If there is a single category of memories that still can make me squirm, it is the remembrance of what I did to make my sociopath love me. And what I did simply to keep him from hurting me. And what I did to try to understand the things I must have done wrong, because he didn’t love me. And all the ways I pretzel-twisted my brain to excuse him for his lies, deception, disrespect and greed.
The topic of this article is the next phase of healing from a sociopathic relationship: bargaining.
We are in the process of healing from the moment we sustain any emotional trauma. Relationships with sociopaths typically involve many traumatic events, both large and small. Some of these events are the “blows” of insults, coldness and various types of violence or violation of our trust. But these blows, however painful they may be, are less damaging than the events that threaten our identities by making us question our own values and ability to trust ourselves
Bargaining is one of the two ways we negotiate with pain. The first is denial, which was discussed in the last article, Part 3. Denial enables us to postpone facing trauma, until we’re ready, or until we’ve found support that can help us think it through. In denial, we make a temporary deal with ourselves not to think about it and to block our normal feelings. It’s an interior mechanism, a way to control our own reactions.
Shifting Denial to the Outside World
Bargaining is an advance on denial because, at least, we are beginning to negotiate with the outside world, rather than our own psyches. But like denial, bargaining is magical thinking. We’re still not dealing directly with the facts as though they were real. We are finding reasons to make them unreal, and looking for ways that we can influence the situation so that it becomes we want it to be.
“She’s just acting cold, because she’s had a bad time and needs to get over it. If I am more loving, she will warm up.”
“He is being so rude to the waitress, because he came from a background of uncaring people. If I show him how much better service he’ll get if he’s courteous, he’ll see that it’s true and become the gentle, caring person I know he really is inside.”
“She’s sleeping around because she’s insecure about her looks or afraid that I don’t really love her. If I try to be more supportive and more complementary, she’ll come to recognize that no one has ever loved her more.”
“He’s telling me that I don’t deserve to be loved, because he secretly feels he doesn’t deserve to be loved. If I convince him that he’s lovable, it will open his heart.”
“He never shows up when I need him, runs profiles on dating sites, and disappears for days or weeks. He says everything would be better if I trusted him, so I’ll try to trust him more.”
In each of these examples, we are faced with evidence that the person is, at minimum, behaving in ways that we don’t like. If we want to analyze it further, we could say that this person is behaving as though they don’t care how we feel. Or if we wanted to characterize the person by his or her behavior, we could say that he or she is acting like a selfish, out-of-control sleezeball. But we don’t have to do any analysis at all to simply check our own feelings and determine that we are not happy about it. Or that it causes us pain.
In the bargaining phase, we are ready to acknowledge our own pain and the material fact that is causing us pain. However, we are not yet ready to connect all the dots in the sense of recognizing that we have a serious and unmanageable problem on our hands.
The Three Elements of Bargaining
The components of traumatic bargaining are three very different things. One is acknowledgement of the trauma. This is an important new stage in our healing process. It’s the first time since the trauma occurred that we consciously accept that something happened to us. That “something” came from outside of us. It was not something we did to ourselves.
The second component is our vision of how things ought to be. This could be how things used to be — like when we had our perfect lover. But it might be a vision of how we want things to be in the future — like when we and our perfect lover settle down in a “happily ever after” relationship. There are all kinds of possible visions of reality that we are trying to get to, or get back to. Particularly in relationships with sociopaths, where there are so many different types of trauma — identity, emotional, physical, sexual, financial, etc.— we may be holding tight to any one of a variety of visions.
The final component is the bargaining itself, which is a kind of bridge between the unwanted reality and the desired vision. That bridge is made up of all the things we are willing to do to earn that reality.
Bargaining is a basic skill of life, an everyday event in which we negotiate with family, friends, employers, customers to find satisfactory shared outcomes. We even negotiate with inanimate objects, like regularly changing the oil to get longer service from our cars. These little trades in life are so common we hardly notice them. We make little deals all day long, as we pragmatically navigate around and through all the things we have to accommodate in our lives.
However, post-traumatic bargaining has a different flavor that puts it squarely in the realm of magical thinking. Instead of negotiating for some future outcome, we are trying to change a here-and-now fact. The fact is not what our sociopaths did, but what their actions say about them. We don’t want them to be what they appear to be.
In this bargaining, we are appealing to someone or something that we imagine has the power to change that fact. In attempting to solicit its cooperation, we are hoping or believing that we can convince that power source to care about us.
Please, God, if you’ll only”¦
That beginning of a supplicant prayer ends with “and I promise I’ll”¦” Please, God, if you’ll only help me pass this test, I promise I’ll do my geography homework forever. Or we may not bring God into it. We may wear our lucky underwear to the game, so we’ll sink more basketballs. Or if I sign over my paycheck or dress like a floozy or rush to get you another beer when you toss the empty over your shoulder, maybe you’ll love me.
Doing a rain dance may not appear to equate with trying to have a happy relationship with a sociopath, but it has similarities. One of those similarities is that we are depending on formal rules that we imagine are something like infallible. So, if we are very, very, very good, and follow the rules punctiliously, then the result will be that the sociopath loves us or that the sociopath will be zapped with some cosmic healing ray that makes it possible for him to love at all.
While bargaining is a developmental advance over denial, it has one big similarity with denial. That is, we still feel like we have some power, even if we now recognize that most of the power resides elsewhere. In terms of our volunteering or collaboration, we’ve stepped up to the “can-do” plate, and we’re trying to fix the situation. Maybe this will work. Maybe that will. We’re operating on hope or faith in our own magic.
Our approach to this is childlike, in the sense that we are defining that outside power as something there to fulfill our desires. As all of us have learned one way or another, trying to elicit “love” from a sociopath is like trying to get attention from the devil. We may get the attention, but it is very, very expensive.
In fact, our very belief in these rules — whether they are the rules of courtesy or Christian behavior or how we imagine lovers are supposed to act — is something that sociopaths use against us. They make us feel guilty for not trusting them. Or concerned about how pitiful they are. Or crushed because we are doing all the right things, and still not succeeding in being loved.
The Craziest Phase
The bargaining phase is characterized by hope and frustration. It is also the first real learning phase of recovery. We have acknowledged that there is something wrong, and we are experimenting with solutions to fix it.
Until we’ve learned enough to realize that we can’t avoid the unpleasant facts, we are in what might be characterized as the “craziest” part of our recovery. We’re throwing good energy after bad. We’re doing the same things that worked for us in other relationships, over and over, without getting results. We don’t understand the rules of the game. We don’t know what else to do except be better and nicer and more giving, and our judgment about what we can afford to lose goes haywire.
Our pain and disbelief about the nature of this relationship are only one kind of bargaining trigger. We are probably in the bargaining stage with other traumas, like the loss of our money or possessions or jobs or professional credibility or our children’s safety or our privacy or our hope of simple break-up. We can become absolutely frantic with bargaining. We may feel like we’ve got so many plates in the air we can’t even remember our names.
This can be particularly true in after-effects of a sociopathic relationship, which can seem more traumatic than the relationship itself. As we detox from the hypnotic effect of the sociopath’s influence, we may finally emerge from denial about our losses. We may attempt to negotiate recovery of things we lost. We may appeal to other sources of power, like the police or the legal system, only to discover that no one believes us because the sociopath has done such a good job of characterizing us as unstable or untrustworthy. Or because no one knows anything about sociopaths, and assumes that we’re exaggerating.
In dealing with sociopaths, one of the most difficult things is to determine which situations we can control and what is out of our control. Our own histories as competent and effective people make it hard for us to give up trying to find a solution. Before we give up, we are likely to lower our expectations of fairness, understanding and support, not only from the sociopath, but from the legal system as well as our previous social support systems, like friends and family. As sad as this may seem, it is all part of the great information-gathering exercise that bargaining is.
The First Clarity
Just as denial gave us the gift of time, bargaining has its own gifts. One is a great deal of new factual knowledge about the world we live in. Many of us say that we wished we never learned what we learned in these experiences. But like them or not, these are realities about the people and circumstances we may face in our lives. Knowing them will eventually make us smarter, stronger and more confident in taking care of ourselves.
We also learn the lengths to which we’ll go, if there is something we want badly enough. Some of that is good news and other parts make us uncomfortable. But like the facts about the world, this will be useful information when we are farther in our recovery process.
The most important gift of knowledge comes from our successes and failures in bargaining with the sociopath. We learn that we “succeed” when we’re willing to give up anything we have and everything we are. We learn that we “lose” when we attempt to hold onto our own identities and independent resources.
Eventually, those of us who are going to be survivors come to recognize a very important fact. It’s a fact that was in front of us from the minute we realized that we were not happy with what was going on or that we were in pain. That fact is that the sociopath causing our pain.
There are a few additional facts that we may figure out at this point (depending on which trauma we are working on). One is that the sociopath doesn’t want to be fixed. Another is that the sociopath doesn’t care about our pain.
In this knowledge, we face the reality that nothing we can do will make the sociopath behave like a feeling human being. No matter how many opportunities we have to please the sociopath, or earn love, or prove our worth, or gain trust, we cannot change the wiring of the sociopathic emotional system. And worse, our attempts to “bargain” for love or any form of caring tend to cause us more losses. Whatever we give, whatever we do, whatever pleas we make for compassion or understanding, it is like throwing ourselves against a Teflon wall.
Helping Ourselves
These insights open the doorway into the next big phase, anger, which will be the topic of the next article. In the meantime, it’s a good thing to remember that we may be experiencing various phases at the same time, especially since we are likely to be processing many different types of events. All of the phases have their reason and their importance in healing.
As the “craziest” of the phases, our bargaining phase is the time that we are most likely to be making other people crazy too — whether we’re still inside the relationship or we’ve stopped it but are still trying to fix it some part of it. Our family, our friends, anyone who cares about us may become frustrated with us or even cut us off. When everyone outside this relationship can clearly see that something is wrong — either with us or with our lovers — they become understandably impatient with us, if we are acting like we in the middle of a great work in progress, rather than in the middle of a train wreck.
If the bargaining phase can be characterized as addictive behavior on our side, because we’re totally focused on getting love or validation to “fix” our pain, it’s unlikely that we’re going to be open to intervention. Likewise, finding the power in ourselves to intervene is not likely.
But if we could, or if there is a part of us that is watching aghast at what’s going on, it would be a good time to start keeping a ledger of losses. Even if it’s only a mental record, but writing it down would be better. Start keeping a list of the betrayals, the financial losses, the insults, the lies, the sabotage, the demands to compromise our values, all the things that make us less than we formerly were.
Keeping this list may be the hardest thing we ever do when we’re inside the relationship, because it is exactly the kind of thing a sociopath would view as disloyalty or distrust. To the extent that our feelings are co-opted, we may feel guilty about doing it. But if we can do it — and it’s equally valuable to do after the relationship is over — we reestablish connection with our own identities and feelings, instead of seeing the world though the lens of the sociopath’s intentions.
Keeping the “black list” or the “sad list” or the “list of disappointments” will help us move through the bargaining stage faster. It will help us find our anger, which is where we start to regain our power over our lives and our hearts.
Namaste. The courageous healing spirit in me salutes the courageous healing spirit in you.
Kathy
Dearest Erin brock,
-you rock! thank you so much for your kind, encouraging words.Youre right, Ive learned a helluva lot in 6 months! I had no clue about ‘gaslighting,” mirroring” deflecting,but most of all I have learned that they NEVER EVER CHANGE, and that they even fool psychotherapists and pass lie detecter tests, because they believe their own lies!I did what you and Oxy suggested, David and I went out for a nice lunch at our club.I remember the quote from the french writer, Anais Nin. If you are on a life raft,and trying to rescue a drowning person, you are trying to pull him/.her onto the raft, but he is trying to pull you into the water. At some point, you have to LET GO of that hand, and save yourself!! Thats it, in a nutshell, really!
Oxy, I never thought of the fact I have indirectly helped my Grandkids, by ensuring they are now full time with their dad, who is a GREAT parent to them. he gives them lots of love, security and BOUNDARIES.! Thanks again, you can safely put away your skillett! And much love to both of you!! {{HUGS!!}}} Gem.XXX
Hi! I posted about 3 weeks ago under another id…one that I thought my ex-sociopath bf might recognize. Just wanted to say how much the blogs have helped me go to the next level of healing after 1 year and 3 months of kicking the sociopath out of my my home. He tried to ‘gaslight’ me, and stole from me, slandered and stalked me. I’ll get back with more info. Just wanted to let ya’ll know how much this blog has helped me understand, and forgive myself.
Love you all. You have helped me more than you will ever know. nomornomore
Just to make myself clear I don not have cancer. Sorry I didn’t make that clear but didn’t want any one to think otherwise.
Thanks and goodnight.
Okay , this should have been on another post. Obviously I am sotired. 🙁
Hi Becoming,
Saw you mention Caroline Myss and her ideas of “calling your spirit home.” So interesting–I tried to read one of her books but I think they were very abstract and hard to grasp. Even harder, to find that HOME within me to call my spirit back.
And OxDrover,
Thanks for the encouraging note–I agree about being the “perfect victim” when I first met my husband 20 yrs ago, but it is SO hard to accept that label, and SO hard to see my husband, my family, the father of my child, in such a harsh, malevolent light. Is that denial? Is that my naivete in wanting to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and believe that no one wants to intentionally hurt other, especially their loved ones.
I don’t know how to track/find any of my posts or responses to them. After a few days, I forget where I had posted before.
Dear Warrior,
I don’t know how to either, I’m really not all that computer or internet savy, I put it to my lack of desire to learn back wehn my husband was trying to teach me! I kept saying “why do I need to learn when I ahve you to do it for me?” Well, I’ve been without him for 5 1/2 years now. You might e mail Donna when she gets back off vacation or maybe someone else here can tell you.
The 5 or 6 most recent posts are up on the left side of the screen and that is basically all I can tell you about how to find RECENT posts, but if you aren’t here every day or several times per day that won’t help if there is a lot of traffic on posts. Most days there are plenty, some days not many.
I’m a junkie so most check in between doing this or that thing around the house or farm. My computer is in a convenient place to check easily and quickly.
LF is my life-line and though i’ve been here about 2+ years it is a place I learn something new EVERY DAY! I used to think I could just work on an individual problem and solve or grieve over that and be “healed” but now I relaize that healing is a journey, and never totally accomplished, but new and wonderful insights can be learned and put into practice each day. I think that in the past when I dealt with the trauma from a P, I never truly resolved the pain trauma and injury because I didn’t truly learn what caused it was that I ALLOWED it from my lack of boundaries and from the ideas I had that some relationships cant be BROKEN because of blood or “friendship” of long duration, no matter how horrible those people treat you. Now I know that no relationship is sacrosanct no matter how close. ALL people in my life must treat me with respect and consideration to be allowed to remain in my life.
It’s been a long time coming (too soon old, too late smart!) but I’m getting the message finally! And it feels good! I’m no longer feeling responsible for all the self-caused troubles of everyone in the world.
Dancing Warrior,
I love your name. And if it reflects your stage of healing, I think it’s extra cool, because it suggests that you have found the joy in your anger. Action to protect ourselves and the people we love is a beautiful form of activism, a statement that we will not collaborate but will fight back against the sources of harm.
You wrote about the difficulty of understanding Carolyn Myss, and also your difficulty in seeing the intimates in your life in “such a hard, malevolent light.”
Your words, if you’ll forgive my gratuitous observation, describe your bias. You are confusing self-caring with harsh judgment. And given what you said about not grasping Carolyn Myss’s teaching, I suspect that your healing has not progressed to understanding that you are not just a function — like a warrior or a healer or a good daughter or wife — but that something unique and wonderful resides in you.
One of the functions of the angry phase of healing — and it tends to be toward the end, and one of the things that facilitates entry into the next phase of grieving and acceptance — is an awareness that within these boundaries we build around ourselves is something. If we are making decisions about what what is external to us, not really part of us at all (like other people’s bad behavior), we are also moving toward the understanding that there is something inside of us that is real, solid, and separate from the world we live in.
When I got to this point and tried to articulate it, it was an idea of an observing self. Yes, there were parts of me that interacted with the world, and felt good or bad about what happened. But there was something else more central. At first it seemed like a cool and uninvolved eye. The later, I realized it was playful and interested, constantly learning and inspiring me to reach out and affect the world with my interested actions. Sometimes reaching out was about healing or taking care of myself, and sometimes it was about trying to affect the world in some way that had nothing to do with me.
As a survivor of childhood abuse, with a really damaged sense of myself and what I could expect from the world, the realization that I had this center was life-changing. I always knew that I should feel differently, less empty or frightened or depressed, but up to that point, all I could do about it was try to create better rules or learn more about the world. This insight changed all that. In one microsecond, it was like my uncentered psyche that had been floating all over the place just got anchored into a solid center inside me.
What this did for me immediately was to give me a simple way of judging anything that affected me. Was it good for me or bad for me? Did it nourish me or drain me? Did it feed my long-term well-being or create a future in which I was sadder and weaker? (Notice I’m not judging people, just influences on me.)
At that point, anger became a tool — a message from my survival system to let me know that something was threatening me and I needed to do something about it. Anger was no longer something I had to maintain at some level all the time, because I was concerned about missing some threat in a dangerous world. The world itself became more varied, and I began to understand that I had choices at all kinds of levels I never perceived before (because I was so busy with anticipating danger and being self-defensive).
There were a lot of insights, a lot of learning, that I went through after this recognition of my center. Some of it had to do with seeing the real reason I was healing. I needed to get all those old traumas resolved, because the static they were creating kept my conscious mind from direct access to my center. Some of it had to do with getting grounded in reality, which became a lot easier, when I felt more solid with myself. (I’d always been one of those “flight to spirituality” people, who were really good at talking about principles but absolute s**t at living coherently.) And some of it had to do with getting to know that center a little better.
To even study my center, I had to figure out ways to get past all the post-traumatic noise in my head and all the “shoulds” I was carrying around. (Like your idea you’re not allowed to judge anyone else’s behavior, because that would mean that you were harsh and malevolent.) To my surprise, when the noise started getting in the way, I found that “oh shut up” actually turned out to be useful for clearing the air, at least temporarily. (I still had to go resolve those old traumas that were creating most of the noise.) Or I could bargain with the various anxious or critical voices, telling them I’d pay attention to them later, so I could have an uninterrupted chat with my center.
To get back to Carolyn Myss’s idea of spirit, I found something interesting in these visits. One was that I was probably accessing a pre-traumatic self. Someone who was closer to who I was supposed to be, and I was able to learn a lot about my true values and the deep desires that had been driving my life. But perhaps even more important, I realized that I was probably as close as a human being can get to the soul.
I’d had a breakdown in my 20s, and in recovery had a metaphysical experience, that left me with a strong sense that I was connected to God in some way. An idea that was supported by something I’d carried on from my Catholic upbringing that God is in everything. Well, when I started getting in touch with my center, I began to grasp this more concretely. That I, as a human being, was a kind of vehicle through which God experiences life. And that cool, interested, learning, inspiring eye in my center might just be that bit of God in me.
I’ve worked my way through quite a bit of Myss’s teaching on healing, and one of the things she keeps hammering on is that the healing energy does not come from us. We are just serving as conduits. (And if we forget that, we are very likely to damage ourselves in working with other people’s disease, not to mention our egos getting whacked out with overblown ideas of how powerful and important we are)
So this doesn’t exactly address your issue of calling your spirit back home, but more discovering the spirit within you. Still, I suspect that the viewpoint depends on where you start. When my psyche was still very dispersed — in terms of not knowing how to tell the difference between me and not-me, and more particularly in feeling responsible for other people’s feelings and behaviors — calling my spirit back home would have been a logical way to look at the task in front of me. These days, my task is to keep the air clear between my center and my conscious mind. And that includes respecting my body and the messages of my emotional/nervous system.
I hope this makes sense, and is a little helpful. It’s very much my story, but perhaps you can pull something out of it for you.
Kathy
Kathy,
I appreciate your story about finding your center, or feeling that observing self within.
I first heard “call your spirit home” or any variation to it from my yoga teacher, who also requeired that I read Anatomy of the Spirit for my yoga teacher homework, among a gazillion other books on healing/spirituality.
Had I not done the yoga teacher training, I would probably not have had the courage to stand up to my husband and separate from him.
I can relate strongly to what you said here: “Was it good for me or bad for me? Did it nourish me or drain me?”
When I felt the pain from my husband’s behavior, I think that survival instinct awoke and pushed me to fight back. As a child I developed a view of the world as an unsafe place, and a view of myself as defenseless–adults in my life did not come to my defense.
I wrongly believed that my husband was my protector. I awoke to the pain one day and knew deep down that his actions/treatment of me was BAD for me, DRAINED me, made me feel SAD and HURT. Something in me wanted to burst out–I may have mentioned in some post–I screamed in the shower this primeval, wordless scream that had “NO!!!” behind it.
What puzzles me is that now, almost 2 years after I separated from him, I am not sure, I vacillate, I second guess myself, I fear the loss, I tend to forget the pain I felt and his utter disregard for how his actions affected me.
Humor me here for a moment: I have a photo of me as a 6-year-old, just lovely, but my eyes look scared, cautious, and my lips and chin have the sad expression, as if I were used to disappointment, or in a state of readiness at the next danger. I look at that picture and it breaks my heart. I want to HUG that little girl. I want her to relax and smile. To RUN wild and play, to have fun, to scream with laughter, to feel that she is good and precious. But the photo looks so timid and wary. That I guess is the closest concrete understanding I have of my spirit–wanting to give compassion and nurturing to that being that is still within me, and like a mother would protect a child, to be on the lookout for any harm and shield that little person from harm and danger. Just as I have done with my daughter.
Thank you.
Dancing Warrior
Oh Dancing Warrior, that is such a good impulse. And you are so perceptive and close to putting something really important together.
I don’t want to derail you, by giving you too much information. This is something you have to do for yourself. But if you can go into your memory of how you felt when you were that age, and be there in your adult self alongside of your child self, you can help her judge her circumstances more objectively, to see what she’s not getting that she needed, and promise her that you will be there for her. Replace the inadequate parents with someone who really knows and cares what she needs.
This is re-parenting, and it can be incredibly powerful. You grew up with a certain level of despair that has affected both your sight and your expectations. You can’t change the past, but you can change the meaning of it.
I’m an incest survivor, and I had to get a therapist to help me go back there. But when I did, I stood beside myself, felt how I felt then, how abandoned, how I had to grow up in ways I wasn’t ready for and that short-changed me of all the normal development I needed to go through, and left me terrified that if I didn’t bury this immediately I was going to grow up to be a whore and drug addict, and I looked at the situation through my adult eyes. I saw how alone I was, and how there was no one to support me or help me. I saw how my father had reached some sort of low point in his character and his ability to handle life, and was turning into a monster destroying his children. I saw what kind of resources I had, and what I had done with them.
And I had an important talk with my younger self. Telling her that she was going to survive this and grow up into a more interesting life than she ever could imagine now. That she was a smart and brave girl, and had done amazingly with managing this horror show. That she had nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about. That she should have had help and support to stop him and heal from this before it affected her life. But that I was there now. And I was taking care of healing from it, and I had the resources and commitment to get it done. We were going to be okay, and she was free now to be who she would have been, if none of this ever happened. And she could begin to grow up through what she missed without being afraid, and I would be honored to live through it with her, because I loved her with all my heart.
I had one other major visit to my past, and that was all the way back to about three years old, when I first learned that no one was going to protect me. And I did that too.
And then I lived through the really interesting experience of growing up with the undeveloped parts of myself. The parts that had lost faith in their entitlement to be loved, cared for, treated respectfully, to be allowed to experiment and play, to care about myself, to say no to what wasn’t good for me. A lot of what I know about the healing path comes from this belated evolution of my personality, and the stages I had to go through, many of them in cycles, returning over and over to the same issues but from a higher perspective.
You figured out your husband wasn’t your protector. But you’re still working on who is your protector. You feel adrift because you’re accepting that you have no protector and don’t know how to be with that knowledge.
It’s not true. You have a protector and a great parent too. You just have to step up.
I promise it will make the world a lot less scary for you. And you’ll never meet anyone who knows more about taking care of you.
Affectionately —
Kathy
Kathy,
Thank you for these encouraging words. I do appreciate your personal story.
The re-parenting process is hard and slow. I think that my therapist is guiding me through that, and I have so much to learn about how to comfort myself, and stay “inside” with myself. She is like a pretend mother to me, the way she offers care and mirrors my goodness to me. Even offered a hug once when I was a mess.
I understand all this very well intellectually, but emotionally not there yet.
I guess I am stuck in the childish thinking, “it’s unjust!” “it’s unfair!” and wanting to prove to the absent parents how wrong they were. But no one is there to hear it, making it more lonely and unjust. 🙂
Thank you.
Dancing Warrior