Sometimes leaving the narcissist feels like what I think DIC must feel like. To be sure, I've never had DIC and thus can't speak honestly as to how DIC must feel. But there are certain similarities as far as I can tell. Basically, DIC is a bad ass end stage thing you might come down with after you're already suffering with end stage cancer, or bacterial meningitis, and you've gone septic. Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation perchance you were thinking of other forms of the word DIC. Where even the heroes throw in the towel, shake their heads, and do that thing they never ever do, which is to hope. Cause they have all their Savior Hero shit they can usually call upon, except this time they can't. Cause you don't with DIC. Everyone knows you put your money on the Hail Mary end zone pass and the Prayer, which for the most part doesn't pay off. It's mostly, very, very bad. Like Dragons. Like large Monsters. Or like Harry and his horrible day. Or precisely like Clots. Everywhere your blood moves. We call them strokes or CerebroVascular Accidents if they throw in the brain--Heart Attacks or Myocardial Infarctions (MI) if they throw in the heart--Pulmonary Embolisms or PEs if they throw in the lungs--and DIC if they throw seemingly everywhere at the same time. And at the same time paradoxically, you might also be hemorrhaging. Clots everywhere are almost always bad. Clots and hemorrhage tis a bit of a ghoulish nightmare.
Oh, and then there's Gangrene. It often comes too before or after like the frightening bit in the haunted house It turns those extremities purplishly black. You start looking like the monster yourself. Typically, it's been preceded by something oh-so-benign like Bacterial Meningitis or Hemorrhage or some other unnamed Awfulness with a capital "A." Your organs start to oh-so-beautifully dissolve themselves in the cesspool of typical bacterial overload. Your finger tips blacken as the gangrene chews you up and creeps toward your heart. Above all, you see very clearly that you are in the process of dying. And most people don't see their own death. But with DIC, it doesn't catch you by surprise. No, rather you see your own death creeping up your limb. I'm sure this startles you. You see it like the train on the bridge. And mostly there is no outrunning it. There is no jumping from the train trestle. You are just there powerlessly watching it all happen.
And this is what it feels like to try to escape the narcissist.
Bathing in overwhelmingly endless toxic stew. Beyond the reach of help. Alone in your hospital bed, resembling the monster yourself, waiting for death's company. That's leaving the narcissist, on a bad day.
