I clearly remember the shock of realizing that everything my ex-husband, James Montgomery, had ever told me was a lie. I remember the devastation of discovering the truth: His entire purpose in marrying me was to get a free place to live, take advantage of my good reputation and defraud me of my assets. All the promises, all the assurances, were literally sweet nothings. They sounded good, and meant absolutely nothing.
I remember being paralyzed by my new truth. How could I possibly plan a recovery for my life, when every day I was falling apart? Worse, no one seemed to have an explanation for what happened, or advice on how to handle it.
It’s been 10 years since I left my ex-husband. I’ve now identified what I was dealing with—a sociopath. I read books that explained the disorder, such as Without Conscience by Dr. Robert Hare. But books with practical advice on how to cope with the trauma? They’re hard to come by. One of the best I’ve found, surprisingly, is Legal Abuse Syndrome, by Karin Huffer, M.S., M.F.T., which is now available in the Lovefraud Store.
Eight steps to recovery
The book was written to help victims cope with the betrayals and inefficiencies of the “justice system” after a violent or deceptive assault. Huffer contends that continuous assault by the legal establishment creates post traumatic stress disorder in the victim.
Well, the egregious assault of a sociopath created post traumatic stress disorder in many of us, whether we got involved with the legal system or not. So in the course of laying out a plan for overcoming legal abuse, Huffer also lays out a plan for overcoming sociopathic abuse.
Huffer identifies eight steps to recovery:
1. Debriefing. That means telling someone what happened, and that person listening without judgment.
2. Grieving. It is legitimate to grieve the loss of possessions, or our lifestyle, or our place in the community.We didn’t just lose things. We lost part of ourselves.
3. Obsession. Huffer suggests coping with obsession by compartmentalizing it—only allowing yourself to dwell in it for specific periods of time.
4. Blaming. This means putting blame where it belongs: on the perpetrator. The guilt, anger and rage needs to directed towards the person who deceived us.
5. Deshaming. The dreadful experience has taught us that some of our prior beliefs are false and need to be changed. When we do this, we change our attitude from “I was a fool” to “I’ve been wronged.”
6. Reframing. At this stage, you can look at your experience, define it differently, and then articulate the wisdom you’ve gained.
7. Empowerment. You take ownership of your problems, determine how you are going to cope with them, and go into action.
8. Recovery. With recovery, you are able to move forward in your life.
Protocol works
I spoke to the author, Karin Huffer, at the Battered Mothers Conference in January. It was the first time I’d seen her since finishing the book. I told her that, in my opinion, the eight steps she defined for recovering from legal abuse would also work in recovering from a sociopath.
Huffer agreed. In fact, she said that her program has now been out long enough to have proven itself. “The protocol works,” she said.
When we decided to add the Lovefraud Store to our website, one of the books that I really wanted to offer was Legal Abuse Syndrome. It explains why other people—even those who care about you—can’t listen to what you’re saying. It tells you how to place blame where it should be—on the predator. It tells you how to handle your obsessions. Oh, yes, and it tells you how to cope with legal shenanigans.
Legal Abuse Syndrome is now available, and I strongly recommend it—even if you aren’t in court with the predator who assaulted you.
A huge hug to you, Oxy. And you’re right, there’s a lot more humor here than I’ve ever seen. (It doesn’t hurt that you and some other people are really funny.)
I was thinking last night about our first annual national meet-up. We should have a Cafe Towanda with an open stage. I don’t know how you’re going to manage to tend the bar, watch the chili and be the master of ceremonies, but I’ll spell you, while I’m not swapping revenge stories with SOS and rehearsing my “No, no, no, I don’t want no gigolo” song.
Kathy:
When I look at all the money I shelled out on S over the course of 15 months, I could have bought myself a/many nice looking rentboy(s) who understand that since I’m paying for everything, his job is to make me happy.
Instead, I ponied up big-time for a not-particularly attractive, charm-free sociopath who definitely did not understand that if I’m paying I expect playing — and NOT playing around (behind my back).
Live and learn.
Nope, from here on in, I expect a true partner — and I don’t mean that financially. I don’t care if he matches me income-wise. All I want is somebody who can make whatever contribution he can — and make it willingly.
S never got that it wasn’t all about money. I wanted to spend time with him to build a relationship. Instead, he withheld that. Along with sex, emotional availability, and anything else he could.
keepingfaith48:
Okay. You slipped. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, put on some heels and lipstick and keep moving forward.
The only question you need to ask yourself is “why did I feel the need to have contact with him and what did I learn from this experience?” Even before reading Kathy’s post to you, I suspect you already knew the answers to that question.
Kathy! I can envision that performance.
Actually, I would settle for a gigolo, but the older I get the less money I have to buy one, and the older I get the more money I would NEED to buy one! LOL
I’m at the point now that I can’t even GIVE AWAY what I USTA COULDA SOLD!
I’ll work on my “stand up routine” and you work on your vocals and we will put’em on a SHOW for sure!
kindheart48…everybody “backslides” once in a while. Stay with us, it’ll get better.
My x-Tox showed up on my doorstep almost three years after the discard. Didn’t get anywhere, but I was “out of sorts” for about 2 weeks…
Kathleen Hawks…I’m crushed. I can change. Did I tell you I was a Seal? Ok, so I believed them when I put the references in the stone jars with the wax seals, there in the caves by the Dead Sea. Anyway, the phones then didn’t have “area codes” and they probably wouldn’t answer since I liked older women at the time….
Therapists? If you find a good one…keep ’em. Mine nailed it the first or second visit. BPD. He told me I was reacting normally to an abnormal situation. Of, course, I didn’t realize it for a year-and a-half. Luckily, he wasn’t of the “whomp ’em with a skillet” school. After about 4 months, he told me I didn’t need to see him anymore. I still go about every 2 months to keep me on track…and not have to “re-do” the paperwork. He was most interested in my “RETURN OF THE X_TOX” tale of a few months ago, and asked a lot of questions…it interested him. I guess he learns from me, too.
Be good to yourself and the sane people that matter…I got to see if there’s an Armani suit on the rack at Goodwill that fits me…and designer boots…Kathleen Hawk can’t always be right, can she?
Oxy, I’m doing Jabez’s prayer. And among the other things I’m asking for is a reemergence of the truly great middle-aged guy. I know God’s got them stored somewhere, all these guys who have learned from their mistakes like we have, and now want to find someone who appreciates their renewed hearts and their sturdy characters and the vibrant warmth and energy in their (our) slightly gravity-challenged bodies.
This is a great time of life. Phooey on those people who don’t get it. I’ve seen your picture, and you’re beautiful. In fact, I suspect we all are. There’s something about this process that turns our old haggard selves into advertisements for the benefits of growing up.
And trust me, you don’t want a rented guy. They’re icky, and make you feel icky. Better you fool around with one of those guys you don’t want to marry. As far as I’m concerned, second best to finding another love of my life would be a regular weekly date with someone I like and trust. I’m beginning to suspect I might just be grown-up (old) enough to keep my hormones under control and not fall in love at the first orgasm.
Maybe. I wish I could find out without having to risk finding out I can’t.
And Jim? Did you say you were a Seal? And you stored your resume with the Dead Sea scrolls? Be still my foolish heart. You want to do a medley with my gigolo song? You can do the “I’m too sexy for my shorts” song. Skip the Armani. A black leather jacket and some Ray Bans will do Oh, wait, that’s what I’m wearing. We can call ourselves Too Cool for School.
Back to work…
Well, Kathleen, we’ll need to negotiate some things…
First…no, I wasn’t a Navy Seal…it was a Halloween Costume
“I’m too sexy for my kilt”…will that fit in and rhyme?
You know, that gravity thing, I always wondered…could it work FOR us? Say, after fifty or so years…could you hang up-side down, stand on your head, or get one of those stainless steel spinning traction things…8-10 hours a day for the next 15-20 years…
You got hormones? That “O” word? Memories. Jim slapped himself…too old to flirt.
I’m kinda busy now…hope this ain’t a dealbreaker…porn. Let me explain…Wini told me to read the Bible everyday…and I just started Songs of Solomon…Jewish porn…can’t put it down!
Well, I’d I’d like to reemerge, but I live in a small town in the Midwest. I clean my guns, clutch my Bible, peer out through my drawn blinds lookin’ for people who don’t look like me….
And the money thing…My President told me to put my cash back in the stock market two days ago…worked for a day…oops…can you wait a few more years….
Look for me in five years as the sun rises in the East…I’ll probably be on the white horse again…with a wizard’s staff!
I’m 58…and 18 til I die! I’m good.
Kathleen – No negotiating! But you can bend a little on the kilt tho…WE all wanna see Jim on stage in a leather bomber, raybans and kilt singing Donna Summers “I WILL SURVIVE” with you and Oxy doing backup in tutus!
Jim(BO) – LMAO…. Oy vey…..
OK! All you women with the apples! Back off! I’m still workin’ on the P-detector. It needs some adjustments. So I can’t reemerge safely yet……and I’ve already survived and it ain’t no fun to sing that song no more!
54 degrees…sun…going to be 58 degrees…I’ll be back later.
Keep healing…keep growing…life is/will be good again!
Anybody know where I put my shades? CRS!
Jim, I don’t flirt with Scots. They look down on the Irish. (I had to listen to this from my last husband, who was convinced he had some genetic advantage over me. I supposed it would be tasteless to observe that he’s dead, and I’m not.)
But I agree with learnedthelesson, if you want to sing in your leather jacket, raybans and kilt, I think it’s great. In fact, I think you might start a craze.
A tutu? Um….
Jim – That song will be fun for me til the day I die! Just something about it, might be a female thang!! And we all will still be working on the P-detector til our organs give out!
check on top of your head for your shades… have a good one! 🙂