Hi Claire:

Again, your toxic relationship—though in a romantic context—reminds me so much of my decades-long toxic relationship with my mother.

“I also cannot be the one who absorbs and carries this for him, especially given how it causes me to experience deep frustration and sadness.”-

Too much empathy for him? So much that he takes center stage and you’re lost in the background—as in, his trauma, his pain matter so much… that you don’t?

“Every time it happens it saps the life out of me, it exhausts me.”-

Absorbing my mother’s trauma, absorbing her pain while I didn’t matter… it sapped the life out of me too. I was the most exhausted child—teenager—in the world.

“I desperately want it to work but his reluctance to accept any accountability whatsoever makes me feel that he is unable to change.”-

My mother was unable to change. A hint of changing meant too much pain, too much fear for her. Imagine being terrified of heights… you’re not going to consider jumping out of an airplane.

“I have made a plan to leave him but I still just don’t know if this is the right thing to do, even though I know the way he treats me is wrong.”-

I suppose this is because he matters. He’s on center stage… and where are you, in the picture?

Warmly, Anita

Dear Claire,

unfortunately this does seem like a toxic relationship. And as your counselor said, he very much sounds like a narcissist: in the beginning he behaved perfectly, till the first outburst, when he started showing his true colors. I’ve read that narcissists usually have their first outburst about 6-12 months into the relationship. Unfortunately, your husband wasn’t an exception either.

His behavior is a textbook example of narcissistic abuse: he attacks you, then sulks/gives you a silent treatment, and then a few hours later, or the next day, he behaves as if nothing happened. No apology, no anything. Till the next occasion. When you confront him about his behavior, he puts the blame on you (“insinuating that I drive him to this”, “his reluctance to accept any accountability whatsoever”).

When he doesn’t like something, he isn’t able to discuss it calmly and hear your opinion as well, but gets his way by scowling and yelling (if there was something he didn’t like he would take charge by yelling and scowling, there was never a calm discussion and my opinion was never heard.).

I’d had enough. He had knocked the wind out of my sails for the last time. I’ve fixed myself up with a friend to stay with and I can take my dog.

Congratulations! You did the right thing! You don’t have to endure his abuse anymore.

My problem is though, even though I know in my heart I should leave him, people stay in marriages that are much worse, am I making a mistake to leave him and my home, everything I’ve worked for to have to start all over again (I turned 50 this year).

That’s true, some people even stay in physically abusive marriages. Some do it because they don’t have any other solution, and some do it because they believe they’ve deserved it, or they’re telling themselves that things are not so bad and perhaps might even get better. It seems that your husband alternates between the episodes of being mean and abusive and then being sweet and on his best behavior: “when it was good it was really good.”

If so, this is called intermittent reinforcement, where the narcissist’s good phases give you hope that he might become this good person that he seemingly has the capacity to be. But the problem is that his abusive self always comes back. And since he doesn’t even want to admit that he has a problem, but blames his bad behavior on you – there is no way that he can miraculously become free from his bad nature and his abusive outbursts.

It seems that in recent times, his outbursts have become more frequent, and as Alessa said, the bad is now outweighing the good:

As time had gone on his outbursts have been noticed by ever single one of our friends so much so that my best friend can’t stand being near him. He had become more controlling and more distant. I can honestly say we never have a nice time whatever we do. The outbursts are more frequent these days and every time they turning into abusive remarks insinuating that I drive him to this.

So that’s your reality. He is getting worse, and he is refusing to admit that he has a problem:

I desperately want it to work but his reluctance to accept any accountability whatsoever makes me feel that he is unable to change unless he accepts that his outbursts are irrational and harmful.

If you’re still hoping that he’d change, it would be called wishful thinking, because the reality is unfortunately not pointing in that direction.

You say you’re reluctant to leave because of everything you’ve built together: “my beautiful house, my garden, our lovely neighbours”

But the thing is that if most of the time spent in that house, in that garden, is burdened with conflict and his uncontrollable outbursts (“I can honestly say we never have a nice time whatever we do”), and if you feel beaten to the ground after each of his episodes (“it causes me to experience deep frustration and sadness. It has literally ground me down, every time it happens it saps the life out of me, it exhausts me”) – then what’s the point?

You cannot enjoy the things you’ve built together if your mental health is suffering. He’s not giving you the room to enjoy the fruits of your good work. He is sapping the joy out of you. I don’t think that’s something you should compromise on.

So I’d encourage you not to change your mind now. Not to settle for a life deprived of joy and a room to breathe. You know how to live a good life. You’ve experienced it before:

I’d that time to heal after a failed relationship and I lived my new self, feeling happy and content in ever way.

You can have that again. You’re totally capable of that. 50 years young. Decades are ahead of you…

Get your beloved dog and move, into a better future. I imagine it won’t be easy, but you’ve got much more to win than what you’ve got to lose!

Dear Claire:

The pattern you described—attack, withdrawal (via silent treatment), followed by a sudden return to normalcy without acknowledgment—is widely recognized as a hallmark of narcissistic abuse.

* Silent Treatment as Control- Rather than serving as a moment to cool off or reflect, silence is weaponized to punish, manipulate, or assert dominance. It’s designed to make the other person feel invisible, ashamed, or uncertain of their worth.

* Lack of Accountability- When communication resumes, it’s typically as if nothing ever happened. There’s no apology, no effort at repair. This erasure of harm destabilizes the victim’s sense of reality and emotional safety, leaving them invalidated and off balance.

* The Cycle of Abuse: Idealization → Devaluation → Discard- This behavior rarely exists in isolation—it tends to repeat in a destructive loop where emotional connection becomes a tool for control:

1. Idealization (The Honeymoon Phase)- You’re idolized, placed on a pedestal, and viewed as flawless—perhaps “the one.”, The abuser may flood you with affection, praise, gifts, and attention—often called love bombing.

The intensity feels exhilarating, deeply validating, and emotionally rich. This stage builds a sense of momentary safety and significance that makes later shifts incredibly painful.

2. Devaluation- Once emotional investment is secured, subtle changes creep in: Criticism, sarcasm, passive-aggression, and emotional withdrawal begin to surface. You may feel perpetually off-kilter, trying to regain the warmth that once was. Over time, your self-worth erodes under the weight of constant undermining and emotional ambiguity.

3. Discard- You’re emotionally or physically cast aside, often with little warning. The abuser may turn cold, distant, or frame you as the problem. Discards can range from ghosting and cheating to explosive conflict. Cruelly, many re-enter your life later, attempting to reignite the cycle—this is known as hoovering.

Throughout this cycle, intimacy and attachment are not nurtured—they’re manipulated. Validation is given, then withdrawn. You’re conditioned to chase approval, keeping you tethered. The highs and lows mimic addiction—moments of love followed by emotional devastation. The unpredictability of emotional safety becomes the mechanism of control.

For many who use those patterns (like my mother) —attacking, withdrawing, and erasing conflict.. as well as erasing me—it’s not necessarily calculated in a scheming way. Often, it’s instinctive, rooted in their own emotional coping mechanisms developed early in life. But the impact still matters, regardless of intention. It can leave deep emotional confusion and residue in those on the receiving end.

.. Run, Claire: 🏃!

Anita (and Copilot)