By Ox Drover
After reading Steve Becker’s article yesterday, I commented that most of the articles here on Lovefraud that could be entitled “1001 Things I Did Wrong in Dealing with a Psychopath” were the ones that applied most to my own dealings with them.
That was meant as a joke, but after I left that comment for Steve, I got to thinking about how right-on it was, joke or not, because I have done so much wrong in dealing with these people. I got my self deeper and deeper into trouble, doing the wrong things in interacting with them. Not that I was intentionally doing something mean or “wrong” per se, but I didn’t make choices that led to positive outcomes in dealing with the psychopaths in my life.
One of the reasons I did 1001 things wrong was that I didn’t know what I was dealing with. I thought I was dealing with people who had good intentions toward me, just as I had good intentions toward them. Boy, was that a wrong thing to assume. But because I assumed this error in fact about their intentions, I tried to “be reasonable” with them. That sure didn’t work. They broke their word to me time and time again. It took me a long time “to get it through my thick skull,” as MaryJo Buttafuoco said in her book, and then, when I did get it through my thick head that “Person A” couldn’t be trusted, I didn’t “generalize” that knowledge to other people who also broke their words to me over and over and over again.
Learning to generalize
Even animals can learn to generalize. A friend and I trained steer, getting them used to “something that rattled.” It didn’t matter what rattled; we would use plastic milk jugs with rocks in them, and tie those jugs to their tails so that every time they took a step, this “rattling monster” attached to them would make noise and follow them. For a little while they were scared and ran from it, but eventually they got the idea that the “rattling monster” wasn’t going to be outrun by them (it always kept up), and it wasn’t actually going to hurt them. Eventually they decided anything that rattled and made noise was harmless.
With one set of young steers my friend trained though, if you got them used to a white jug with rocks in it, and they weren’t afraid of it any more, if you used a yellow jug, they would go back to SQUARE ONE PANIC AGAIN, with each tiny change in the “monster.” They didn’t “generalize” very well and were always hyper-alert and on guard. He eventually got them so they were “dynamite proof,” so he could take them out in public without being afraid they would panic at the first sound they weren’t used to, or the first loud retort from a fire cracker, but he and I both thought for a long time they might not ever generalize enough to be safe from panicking and running away out in public.
Abusive behavior
I think in a way I also didn’t “generalize” the abusive behaviors of the various psychopaths I encountered. When a boss would be dishonest and verbally abusive to me, I was upset and “panicked” at the unexpected behavior, trying to figure out how to not get hurt, but when a relative would do this same kind of behavior I, again, panicked and didn’t realize that the “rattle” was just the same kind of “monster” that I had encountered with the other psychopath. Of course I didn’t realize then that the psychopathic “monsters” had a name or that their lack of empathy and their damage was definitely destructive, unlike a milk jug with a few rocks in it.
I not only tried to be “reasonable” with the psychopaths, but I also tried to placate them, to make them see, by being extra nice to them and not “bowing up and fighting back,” that I wasn’t trying to hurt them. I wanted to be “friends” and get along.
Of course, when a prey animal tries to get along with a predator animal we know what happens, don’t we? The prey animal gets the worst end of the deal. Yep, I did get the worst end of the deal trying to “make nice” with the psychopaths, but again, I didn’t learn that a psychopath is a psychopath is a psychopath is a predator! Rather than generalize this hurtful behavior to a class of people, I saw each one as an individual person with “reasons” and “excuses” and the “potential to change” and “see the light” when there was no chance that they were going to have any empathy, much less sympathy, for the pain they caused me or anyone else. They didn’t give a hoot how badly they hurt me as long as they got what they wanted.
Wanted to get along
I also didn’t really see what it was that they actually wanted. I didn’t want to cause anyone any pain, I wanted to love people and get along with them and share good things and help folks out. This is what I thought that everyone wanted. What they actually did want, however, was to control me, humiliate me, and to get me to provide them with their own twisted idea of a relationship—all take on their part and all give on mine.
Just like the hyper-alert steers, I didn’t feel comfortable, and was always jumpy, expecting something to hit me, but I wasn’t sure where it would come from, so each time a psychopath lied to me, stole from me, took advantage of me, I was totally surprised again and again.
Eventually that young pair of steers got to where they were not surprised by anything in the way of a loud noise and they calmed down and became a reliable pair of working steers (oxen). But it was only because they learned to move from the individual to the general concepts of what would or would not hurt them. They learned that a little yappy dog running at their feet was not a danger, but that a large aggressive dog was something that they should kick at or hook at with their horns. They learned that the sound of a fire cracker or a car back firing, or a cannon shooting at a historical reenactment, wasn’t going to hurt them and they didn’t need to pay it any attention. They learned to distinguish between harmless noises like people yelling or laughing and their drover saying “get up” and meaning it!
I’m not sure why these particular steers were so difficult to train. Perhaps it was because the breed was the wilder Spanish cattle from Mexico whose ancestors that had not jumped every time there was a noise in the brush had been taken out of the gene pool by the wolves, coyotes and mountain lions, so only the “jumpy” ones were left.
Changed my response
I’m also not sure why I didn’t generalize from the abusive behavior I endured over and over, or change the failed attempts to get it to stop by doing repeatedly something that had not worked. Someone once said, “insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I sure did enough of that for two lifetimes. Now I have changed the way I respond to abusive behavior. I am learning to distinguish the difference between “harmless rattles” and “real threats” from predators.
I have made some general “rules” to guide me in my differentiation of what is “harmless” and what is “threatening.” First off, it depends on how close to me the threat is. A rattle snake at 10 yards from me is no threat at all. I know he could hurt me if he was closer, but I will not let him get close enough to strike me, so I don’t have to fear him. If that same rattle snake is 3 feet from me, I take a different view of the potential for harm from the same snake, and react in a different way than I do to the one who is 30 feet away.
If a person who is not “close to me” lies to me, it probably isn’t going to be much of a danger to me, unless it is a big business deal. I don’t fear that lie from someone I don’t really have any connection with, I just notice (like with the rattle snake at a distance) that the person is dishonest, I don’t want him to get closer to me.
If a person who is “close to me” lies, that has a much bigger potential for harm to me, both emotionally and otherwise. Therefore I will move away from that dishonest person, put some distance between me and them so that if they do strike, they won’t be close enough to hit me or do any significant damage.
Threat or benign
Once I have determined that a person, animal, or object is a potential threat rather than a benign creature, I will keep a wary eye on it. I won’t make excuses for the potential damage, and once it has tried to hurt me, it won’t have another chance. I no longer trust anything or anyone without assessing the potential damage that could be done.
Cynical? No, I don’t think so, just cautious. I don’t venture into the world like there are no dangers out there, no evil people. I do know now that there are some evil creatures in the world, some potential threats to my life, sanity and health. But I no longer walk in terror, because I have realized what the evil creatures are. I am no longer terrified of the “rattling milk jugs,” but I give a wide berth to the “poison snakes.”
I’ve finally personally learned from the “1001e things I did wrong in dealing with psychopaths.”
2 years ago, huh. that’s why you’re so sane. 😉
Why thank you onestep!
10 and a half years since he infiltrated my life.
4 years next March since he walked out.
4 years next August since I kicked him out after taking him back.
2 years since the lovely bonfire.
The divorce was only last year, because he hid from the process server to avoid being served with the papers and then didn’t show for any of the hearings. What should have been a 3-month process turned into 10 months of angst tryin to rid myself officially of him. But I stuck with it and finally got my freedom – on paper. Still working on the complete version…
Dear Aussiegirl,
That purging is liberating isn’t it?
I have been purging all fall and have thrown out and burned “tons” of things, financial records, childhood things I saved of mine, etc. I gave away the “family heirlooms” to some of my cousins, (same grandmother) Not sure they or their kid will value them but not my look out, they can trash them if they have no meaning to them. It isn’t like we are talking about the Hope Diamond after all, just “stuff”—other things that formerly had meant a great deal to me that no longer did, I tossed.
Gave things to my step kids that had belonged to their father and I thought they might like, and will gather more of those things and continue to pass them out as I come across them.
The less I have to mess with, dust and clean, the better and more free I feel. I’m down-sizing in lots of ways. I’ve done some of the down sizing before but I am doing it again and in more earnest! Why do I “need” things I don’t use and have no sentimental value to me any more? The old “depression era” mentality of “I might need this if hard times come” is one I inherited from my grandparents who lived through terrible financial times and did need some of the things they kept.
But I don’t have to keep extra things, and living in the RV when I fled did give me some ideas about how LITTLE we really need to “keep house” with, and all the rest of the “things” are just in the way of our real freedom! So, I’m freeing myself up more and more by divesting myself of extra “stuff.”
okay gang, would like some input on this.
it comes up over and over again.
(a bit of background aussie, because I am not sure how much of my story you know – but my spath created 20 some characters to con me with online and on phone (2 on phone). she is bright and quite a multi-tasker! She used hundreds of photos that belonged to someone else to pretend to be the fake boy. I know who that person really is. and all the other photos she used, also – all his real friends and family. so, i have a very real ‘image’ of the fake boy.)
so, the thing is – whenever i see someone on the street who looks like him, i deeply ‘lose the plot’ (good phrase aussie). i would like to shake this. it keeps coming up, and it floors me when it does. i’d like some help unraveling it. the real life boy is in his early 20’s (the fake boy was older). I live in a college town – no end of young men in this age range. it takes me away when i see someone who looks like him. i lose the plot of my own life.
i also have a difficult time with things that connect to the fake boy – things the spath ‘stole’ from me – like connections to certain countries, certain music, etc. i have shut down a whole pieces of myself to coral the damage, and to feel safe. but, of course, i don’t…i was somewhere earlier today and found myself getting angry – thought o f something that the spath is connected to – something corralled, and i said to myself, i don’t know how, but i am going to stop having this reaction. i think i have made a lot of progress in the last couple of weeks – and my ability to focus on changing my thoughts is a mark of that.
but the boy – the fake boy. i do on occasion grieve my loss of him. it comes up from time to time – so i just cry or feel glum – whatever is necessary. it came up tonight when i go homw – no idea why – maybe because i had been angry standing at the gate, looking at all my lovliness locked up inside.
You are so right Oxy – I am a first-class hoarder of the nth degree, but love all my stuff – it’s so interesting and when people come over they always say my house is like a museum…. (Lord help me when I’m one of those 90-year-old ladies with stacks of old newspapers lining the walls of every room!)
De-cluttering is always hard for me, but feels good afterward.
I realised what the important things were when the second-worst bushfire in our state’s history came within 1km of our house in February 2007 (the worst had also been in our area, in fact it wiped out a couple of neighbouring settlements that were never rebuilt and left only a handful of buildings standing in our town, which rose again from the ashes only to almost go up again 40+ years later in 2007).
It was horrific. Burning leaves raining all over the house and yard. I (and I say I, because the spath seemed unconcerned about it in general and did little to help) evacuated the stepson and the pets all in one trip, to various friends along the coast, far away from our fire in the hills. When I think about it now – 40+ animals and birds stuffed in cages and loaded into 2 cars and a trailer, with Wallace and Grommett (my pet lambs) in the back of the station wagon, bums against the back window as we drove (they were only half-grown then, and could just fit). Cats in cages next to birds, a possum (a rescue from the fire) in a pillow case, ducks and chooks and rabbits … we must have been a sight to behold!
Anyhow, I got them out first and then went back to stay and defend, making only one more trip down the hill with photo albums, financial records and family mementoes – just one car load.
Then – one last load into both vehicles before the roads were closed and we weren’t allowed to leave town – fire was on 3 sides and all 3 roads out were blocked. The fall-back position was the town oval and if it came down to that, all vehicles were to be parked at a safe distance from the oval to limit explosive impact if they caught fire. So – whatever was in that 3rd load was possibly going to burn as there was only enough water to save whoever was huddled on the oval. The house was still FULL of stuff. I was amazed at quickly my brain kicked into gear and I was able to prioritise – and GET IT RIGHT!
Yes yes yes! That’s what I did too Aussiegirl!
But what I did is I wrote down a “title” of sorts for every memory of how she had hurt me, I wrote down a list of every curse I felt she put on me and then I wrote down every fear that I attained by being in a relationship with her. There were about 200 pieces of paper. I also photocopied a letter from her (for an appendix when I write my memoir), and added all cards etc from people in her family. I also went through my facebook account and literally blocked every single person related to her or friends with her, except my sister who is fully on her way to acceptance and recovery too.
We had our mentors here. . .and the husband is a pastor so we did an official rite of a funeral, but then instead of “burying” the things we burned them.
My sweet husband and I buried the ashes over the foundation of the old house that she attempted to take my life in. I finally felt empowered to move on. . .
But I had nightmares for the 2 weeks following, every single night. Until I tried my hand at a little NLP in my bedroom two days ago. I haven’t had a nightmare that night or last night, I hope tonight is number three!!! BUT that little session helped me to realize that I am not powerless to her anymore and I’m getting out with more than my life. . .but with hope and a future. That’s a lot more than I can say about how I was doing even just a couple weeks ago. There’s been a lot of psychological work going on. . .at breakneck speeds, but I feel like I was as ready for this process as I could be, that the timing was perfect on God’s part. I felt like he orchestrated everything perfectly and I was able to make clear decisions about moving and my husband was also in an excellent place emotionally. . . God was VERY gracious to us with this. But man– it’s still utterly exhausting, and I just found out I am pregnant again. So– making a placenta is tiring stuff too. . .
My dad I believe has a PD of his own. He has strange religious delusions and has made it his “mission” to SAVE the TB. (Turbo Bitch, the only words I know that can capture her really) Even when that means sacrificing his children at that altar. Accepting his FULL CONSENT of her evils to us has made my image of him change drastically and in fact we’re getting a p.o. box because of it, I can’t trust him with my actual address. It’s hard to accept that it’s come to this. . .as crazy as it is, I feel like I’m damn lucky to know this stuff now, and before all our money was tied up into the family business. . . .
Thank you so much for your insight and encouragement. Only a few more sleeps here. So tired, and grateful.
Aussiegirl, I think it is in those moments of clarity that we realize what is REALLY important and let the rest go.
Since I was the only daughter of an only daughter I had lots of family “stuff” that had come down from the early 1800s including quilts and furniture, etc. and I “took care of” it for the next generations….now I am GLAD there is no NEXT GENERATION of my genes! P son is in prison so hasn’t procreated, and son C has chosen to NOT have kids because of genes, and son D (adopted) has not found a woman he wants to make kids with yet, so no DNA to be passed down at this point at least from this locale. Which I am FINE with now.
I had always envisioned myself as an old lady with all my grandkids around my deathbed on the farm…but now I am so glad I don’t have grandchildren for a P to use and abuse to break my heart with.
I have a bunch of my adopted son D’s friends that hang out here and I enjoy them, doing things with them, and you know it makes me feel good to know they enjoy being here or they wouldn’t BE here. It is really COOL that all these WONDERFUL young men enjoy hanging out with the old lady! They tease me unmercifully of course, but I get even! We play scrabble, Monopoly and cards, listen to music, discuss politics and history, and all sorts of interesting subjects! How enlightening these wonderful guys are! And, how COOL is that that the like to hang out with me as well as my son D!
Dear one –
Been there honey, done that.
So – some places (online or in the reall world) might still be “no-go” zones for you just yet, for your sanity’s sake. It takes much time.
There are other places and things that may not trigger you so hard or fast and which might not actually be dangerous for you, only “feel” dangerous (which is just as valid, but easier to overcome once you decide to) – start with them.
I wrote on another post recently about “taking back” stolen places; making new, good memories over the top of the yukky ones. Reclaiming territory. The stronger you get, the more of these you will be able to tackle and the asier it will all get.
For instance, I live 40kms from my old home (where the spath and his new dupe are). I have occasional business and some friends in the town that forms one point of the triangle between his town, my town and that town. If I need to go to the capital city (Perth) or the large regional centre nearby, I must drive through the 3rd point of the triangle, which is also where the spath banks, shops and has cronies.
As recently as 2 years back, I would ignore urgent things that needed doing in the city or the regional centre until I had no choice but to go and would never stop in the 3rd point town even for takeaway food if I was starving. I wouldn’t visit my favourite art gallery there or stop to “op-shop” even though it has some great second-hand stores that I used to love going to. I wouldn’t visit my favouraite antique dealer either.
As I approached that town, my stomach would knot up, my hands would begin to shake and I would sweat and feel like throwing up. I would feel dizzy and disoriented.
After my bonfire purge, I decided to start MAKING myself drive through the town slowly. I stopped avoiding things until they got urgent and would make myself go to the city or the regional centre, passing each time through the 3rd point town. Eventually, I was able to stop off at the art gallery and the antique dealers to browse if I had time (they are at opposite ends of the town on the outskirts). Once that was no longer scarey for me, I made myself go into the op-shops. Once I could do that, I would stop for takeaway food there – smack bang in the middle of town.
I have NOT ONCE encountered the spath or his cronies, which has made me realise that they are NOT out over-running the streets of that town every hour of every day. I don’t go there often but when I do, I am no longer frightened. Sure, I keep an eye out – but I do that everywhere I go anyway. But I have “taken the town back” – on my terms and at my own pace, as I could manage it.
Since then, I have even been able to drive through the town the spath lives in (and let me tell you, it is a TINY place). I have deliberately taken long drives through it to get to other places in the country just for a nice day out. Once that was comfortable, was able to manage a few drive-bys of my old house to get photos of the spaths new car and his dupes car, so that I know if he’s hanging around. Before that, I lived in terror that he was following me (which he had been doing) and that I didn’t know which car to look out for. Now I do. Knowledge is power.
Now I can’t stop and have a coffee there yet, nor can I visit the wineries or galleries in that town, and I still get butterflies in my stomach if I drive through – but 2 years ago, I could not have even contemplated such a thing.
Start with the easiest things and work your way up to the hard ones. I’m a SUCH a scaredy-cat honey, so if I can do it, so can you. xxx
hushabybabydoll –
What is NLP?
AND CONGRATULATIONS on your placenta-making! I’m not only jealous of you but I am thrilled for you! I just LOVE to hear that someone is pregnant (unless, of course, they are a spath or with a spath…)
I wish you a calm and peaceful time of it. x
Dear Babydoll,
Accepting that my egg donor was capable of lying, capable of WANTING to hurt me was very painful for me. She had convinced me that she had a direct pipeline to God when I was a small child, and that only by pleasing her could I please God. By the time I was in 1st or 2nd grade I was terrified of God, that angry old man that could read my thouhts. Even if egg donor couldn’t read my mind, God could and He would punish me for my thoughts that were contrary to her will (not His will mind, you but HER will)
Sounds stupid to think I believed this after I was grown but deep inside I did I think. I wanted to please her so badly. Somehow it didn’t seem right, yet I kept on trying to make it right.
I have finally gotten away from that compulsion to please her, the “command voices” she inserted inside my head—no, I’m not out of touch with reality, and The tin foil hat is just my fashion statement! LOL—but it was like if I violated any of her rules guilt would wash over me like a shower! I had no choice but to obey her or feel guilty. I couldn’t validate myself as an adult no matter how smart I was or how educated or anything else.
I feel so “Stooooopid” when I think about how I swallowed this bunch of carp whole without even thinking about how OFF KILTER IT WAS….but God was patient with me, He gave me multiple opportunities to learn this stuff and I kept flunking until one day DUH! I GOT IT!!!! The light went on. I saw the truth! My egg donor was a LIAR. The truth was not in her! I didn’t need her to tell me God’s will, or what I should do. I was an adult (Okay 3 X an adult! 60+ years old!) LOL I could make my own decisions, and validate myself! Even if “my mommy didn’t love me” I was STILL OKAY! The problem wasn’t I was unloveable, the problem was she wasn’t capable of loving me. Not a problem with me, the problem was her. Ditto with my P-son. She may be his victim or his dupe, but she didn’t love me before he was even born. They are using each other.
I can’t at this point in time move away, we live on the same farm, but half a mile away and I have to stay here until she passes away or leave in my RV as the land is combined and holds title to my house, Son C’s house, and my egg donor’s house in a trust. But I DID leave here once for my safety in an RV and if I have to again for safety I will, but in the meantime, I live in my home, and as far as I am concerned, she pretty much doesn’t exist even though she lives “near” me physically. I have not spoken to her in a couple of years, and what contact we must have for business purposes is by e mail, and even that, not in over a year. I’m her only child and my son C has nothing to do wit her either. Neither does my adopted son D. Only the P offspring in prison. They can have each other.
Make you and your family a new life, Babydoll, a PO box is good, and I would get it in a town close by but not the same name town, or at least in a different zip code than in the one where you actually live.
If you are buying property you can get what is called an “LLC,” it is like an incorporation but not quite, but you can title the land in the “XYZ, LLC” and therefore the records for land ownership will still be YOURS but your real name won’t be on record as owning a house. Even the mortgage can be in an LLC—check it out with an attorney it is EASY and protects your location. You can also title cars that way too. Make it a bit more difficult for your father or the TB to find your address. With the internet records today it just helps keep you private.