Section 1.1: Captivating Through Melodrama

I composed this microfiction in 2013, and I believe the opening was inspired by the introduction of Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye." Recently, while exploring the first book in Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series, I noticed a similar dramatic flair in its beginning. It's fascinating how melodramatic figures easily capture our attention; many articles on platforms like Medium adopt this attention-grabbing style, drawing us in like moths to a flame.

As writers, we all seek recognition. A captivating hook is essential to grab our audience's attention and maintain it. Fiction allows us the freedom to weave enchanting narratives, much like Scheherazade in "Arabian Nights," who spun tales to save herself from a grim fate. Yet, it’s disheartening to consider that her ultimate reward was a life intertwined with a killer—her story is a stark reminder of toxic and abusive dynamics.

Section 1.2: Insights from Narcissistic Abuse Recovery

In recent years, as I've become more aware of my own codependency in the context of narcissistic abuse, I've revisited the fiction and poetry I created in my twenties. To my dismay, I’ve discovered traces of codependency and experiences of narcissistic abuse embedded throughout my work. While these connections may not be immediately apparent, our life experiences undoubtedly seep into our writing, both consciously and unconsciously, shaping our narratives in myriad ways.

In "Small Problems of a Small Person," the protagonist embodies codependency by relying on her family to evade responsibility for her own life. By claiming that others depend on her, she sidesteps the need to cultivate her own talents and abilities. A poem I wrote around the same time, titled "Lost," echoes similar sentiments:

Lost in trivial things I've said

Lost in lives that aren't my own

Lost in stories that I've read

Lost in your critical tone

Evading my own reality like it’s a disease

Apologies for being vague,

My life feels dull and unremarkable,

Unable to compete with others' highs,

What secret do they hold to living fully?

Waiting for some truth to surface,

Words bouncing forth in a rhythmic dance,

Desiring to stand out yet longing to belong,

Perhaps I'd prefer to soar like a bird.

Time slips away, a precious resource,

While I fabricate excuses,

Why can’t I pursue my own path?

Isn’t that what I truly desire?

At this juncture in my life, I sensed something was amiss, though I lacked the vocabulary to articulate it. Additionally, a family member who exhibited narcissistic traits was quite content to keep me ensnared in their orbit, preventing me from spreading my wings.

The truth about codependence is that it requires participation from both parties; each remains in the relationship for various reasons, even if the narcissist often appears to be the sole antagonist. While narcissists are far from innocent in their abusive behaviors, I have come to view the suffering I experienced as a catalyst for personal growth. It serves as a clarion call for me to cultivate an independent identity and a life that isn’t solely devoted to enabling, comforting, or fixating on the actions of my narcissistic counterpart—much like the melodrama discussed earlier.

Thank you for taking the time to read my reflections!