and awareness around narcissistic abuse, then is key to start to look inwards and understand what is happening within you to begin to heal and attract healthier relationships. Once victims become educated about narcissistic abuse and become aware that they've experienced it, they understand it and are empowered to spot the manipulation, set boundaries, and limit contact with their abusers. So that is why I made the choice to utilize the word narcissist in this book. It is in no way to call Nick names because I hold no resentment to him for what happened to me so long ago. I use the word to help educate other victims of this, shine light on the issue, and empower other victims to heal. I carried anger and resentment towards Nick for a long time. In Sutra 1.33, Patanjali identifies the feeling of animosity as a punya. He explains that none of our meditation practices will work to calm and clear the mind unless we heal our animosity, and he lists four practices for us to do so. The first is friendliness to those who are happy or Maitri. The second is compassion to those who are suffering or karuna. The third is goodwill towards those who are successful or mudita. The last is indifference to those who have harmed us or upeksa. In other words, we have to eliminate jealousy, envy, judgment, and hate. We have to decide that there are no villains in our story and just be neutral, upeksha, or even compassionate, karuna, to those who have hurt us. I wasn't able to forgive Nick at this point, but I was able to befriend Claire and Chelsea. This decision was my first opportunity to put this important element of yoga philosophy into practice. When I attended a Recovery 2.0 retreat with Tommy Rosen in India in 2024, he shared that there are no bad people, just people that are not yet conscious. When people become conscious, their behavior rises to meet their energy. When looking back on this moment, I can appreciate that Nick was not yet conscious. He might never be in this lifetime. And I have to make peace with that reality and focus on fostering consciousness within myself. A few months later, I went away to the yoga teacher training in Mexico, and this was a cornerstone of my healing process. During the Satya circles each day, we had an opportunity for sharing in a safe, non-judgmental space. Our teachers believed that we had to begin to heal our own trauma before we held the container or space in a yoga studio to help heal others. I was still not ready to tell anyone what had happened with Nick, as I doubted whether they'd believe me. At times, I didn't even believe myself. I also couldn't tell them that I thought I had bipolar, as I was still living in shame and stigma. I did bring up the mental health disorders in my family and my fear that if I ever shared my struggles with the world, I'd be stigmatized by others. It was terrifying being so vulnerable in front of a group, but also healing as well.