I'm convinced that Jay, along with being a recovering alcoholic crackhead, has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). How I wish I'd realized this two and a half years ago. It might've saved me thousands of dollars, a lot of drama, and my heart. When I first stumbled upon articles about NPD, it was definitely a EUREKA! moment. I won't go into particulars but the site Quora has tons of info on the subject and although they can be a bit Narcissist-happy, it's been enlightening.

I'm attempting the No Contact solution with Jay, but I know that as long as he wants something from me, he won't hesitate to call. Yes, I've blocked him several times; it never takes. I want to ask this question to Quorans: Why do I miss him so much? Intellectually I know it's all about the NPD formula of How to Reel 'Em In...How to Get Them Addicted to You...etc., but my heart and soul don't give a shit about NPD. My heart and soul want the exciting, gorgeous, brilliant man who is never boring. Jay can be emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive. But he's never boring.

I try to ignore his occasional calls, but if he catches me at a 'bad' time (lonely, bored and nostalgic), I'll pick up. Today was such a day. The call was simultaneously satisfying and a slap in the face reminder of why I need to let him go. In the space of 5 minutes he manages to tell me he needs a favor, then proceeds to more or less call me a dumb slut. This unprovoked and unwarranted insult leads me to say, “Goodbye Jay. Go fuck yourself”, and hang up. For a smart guy, he's pretty stupid as to how to get things from me. Sober Jay, anyway. Cracky Jay knows exactly how to get anything he wants from me. Sober Jay lacks the humility and addiction-driven need of Cracky Jay. He's an unstoppable force with everything going for him, and he knows it. He's quite the arrogant prick.

I long to shove NPD down his throat, but reading about the horrific childhoods (that lead to the disorder, and his qualifies), deep-down loathing, and the poor prognosis for treatment would accomplish little besides making me feel a moment of vindictive spite. As much as I can't deal with the Jay of today, I couldn't endanger his sobriety with unwelcome revelations into his psyche. I will also never warn him of the relapse a psychic foresees around Halloween. I pray she's wrong. Before I learned that there's little chance of “fixing” someone with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, I thought I could save him. When he was using, I enabled him way too much, I admit. But I also attempted to get him into rehab, into therapy, and out of the crack-den of his own making. During the sporadic periods of sobriety, I drove him to job interviews, 'loaned' him money for his legal troubles, and was basically on-call 24/7. I always had his back. Always.

To be reminded that he thinks I'm not very bright and to have him throw my sluttiness in my face....it breaks my heart for the zillionth time. I might know what he is, but believe me, I know what I am as well: a gullible weakling who stupidly fell in love with a man who doesn't even exist. Is it any wonder I eschew emotional attachments and keep a distance from men who might be more than a penis with a guy attached?