Yesterday, I listened to another lecture about recovery after getting away from a covert narcissist. I can see I've made some progress. I'm not frozen anymore. When I was frozen with shock I wasn't healing, more like staring in horror at the bloody shredded mess of my psyche. I'd flown many tens of thousands of miles over the last few years trying too hard to keep the relationship alive. Sold my own house, left my family and country behind and dropped my artwork contacts: it all seemed like the least I could do to make "" a new home. Instead: there's: mental health issues which damaged my work, no closure, I have no house, he kept all my stuff, and my legal right to even be over there is most likely screwed. Now I guess I start to search among the shreds for pieces to stitch together like a science-fiction alien reassembling itself.