The Narcissists of Azkaban
How a narcissist can suck hope and happiness from even the strongest of wizards.
“It was as if I’d never feel joy again.” In Harry Potter, it was Ron Weasly who said that line to describe what it felt like to be the target of a Dementor, defined on www.harrypotter.fandom.com as one of “the foulest creatures that walk this earth… they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them…Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you.”
That was exactly how I felt when my new boss revealed his true colors soon after I’d signed a contract to work for him for two years.
I’d been duped again. Despite my thirty-year experience with my ex-husband, I’d fallen back into the habit of thinking that people are basically good and look out for one another. I had red flags with this guy, as I had red flags with my ex-husband, but my natural optimism and compassionate way of being — my Patronus (what a wizard uses to combat a Dementor) — was weak and had been overpowered by the dementor/narcissists in my midst. As a result, the depression that ensued had me emotionally crippled for months.
I stumbled upon the notion of narcissists playing the role of dementor when my son recently binge-watched, for the umpteenth time, all seven Harry Potter movies. As he watched, I too got hooked back into one of my favorite movie series. This time, the dementors struck a different, enlightening chord with me as I watched and contemplated my current life situation.
I had moved myself and my kids from our home state of Wisconsin to Texas to finish writing and finally publish my memoir. My memoir is the story of my childhood tragedy that shaped my life decisions and subsequent marriage to a closet/vulnerable narcissist. I had been working on the book with a book writing coach for over three years. I made the move with the expectation that the new scenery would shift the last little bit I needed to finish the book. I’d resumed my work as an optometrist with a new job in Texas that I’d taken to support my babies and me until I could find my way fully into a writing career.
Soon after starting the job, I found myself living in an emotional, Azkaban-like prison of my own making precipitated by my classic narcissistic boss. I’d had so much hope with the move. I’d been warned that it can take a few years to feel comfortable after such a big move, and I felt confident that I could thrive through that period, but soon after we arrived, after starting that job, a heavy depression settled in.
I didn’t want to have any bad feelings about my new surroundings, I intended to keep an open “it’s just different, not bad,” sense about the town we moved to that is immediately south of Austin. I picked this town because it would be the most convenient spot for my job as a floating doctor for five of my boss’s twelve optometry practices. This town was not my coveted Austin, but I’d hoped it was close enough to trigger the inspiration I expected from the move.
However, right smack in the middle of my new life in Texas was a Dementor. A dementor who scoffed at my efforts to be the best doctor I could be for his practices, a dementor who belittled and insulted my decades of experience, a dementor who chiseled away at my pride in my work and respect from my co-workers. Indeed I felt as though, “I would never feel joy again.” Every morning my heart was heavy with dread to be going into his offices where I knew I couldn’t trust anyone, where I knew attitudes toward me were tainted as a subtle smear campaign was in full force to help support the passive-aggressive tactic he employed of cutting back my hours to the point of serious financial stress.
Every week I’d re-read his two-year contract trying to figure out how I could get out of it until I finally hired an attorney who took my $900 and told me I was basically out-of-luck. If I wanted to leave, I’d have to pay him $2,500 while having an almost impossible time finding work outside his obnoxious restrictive covenant. The attorney felt there was no judge that would allow him to uphold his contract, but it would take several more of my quickly dwindling dollars to pay for her help to challenge him in court. Something I was not willing to do.
The peace, hope, and happiness we had expected in our newly adopted state was quickly drained out of the air around us. We began to resent the town, resent the people, and resent the move all because of the dementor in our midst.
The despair became almost insurmountable until a little voice deep inside me said, you’ve been here before and you got out. You can do it again. I got out of my marriage that was built solely on mind fuckery by gathering up all that was good and strong within myself: my integrity, my optimism, and my love for myself and others. I did it before and I could do it again. I encapsulated all that was good within me to build my Patronus Charm and cast it at my Dementor. Using diplomacy and grace, I pointed out to him — with his brainwashed staff as a witness — that his cutting back my hours and lying to his staff that it was my choice to cut back because I was giving notice, was disrespectful to me and to his staff who had grown to enjoy working with me despite the air of innuendo the dementor had perpetrated around me.
It worked. Not only did I pull myself out from under his wicked spell, with his staff paying attention and, I believe, his fear of my integrity, he paid me $10,000 to leave his company.
He said he paid me out of his concern for my being a single mother, which I could’ve bought if I hadn’t drawn on my extensive life experience to quickly identify him as a narcissist and if I hadn’t also been privy to the knowledge of lawsuits brought against him by previous doctors in his employ.
I am blessed and deeply grateful to my ex-husband for his tragic psychiatric shortcomings because, without my experience with him, I know it would have taken me much longer to realize what was happening to me. Because of my marriage, I knew all too well the danger of hanging out with a dementor for too long. As the Harry Potter website aptly describes, if they “feed on you long enough, (they will) reduce you to something like itself…soulless and evil,” and I have too much life to live with my children counting on me to lead them to ever allow that to happen.
When I write about my experience with narcissists, I have two primary intentions. One is to help victims of narcissistic abuse feel seen and heard, and the second is to help others understand and become true advocates for the victim. When someone is under the spell of a narcissist, it can be almost impossible for them to find a way out if they haven’t someone impervious to, or at least not targeted by the narcissistic perpetrator. Someone who can truly understand the victim, not judge them, and not inadvertently perpetuate the abuse with their ignorance. It is always my ultimate hope that more people become educated about the complicated personality of narcissists, the subtleties, and the potentially devastating effect of their abuse. I hope this article has done that with yet another perspective on how they infiltrate our society. Thank you for reading!
