Editor’s note: Lovefraud received the following story from a reader whom we’ll call Cathy19. Names have been changed.
To start my ex husband was clinically diagnosed as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) with sociopath tendencies and OCD (random I know but wanted to be thorough). I had five years of marriage and two kids with him. Almost ten years later I’m still dealing with him but distance between us geographically has helped.
On the downside I remarried, which is how the geographical divide came about. After six months in court being attacked from all angles by the ex in an effort to stop the move, it turns out the good guy I thought I knew and had now married…was undeniably NPD yet it’s unclear how deep and how dark this well runs.
He’s currently on a campaign smear about town, claiming he’s being abused by me and I’m gas lighting him, despite the fact he kicked up this campaign after he rushed at me in a rage over the door to the bedroom being left open last Monday morning, following that with him announcing he’s taking his son and leaving and the full rent plus bills would be due in three days. (I lost my job in December and was encouraged repeatedly by him to not rush to find another but that’s another side story.) This left me with my two young sons with no money, no means to generate money fast enough to cover what was due now, plus I’d given him $500 a few days before specifically to go towards rent.
I asked him what happened to the $500, not knowing it had been spent on anything else.
He lost his mind, flew in to rage, slamming the glass door to the porch where I was sitting, pacing back and forth half on to the porch half back inside full blown rage. Called me a c*nt and lectured me over the cost of rent and how I didn’t have a job, then back to name calling, then poof! He charged off.
Suddenly I hear walls vibrating inside from his full voltage fist of fury attack. He wailed on the walls until his hands bled. Then resurfaced to the porch… All I could say was “walk away Tom. That’s enough.”
Shortly after he left, the onslaught of texts started ranting about how I’m gas lighting him, how I’m abusing him and how he isn’t to blame for everything. I pointed out he’d actually attacked me…there’s no grey area there…and to please stop claiming he’s being gas lighted, as it’s an insult to those of us who’ve truly lived through it.
That was all it took, he was off and rubbing around town … talking to the police, talking to various domestic hotlines, rallying his soldiers and building his case … I still have no clue why either, I mean, no one’s forcing you to be married buddy. It’s an at-will marriage, kick rocks man, but why the need to knowingly traumatize me like this?
He’s quoted claims my ex husband had made in the legal papers he filed to block my move here, he made crazy claim after crazy accusation, and here I am again looking around wondering why? What the f*ck does he get from this? How insane must a person be to intentionally go this route? To involve the police and risk me losing my kids, all because this idiot can’t handle his own reality?
Omg. I was married to a high functioning masterful NPD/sociopath.
Crazymaking by the ex-husband
It’s sick to say but after the number my ex husband worked on me … the heartache the crazymaking the foggy reality knowing that exact second you felt you inner spark extinguish … my ex husband took the sparkle that made me special and methodically put it out. It took years to even understand that this wasn’t normal… After his last few attacks I filed a TOP on him. Life went from hell to the very darkest list of hell … He manipulated my family from me, his own family railed against me, I went from being at home mom to working overnight and couldn’t figure out up from down or happened so fast my kids heads were reeling,
I’d started drinking excessively which made me gain weight which fueled new attacks during his stalking moments. (I worked from home after initial training.) He’d corner me at home and rage at me through the window, through locked doors, over the back porch fence … while I was training in office at first he’d come into the house taking various things, searching for court info.
When he finally got around to picking up the kids for his visitation he’d send one, random pic of the boys, the only pic ever he didn’t inject himself into (always photos of him and the boys, the look at me I’m an awesome parent” picture montage) … but he’d send that one without him and just them, doing nothing but eating dinner …wearing clothes I knew I had just put into their drawers the night before. The whole thing was so seemingly innocent on the surface and so menacing underneath. Out of everything he did to me that chilled me to the core for some reason.
All the while there’s so much more happening… He was a serial cheater … it was a sport to him, the hunt, the game play ….the sex, he couldn’t live without it. I found out by year three, while pregnant with our second boy. After it was all said and done this guy racked up such body count I was so numb from the pain of being betrayed relentlessly, the hurt and humility of having been a top athlete, a model and successfully in my career path when we married, to be torn down so cruelly on so many levels, only to find out that here he was, the love of my life…willing to throw down with anyone dumb enough to fall for his “OMG my wife and kids sob story” WHAT?
He cheated on me with anything that might have a pulse THEN used me to seal the deal and bag the girl. I mean the body count was naive to the point I finally found myself thinking….”all right man, F*ck it … well done to you.” That’s sick. Looking back now … how numb I was to react that way, how accustomed I’d become to the kids and the cheating and the attacks …
Even my kids had adjusted…I asked my then 5-year-old if he and his baby brother could settle down one beautiful afternoon as they rode their tiny bikes in circles on the back porch…I said “daddy’s going to be home soon as he sounds kinda crabby.” I asked my 5 year old is he knew what crabby meant… He did “yes, it means daddy’s going to be mean to mommy.” I felt myself fall apart on the inside … How had I let this happen?
Bonus round of poor marital judgment
There’s so much more and you may or may not be interested in it but it felt good to ramble it out. Wish me luck with the second bonus round of poor marital judgment.
It’s bullsh*t you know … if you’re a psycho BE A DAMN PSYCHO upfront. Own it. Give a girl a chance to know what’s she’s signing on to. Don’t act like a world-class superstar to reel us in, then turn into another sick twisted disappointment, reeking of insecurity and mommy issues. Argh.