Narcissistic War Won: Failure to Protect

By Sienna Sage

This was a journey of mental illness, game playing, and deceit, turning into a journey of acceptance, insight, forgiveness, and eventual peace. Some good from a bad situation
I am strong. I am fierce. I am a survivor. I am me. I won the hardest game of my life by refusing to play anymore, and I have never been happier since.
I continue to use my experience to empathise and support people through their journeys through this minefield called life, to educate and inform others of their own strength and power to reject narcissism and game-playing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665587495

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© 2021 . All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/18/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8750-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8749-5 (e)

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CONTENTS

Dedications

Chapter 1 Reluctantly Meeting the Therapist

Chapter 2 Session Two

Chapter 3 Working on Me

Chapter 4 The Awakening

Chapter 5 Therapy Flashbacks and Work

Chapter 6 The Fight

Chapter 7 The Fallout

Chapter 8 The Betrayal

Chapter 9 The Write-Off

Chapter 10 Fast-Forward Four Years

Epilogue

Author’s Notes

Synopsis

DEDICATIONS

To my rock, thank you for supporting me and believing in me and all my crazy ideas.

To my children, thank you for your inspiration and motivation.

To my parents, thank you for the lessons. I am stronger for them. I forgive you both as i will not hold the hurt any longer.

To the love of my life, who loves me unconditionally, even when I couldn’t love myself. Your support never wavers, and I will love you until the day I die. Thank you for sharing this crazy journey with me and our babies. You are the best husband and dad we could ever ask for. TL4EVA.

To my children: You gave me a reason for wanting to do better. You are my strength, and without you both I would not be the woman I am today. Mummy loves you more than Jelly Tots.

To my therapist: I feel honoured to have worked with you throughout all this. Thank you for showing me true, unconditional, positive regard when I couldn’t provide it for myself, and providing a safe space for me to share. Most importantly, thank you for demonstrating and teaching me how to be a good therapist. I will treasure this journey forever.

CHAPTER 1

RELUCTANTLY MEETING

THE THERAPIST

I took a deep breath in the cold November air and watched my warm breath mist in front of my face before I pressed the buzzer.

What am I even doing here? Today’s the day! I was dreading this! Funny how they never told me it was a prerequisite on the university course to complete forty hours personal therapy so I can graduate as a therapist myself in a couple of years. Surely I should have been told about this before the course started. Would it have changed my mind? Probably not! I wanted to be a therapist, and I thought I’d be bloody good at it.

Come on up to the first floor. His voice crackled over the intercom in the friendly tone I had spoken to on the phone two weeks earlier at the insistence of my university tutor.

I pushed the big, heavy, blue door inwards and shut it carefully, taking every second I could out of the fifty minutes I had to pay for. Avoidance, resistance, and defiance surged from me in anxious sweat. I moved slowly until the thirteen short steps finished.

I looked up and saw the friendly face of my therapist, John.

Hi. Pleased to finally meet you. Come on in, he said cheerfully.

This didn’t melt my mood, although he seemed nice and was trying to put me at ease. I had two children at home and already had a mound of assignments and administrative work to do for this course, and this was an inconvenience and a cost – while surviving on student finance – that I just didn’t need.

Hiya, I said as unenthusiastically as I could. Where do you want me to sit?

He gestured with a wide arm to a bouncy chair, like a z chair with a big, bright-blue throw cover with Indian-inspired patterned cushions. I sat on the edge on the chair, like a cat ready to pounce, run away, and hide. He sat and poured us some water, seemingly oblivious of my flight instincts.

Personally, I would prefer a tea in this weather, but I remembered a lecture about not serving hot drinks to clients in case they throw them at you. I nodded a small thank you as I took a little sip of the supplied water.

So please, sit back, get comfy, and you tell me why you’re here today to see me, he quietly said.

As I told you on the phone two weeks ago, I need forty hours of personal therapy for my university course signed off. So here I am, I quickly and bluntly snapped. Defiance and resistance at a new high.

OK, yes, I remember you telling me that on the phone. But you have forty hours with me, so what would you like to discuss today? he replied with a wide, welcoming, comforting smile.

It seemed the nicer he was to me, the more I rejected it. Nothing really. I’m only here as I have to be.

I’m fine; I don’t need therapy; I’m the one who wants to help