Pimps for Parents and Lovers

Having a narcissist for a parent or a romantic partner is exactly the same as having a pimp.
You are prostituted into a fear based, (as well as guilt and obligation) slavery, which means you are brainwashed into thinking your normal self-helping behaviours are not as important as taking care of  some adult 4 year old, who can turn emotionally or physically violent at any moment. 
Walking on eggshells in a no-win life sentence scenario.
They need you. It’s wonderful to be needed, when actually it’s an icky con-job.
Mine was a ten year sentence with a woman with the gene for Huntington’s disease. I discovered later at the family therapists that I was hunted, a nurturing man who had successfully sought professional help and extricated himself from a narcissist single parent by age 14, I knew what to look for.
But just as cults and religions and pimps target intelligent educated people in transition who are suffering the pain of loneliness and rejection, offering the soothing pain relief of instant relationship,  I was vulnerable due to suffering from the cognitive distortion of ‘Life must be convenient and comfortable or I can’t stand it’. I was ripe for the picking. 
I was approached in a coffee shop, while reading Robert Bly and commenting in my journal. She was beautiful, sexy, well dressed and interested in me; she found me fascinating. A coffee date led to dinner led to incredible uninhibited sex, led to relationship to a planned cohabitation. Art school, a lifelong dream, was also planned, as her father, a retired millionaire farmer, would buy the house we would live in. I applied and my portfolio was accepted. The hook was well set.
One day she announced the results of genetic testing (2 years previous to meeting me as it turned out), a 95% chance of a degenerative brain disorder, for which she would need constant care, after onset, until she died, usually about 10 years of decline of motor and cognitive function.
In the meantime, our free time, quality lifetime, would be spent fundraising for research for Huntington’s Disease. I and my art colleagues and professors donated half a million bucks in art to the cause which was sold for a pittance at auctions to conservative rich Rotarians, sucking off the disease and looking good doing it. I volunteered doing art as therapy with Huntington’s sufferers in long term care facilities.
During this time I not only did not meet my own emotional needs, my relationship had gone into the usual withholding sex mode of manipulation.
Later the therapist talked about this typical narcissist scenario describing my relationship before I even told him. A relationship is unconditional he said, this was a business deal, a contract that I broke by being self helping. 
I had gained 50 lbs was depressed and anxious, panicked all the time on eggshells waiting for that other shoe of emotional abuse to drop, typically at Christmas time and Sundays. My sweetheart, a woman that I genuinely loved and cared for was in horrendous emotional pain and lashing out at me and it was all my doing. Not bringing in enough money, not fund raising enough, not volunteering enough; a pimp tuning up her ho, essentially.
So I did some things for me. Quit smoking. Eating better. Bought a bicycle and rode constantly. Built a digital studio and learned how to use it, creating a living and relationships and art practice in secret on the net.
One day the shoe finally dropped, the eggshells no longer avoided as the love of my life announced that I was to move out of my home and studio. Fred, her minister at the new age church, Science of Mind, was to replace me. There had been ongoing fucking for years, as it turned out, her and this family friend that had come with her as part of the package. Turns out that as an industrial psychologist he was providing the cult recruiting training for the church members recruiting their vulnerable partners.
The family therapist I sought out as the hospital, as well as the social worker for the Huntington’s Society, both had similar advice: run.
Non contact, find nicer friends, learn REBT.
Talk to strangers, ask for what I want, which is the real protection against the future inevitable narcissist attacks. When you ask for relationship deepening, they leave or fire you, simply because they have nothing to offer relationship, only a business deal.
I was taught to seek my ‘value and worth’ by appreciating that I have value and worth simply because I exist and am able to create some sort of interesting and satisfactory life for myself.
Here I am 20 years later recovering from a stroke, vulnerable to narcissist pimp-contracts on all sides, from caretakers at the hospital recruiting for their religion to recovery gurus at the gym selling their pyramid products, to women (?) in far away lands on the net sending naked pics of someone, for some reason. As long as I stick with knowing that life is rarely comfortable, it doesn’t have to be, others likes and dislikes only describe them and others probably aren’t going to do the ‘right thing’ because I don’t rule the universe, I’ll be reasonably ok.
Shitty things happen to nice people and nice things to shitty people. Accept, accept, accept.