Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Saturday, February 21, 2015

For anyone who has lived in the shadow of a sociopath…

Life after he/she is gone is a plethora of emotions.  Relief was my first feeling when I walked into my home, which had only recently been vacated by him.  I felt exuberance as my second feeling.  Anger would come to me later when I realized he'd stolen some of my things.

I put him out of my mind, with the exception of the healing process. I had been with my sociopath for seven long years.  I didn't know at the time this would become his label, sociopath.  My own personal in house Hitler had inflicted an immense amount of damage.  I wasn’t an informed participant which made it much more harrowing.  He captured my mind under the pretense of love.

My new life without him was truly a blessing.  I thought, “This is going to be easy!”  I believed he would leave me alone, as any normal person would.  He hadn’t in the past, but I thought this breakup would be different. I attempted to cut off all contact, and I still trusted that a minute part of him was a rational person.  I was wrong.

He insisted on contacting me and had a myriad of excuses for doing so.  They were his attempts at manipulation.  There were messages of longing, loving, missing me and of course, flattery.  I recognized his endeavors to suck me back into his sick and twisted world.  I refused to fall for his games.  I also knew he never loved me and had used me as only someone like him can.  He is incapable of love.  Each time he sent a message, it set me back.  I was traumatized all over again.  This was deliberate.  They know what they're doing! When I quit responding, he contacted family members.  He started passing messages through them.  He shared information he wanted them to pass along to me.  They had no idea he was forming his triangle which is what people such as him do.  He was still manipulating everyone around him, although they couldn't see it.  His declarations of innocence were propaganda and spoon fed to anyone who would listen.

On a personal note, I attempted to explain to family members what he was doing.  My pleas for understanding went unheeded by only a couple.  After all, they had never lived with the sociopath and had only witnessed what he chose to reveal to them.  Maybe they had no idea how painful it was for me while they remained in contact with him.  I expected unabashed loyalty, because that’s how I am.  That’s one of my qualities that allowed him to take a stronghold in my life.  If I care about you, I will die defending you.  The other quality is assuming everyone is a reasonable person, he’s not.

While you're still participating in the triangulation, it’s hurtful to the survivor.  Exes stalk through children and various other sources.  It’s never okay, and if you allow him in, he gets a win.  That's the only time he has a real feeling, and it's his thrill!  The messages you have just relayed, have most likely already been addressed by me.  How can he appear to be a victim, unless he can vilify the survivor?  If you weren't contributing to his mind games, I could move forward and heal at a quicker pace. 

I don't know if people understand that by acknowledging the sociopath or abuser, they invalidate the feelings of those who are in his shadow, and it's considered a betrayal.  Each occurrence is a physical blow which takes me back to a time when he was controlling my life completely. So, if you find yourself cut out of my life or another person’s, it’s because we have to save ourselves.  Our minds have been their playground for some time.  It’s not personal, it’s our attempt to hold onto the thinly strung fragments of our sanity.  

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

This is shared via verbalabuse.com and is an amazing insight regarding verbal abuse.


This is a powerful perspective on why some women stay, at least for a
while, with a verbal abuser who will not leave nor do the hard work of change. Of course, there are other reasons; most commonly, it is to protect a child or children from being alone with an angry and unpredictable parent. [Previously published in a past newsletter]

The story that follows adds so much to understanding the fear people have in the presence of irrational behavior— verbal abuse.

A beautiful young woman, not yet thirty called me crying from fear. "Does being so afraid to leave mean that I am really, really abused?" she asked.

She was about to brave the freezing winter winds and eminent snow to get away while her abusive husband was not around. This was her window of opportunity. After talking with her a few minutes, I realized the verbal abuse she endured was truly horrific. To just call it extreme would be downplaying her experience. In those few minutes, I also realized how very smart, articulate and amazing she was. I asked her, "Would you someday, send me a note about what you just told me? I know it will help others to understand the fear the craziness generates. In the middle of that very same night, safely ensconced in a cozy and secret place, she sent me the following email, to help others.

"For those who compare living with a verbal abuser to being a Prisoner of War, I can tell you that it's not even close. Being a Prisoner of War is actually easier. At least, when you are a Prisoner of War, you are taken against your will. You KNOW that you are living with the enemy. You KNOW that they are lying to you. You KNOW that they are feeding you propaganda, and you can mentally fight it. Verbal abusers are far more sinister because they befriend you, win your heart, and gain your trust.

I have never been a P.O.W., but I have been to war. I have fallen asleep to the sound of machine gun fire each night. I have worked in buildings peppered with holes from mortar rounds. I have walked through mine fields. I have been trained to keep my wits during terrorist attacks. But, leaving the man, that I believed was my soul-mate, is BY FAR the scariest thing that I have ever done!—Veteran, US Air Force
Yes, she had been in the Air Force, had slept under fire, and she is
quite brave. I'll always remember that everyone has his or her own time to stay or go. Sharing this message is one way to promote understanding throughout the world.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

It Must be Love

I was in the process of a lengthy divorce, and my house had sold in one day.  I was packing when I received notice that personal property appraisers would be coming through and I was to stop the packing process.  This left me in a quandary.  I had over 2000 square feet to box up and move in a very limited amount of time. 

I walked out my back door enjoying the sunshine and wandered my back yard.  It was early spring and the bulbs were peaking up from their hiding places in the soft soil. Their green shoots were reaching for the sun waiting expectantly to burst into colorful blooms.  I was going to miss my home and the beautiful gardens that I had cared for and created with love.  The memories came flooding back.  So many wonderful years in this home.  I could almost hear the pitter patter of feet running across the patio, echoing from years gone by.

I walked past the pond and watched the gold fish that I had never expected to survive surface, their mouths opening and closing as if to bode me farewell. They watched me in anticipation of the flakes of food I tossed into the water.  So many memories were assaulting me.  I gazed at the fruit trees with their buds barely visible.  I thought of the time I spent picking the berries that grew in rows along the back fence.  I remembered the hours of fun our kids and grandkids had spent in the pool.  It was now green with algae and I wondered if the new owners would know how to care for it.

It was all lost now.   I walked the brick paths of the little English garden and I cried.  There was both pain and happiness in my little piece of heaven now.  I loved the feel of the rustic fence that was bound by twine.   Twigs and sticks were imprinted in my mind as they stood proudly against the backdrop of my  garden. 
        It now was time to move forward towards a new life I thought as I walked back towards the house.  I needed to find myself in the present and quit looking back to the past.  I knew it was okay to be sad for what was and that wallowing in my recollections for a time, was okay.

            At this point Seth and I had been seeing each other for a few months.  I was becoming anxious.  There had been delay after delay.  I called and asked him, “How am I going to pack an entire household and find a new place in a couple of weeks’ time?”  It didn’t seem plausible given the time constraints.

       Seth knocked on my door later that same afternoon.  We sat in my comfortable and colorful living room and Seth suggested that I should move in with him. To me it seemed the perfect temporary solution at that time.  I was crazy about this man who had embedded himself into my life.  We molded well and he was both accommodating and loving.           
     I rented storage units and resumed with my packing.  I still had no idea how I was going to get it completed on time.  Seth came up with another idea that worked well for me; he suggested that I finish storing what I needed, and turn the rest over to my ex-husband to complete.  After all Seth asked me, “Why are you solely responsible?”  He had a valid point, and there began my ten years of hell. 

I would later see that his thought processes are not the norm.  His logic defied all logic, and he was hypocrisy at its finest.  His twisted way of thinking knew no bounds and amounted to skewing facts and circumstance.  This has been a wild ride.  Don’t get me wrong, I did appreciate his suggestion at the time.


My walk into the flames…


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