Not long ago, Lovefraud received the following note from a reader:
Your articles have given me a lot of peace and the ability to see good in life again, though I’ll never go back into the mainstream of society because of the abuse and betrayal I’ve experienced. It’s sad that the vision and understanding one achieves after being victimized by a sociopath prevents you from ever being able to get close to anyone again. I’m working through that though, so I just take it one step at a time. Maybe you could write some more about that?
Yes, dear readers, we do need to take recovery one step at a time. But know that we can go back to the mainstream of society. We can recover to the point of allowing ourselves to open to love again.
For each of us, the experience of the sociopath was probably the most traumatic of our lives. The betrayal shakes us to our souls. But sometimes what gets shaken loose is the negative beliefs that enabled us to fall for the sociopath in the first place. Beliefs like “I’m not good enough.” “Nobody loves me.” “There’s something wrong with me.”
Those were my beliefs. They were buried deep in my psyche, hidden by my brains, writing talent and management ability. But my ex-husband, James Montgomery, plowed through my life, crushing the structures I’d built to present myself to the world—like my career, bank account and credit rating. With the structures gone, I came face to face with the beliefs.
The beliefs were wrong. It was the sociopathic upheaval that enabled me to realize that and let them go.
How did I do it? Quite honestly, it was painful. I cried. I raged. I released layers and layers of negative emotion. And finally, on April 19, 2001, I gave up the battle to make my ex pay me back.
Nine days later I met Terry Kelly. We dated. We fell in love. We married.
Friday was our fifth wedding anniversary. We still love each other as we did when our romance was new and fresh. Today, we exchanged mushy Valentines.
These have been the happiest years of my life. We enjoy each other’s company. We comfort each other in times of stress. We support each other in everything—in fact, without Terry, there would be no Lovefraud.
So yes, there can be life and love after the sociopath.
Please do not give up on life because of the terrible experience. If you do, then the predator will truly have won.
Instead, give yourself time and permission to heal. Find the blind spot within you that made it difficult for you to see the sociopath’s agenda. Recognize that you are now educated about this personality disorder, and you won’t be fooled again. Trust your intuition.
When we’re in the midst of the pain and trauma, it is difficult to believe that life can turn around. But we really do need to believe it, and allow ourselves to move, day by day, toward our own healing. Because healing can bring us love.
Cat, Wow, it never ceases to amaze me how similar the S all act. MY X-S did the same thing! Pretended to be sooo concerned on the phone while talking TO others about any illnesses that I had, but was HIDEOUS ANY time I was sick or not up to par in any way.
I remember him talking with his mom (who WAS his pycho-ness enabler/ and S by proxy) pretending to be oh- so- concerned about me being sick and I always felt puzzled, although happy (how sick is that;( that he seemed like he cared while discussing the details of my sickness with her. Even then my brain was “on roam” as I searched to make sense of how his words didnt match his actions! OMG! RED Flag City,,,
When I had major surgery- 2 cervical disc replacements, I thought it ODD that he came to the hospital, brought pathetic looking flowers, and within a few hours of my surgery, while I was still pretty comatose, he laid the sad looking roses on my chest, took a PICTURE of me lying there basically lifeless and sent it to his mom.CREEEPY!!
So Sir-cares-alot gets attention that HE was taking care of me. ANother version of LETS PLAY HUMAN. In fact, the night before surgery, I was in so much pain that I called him in a panic to come stay with me in case I had to go to the E.R. He cursed me b/c “his highness” was busy shopping at grocery store- and this interfered with his carefully crafted, high priority schedule that was un-changeable even if a death occured. I hung up, called my mom who dropped everything, drove 35 miles IMMEDIATELY to stay with me. He then calls back , CURSES ME OUT AGAIN because how dare I ASK my mom to come??? This meant I didnt ‘trust’ that he could/would take care of me. DUH!!
He says OF COURSE he didnt “mind” coming over, BUT I should KNOW how he NEEDS to stay on his schedule. Ok,I will try to schedule my health emergencies around the rotation of YOUR grocery shopping,
a–hole!!
THe other time I had kidney stones, I was called a B**** b/c as I doubled over in pain, falling to the floor, I said I HAVE TO GO to the hospital NOW! He acted purely demonic getting me to the E.R, then miracously was Mr. Florence Nightingale in front of all the nurses. If I wasnt already barfing, I would of started.
I could go on and on about how purely evil he was every single time that I was ever sick. That is the danger of treating these BIG RAGING SICK-O Alerts as ISOLATED incidents- his big spill on FORGIVENESS- you forgive and move on when in truth- you should be keeping a wrap sheet of every crime committed against you. This creates a collective history, and a behavior pattern that reads like a crystal ball of all future behavior.
Donna,
This is heartwarming, you are blessed to have found love again. I am so happy for you, it’s astonishing.
I want to ask loads of questions like how long after James Montasshole did you meet Terry? Did you meet him naturally or on dating site? Were you feeling attractive and happy? How has Terry helped you with lovefraud? yabber yabber…please feel free to ignore pressure to answer
While I am on dating site, I am so hyper vigilant no one has got through the radar yet. I think I might be cynical and depressed (wow what an attractive package I am) and bound to attract another sicko. I am close to 2 years since break up but 7 months totally contact free. I need more “ME” time perhaps to land on planet trust again.
And I want what you have!!
Bulletproof- Im with ya on being hyper viligent on dating sites as a necessary precaution. Can I tell you my experience? I went on a christian dating site in which I have been with a wonderful man for a long while now that loves me for WHO I am. It is a unbelievablly different relationship to be with a normal caring human being who is all about YOU!!
I had struggles, and sometimes still do in adjusting to any relationship- I study his behavior very closely,intently to assure myself over and over that he is not disordered.;)
I used every resource to “check” him out” – made a point of studying his long term friendships/family dynamics, past relationships, my friends/family gut reactions-ETC. ALL OF IT. Even did a background check for any violence, law breaking, etc- just to make sure….
My friend said OH NO YOU DIDNT… Honey- I am in no position to play with fire anymore- sound paranoid- Darn STRAIT-
But I prefer to think that it pays to INVESTIGATE before you INVEST. I didnt want my heart to get me into anything that my feet couldnt walk me out of and I wont defend my right to do a “case study” before I involve myself in ANY relationship.
That said- I am still amazed that this man is as loving, gentle, and KIND as he is! Its a new world for me. The key word is KIND.
My X- S could never on his BEST day be described as kind. There was always a dangerous, reckless element that was unpredictable.
I did have to stay in a cocoon for a year or so not dating in order to get real with boundaries. For me, the first couple of dates I went on (with other guys from the site) , I was shaky with boundaries- almost found myself drowning in a sea of disordered S.
I learned that the FACT that I HAD to keep up such BOUNDARIES were a red flag in itself. In meeting the man that I am in love with now, I did not have to DEFEND my rights, my honor, etc. That was like fresh air for me.
I was not made to feel like “I” was the lucky one to have him- he made it clear by his actions that he was lucky and blessed to have met me.
I had an aversion to “sweet” talk as I don’t believe a man’s words without his actions backing it up. There wasnt A THANG he could say to me that I hadnt already heard and I was UNDER IMPRESSED by words.
Now I am beginning to enjoy “word candy” as I see that the actions are in alignment.
Due to being in a fight or flight marriage with my X- S, I sometimes over react in pretty abrasive ways at times- a fall out obviously of the previous trauma-drama of the past. Other than that I am moving along nicely and still in AWE of the normalcyand pleasure this relationship brings to my life.
I have to be admit to you, in the beginning, I was so accustomed to the HUGE come-on, seductive in- your- face behavior of the S- I thought my new man was alittle DULL!!
OMG, if I had stuck with that scewed observation, I would have missed out on possibly the best relationship of my life! In fact, I told my g/f after the first date “He’s OK, I’m just not Ga-Ga!! lol
Because he DIDNT LOVE BOMB me, make inappropriate sexual induendos, and appear Mr.Perfect on the first weeks of our meeting- I thought he might not be EXCITING enough for me.
Given time, I’ve found him to be the MOST exciting man- Remember DRAMA and exciting are WAY different!! He SLOWLY allowed me to see his intimate side, and the qualities he possessed. He was transparent in the fact that he allowed me to see his insecurities in a real way- no cockiness, or candy coating his life mistakes, no pity plays.
THere is love after pyscho’s!
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***********HEY EVERYBODY-NEWS FLASH, Taken from the the PYSCHO Asylum hotline-
*Theres a new law pending that MANDATES all P’s wear a bracelet to identify themselves. It will be PLASTIC- a kickback of their “real” (uhh- hum) personality, with Metal spikes attached, indicating how it feels when they sink their fangs into you. FEATURES of the bracelet includes a medical alert of “DO NOT RESUSITATE.”
BREAKING NEWS_There has already been a RECALL, as the P’s have figured out how to quickly disengage the latch to remove their identity- as they have never had one before.
Of course, the Ps have began selling them COUNTERFEIT on the BLACK market – indicative of the P’s ever present criminal intent!! 😉
The NEWS FLASH .. just to make you smile.. xoxo
Sabrina, I would prefer BRANDING on the forehead the entire word “psychopath” in 6 inch high letters. Actually, probably not many would “survive the branding” but hey, you gotta make sure they can’t get the mark off, right?
Sabrina–and all…
I can relate to the illness thing~~while I was with the spath I got very sick (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS)and Fibromyalgia)& was in the acute stage for 7+ months before I began to get better. He exiled me to an attic room where I lived for over 7 months. He was disgusted at “what a drag” I was, which led to him actually LEAVING ME ALONE for the first time…(silver lining)
He’d try to talk to me in the beginning–make that lecturing– on how I’d attracted the illnesses and if I’d dis-identify with the illness I would be fine, but obviously I was stuck in some bad karma or my chakras were out of whack or something along those lines, and tossed some new age books, including the one he’d authored, (available on Amazon now! lol) on the bed and left– but I was so sick I couldn’t give any feedback, or even read the books. I’d already read *his* book–before I got sick.
My “good ex husband” came over daily & brought food and water, picked up my meds from the pharmacy, etc. If it weren’t for the good ex I might have lost my mind. The attic room had no phone, TV or internet. The spath rarely came up to ask, “how are you doing?”In fact he never asked how I was—he’d come up once a week, if that, to see if I could “listen” to his lectures. I was far too sick for his lectures, and he needed some kind of positive feedback I could no longer give. His in-house supply source was now a worthless body…
If the good-ex couldn’t come over that day, the spath–to his credit–would bring me food, throw it on the bed–literally threw it from the doorway, and left. But at least I had food–usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
A few years later I was living downstairs (out of that damn attic–which had no heating or air conditioning) had moved to the chronic stage out of the acute stage…and I had a routine mammogram.
Breast cancer runs in my mother’s side of the family: my mom died from it at age 47(diagnosed when she was 43), her 2 sisters had it but are OK post-mastectomies, so far, my grandmother had a double matsectomy and my cousin, at age 35 had a double mastectomy. Another cousin had a masectomy at age 39. So you can imagine how scary this is and how seriously almost all women in the family take this disease…(one aunt, my mom’s sister, had the test to see if we carry the gene. The test was negative–but it’s so prevalent we must be pre-disposed in some way)
The mammo results were mailed to me~~~a little pink postcard saying you need to return for further screening, please make an appt. immediately. I had to sit down, my legs wouldn’t hold me…I told the spath, “I need to return for a follow-up and I’m too freaked out to drive. Could you please take me?” Well, no, he couldn’t~~ it interfered with his meditation practice as well as anything else he wanted to do. Just “another drag” for him.
The good ex took me and after the mammogram honing in on one area, I was told to wait in another room by myself & the radiologist would come talk to me. It was surreal by this time..the dr. comes in, clips the mammogram on those boards lit from behind, and says, “See? Right here? This mass? We need to do an open biopsy ASAP. I’ll call the hospital and make arrangements. Now good home and relax, chances are it’s nothing, some benign thing…”
I go home and can’t relax. I tell the spath. He is unconcerned and not interested. If I mention it he tells me to take some Valium or whatever he had–he had a lot of pills, was in fact a prescription drug addict, along with pot and meth. So much for caring~~during the aptly named Love Bombing stage, it would have been completely different.
In the end I have an open biopsy under general anasthesia. The mass was removed and was benign~~but the dr. can’t find the spath. The spath had gone home without waiting for the results. The good ex was there and listened to the post-op instructions.
So the good ex drives me home and I get in bed. My breast was covered with all kinds of dressings, and it hurt~~so I did what my mom had done and rested that arm on a pillow. And am so relieved I was sort of giddy. “Dodged a bullet” giddy.
That evening the spath comes into the bedroom and lays crosswise on the end of the bed. And then he starts crying, sobbing, non-stop.
I thought, “Oh, he must have been so frightened for me and the surgery, the outcome. Wow. Poor guy”…so I tell him (again and again)(he never even asked what had happened—did they find anything? What’s next? Nothing)…So I tell him it’s OK, it was nothing bad, I just need to rest this arm and change the dressings, but it’s OK, really. Please don’t cry. And am genuinly touched that he was so concerned.
He looks up at me, says he isn’t upset about me, it’s HIS “LOST FEELINGS” he’s crying about….the fact that I got “all this attention” and HE DIDN’T. I had flashbacks to my mom coming home after one of her multiple surgeries and how no one, not even my evil father, would have done this…he never asked anything…simply feeling SELF-PITY because I’d seen the dr, had an out-patient surgery, and that qualified for his FEELING SORRY FOR HIMSELf.
I regret now I didn’t do at the time, and it did occur to me, to slide down in the bed and roll him off to the floor. Would have been so easy…
Instead I sympathized with him, said how sorry I was, how hard it must have been for him. His tears dried up because now we were on the subject that mattered most: HIM.
An early red flag: he told me his university friend “Jim” had been married, until she died, to a woman who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. The spath would say, often, “I don’t know why “Jim” didn’t just divorce her. What a fucking drag.” I’d always say, well, it must have been hell for “Jim” to see his wife suffer. And he’s a real mensch. He honored his vows. I can’t imagine walking away from a spouse because they were sick.” The spath ignored that. All he could see was that “Jim” was a chump for staying with her.
My (denial) reaction to that red flag: Well, if I ever got sick he wouldn’t dump me…he’s just never been in that situation.
If I’d had cancer, there’s no doubt in my mind, none, that he would have kicked me out.
So much for caring. But he did get a lot of mileage from my CFS…his friends and followers thought he was *awesome* for TAKING CARE OF ME WHEN I WAS SICK….except, of couse, he didn’t. Other than the occasional peanut better sandwich, he did NOTHING.
Once in those 7 months in the attic I asked him to stay and talk to me. He said, “What?? Talk to you about WHAT? I’m bored! I don’t know what I’d get out of it.” And he left.
What an Ass.
Oxy:
I love the branding idea! I’ve branded a lot of calves in my life, they were all OK, but one someone’s forehead? Hell Yes! They’d need to get real creative, Donald Trumpish– about their hairistyles to try and cover that! lol
CAmoom, One of my favorite jokes is about the ” Alphabet Ranch” and their brand is A. B. C. and so on up to Z, but they don’t have many cattle, cause very few SURVIVE THE BRANDING! So I think if we brand the whole word, Psychopath, on the Ps there won’t be very many survive the branding! LOL
We ear tag’em down here cause it’s easier and they are less likely to tear the tags out than in “rougher” country, plus, my cattle are Scots Highland so you couldn’t see the brands anyway for the HAIR! Plus mine all have tattoos in their ears as well, but even those are hard to see even in a head chute cause of the hair. I don’t have many now, just a few for our own beef, and with just two of us, the 9 head I have is 7 too many! But I love to look at’em and the older ones are former show heifers and halter broken and will follow you into hell for a piece of bread out of your hand.
I think as long as we have the Ps in the chutes, we might as well neuter them while we are at it! Might take some of the starch out of their jeans at least til they healed up. I’ve got this old DULL knife I dig in the garden with, you could use that. If you don’t have any practice, you could take a try or two on the first couple while you learned to do it in say “half an hour!” Gosh I am getting TERRIBLE. BOINK!!!! On MY head! Down girl! LOL
Feeling shaky tonight. Can I ask someone if you felt suddenly very alone after NC? How did you handle it.. trying to stay busy but can’t be busy all the time. I realize now how much of my life was tied into what he did, said, phone calls, etc. Asking for help understanding how to handle these feelings.
Oxy, I love the neutering concept to stop the madness once and for all! heehee
Camom- Im sorry for all the grief you went thru with that subhuman!! I am so glad he is gone! What a waste of flesh these parasites are! fUR REEAL,,, what benefit are they? Pestilence of the world….