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
Oxy, I love that about the truth making us free. There is another one I used to have on my refrigerator, something about when one door closes, another opens, but these hallways are hell.
Here’s a thought about your mother. Or rather about talking about the situation. I’m with you about not volunteering information about personal situations, mostly because I figure that people are going to project their own stuff on whatever I say. And I don’t want to become a player in their dramas.
But if it comes up, you might say, “She’s chosen to take a rest from me.” And you could throw in some cute self-deprecating comment.
This may seem like a twisted way of stating the facts. But it’s actually true.
This is pure boundary stuff. You just drew a line. You told her what the terms of relationship are with you. She can do what she pleases. But not in your life. If she chooses to do what you can’t tolerate, then she is choosing to do it without you.
When you saw her and she attempted to diminish it, it seems to me that she was saying, “Oh, you didn’t really mean that.” And you were saying, “Yes, I did. You knew what my terms were. You made your choice. And now you’re living with the repercussions. If you don’t like it, take a look at your own behavior, because I’m not moving on this.”
As someone here recently wrote (was it you?), the first time you draw lines with someone who is used to you having softer boundaries, it’s messy. It usually takes them a while to grasp that things have changed. And while that happens, they are just so pitifully confused and you are being so unreasonable.
I hope that she figures out at some point that you’re giving her a choice. And that her relationship with you depends on the choice she makes.
The thing that REALLY pisses me off about losing this support system is that it’s not just any support system. I meet people and make friends really easily. I have sympathetic friends I can talk to any time. The snake forums are very unique and irreplaceable. I cannot put up ads in condo and apt complexes because it will freak people out and I will get in trouble. I have to keep them low key. I tried putting up ads on Craigs list. I got some trolls and lonely needy guys with iguanas who want to date me. It’s not just that the site is a support system. It is my main source of support for the snakes. It makes having snakes much more more interesting. For instance, if I get bit, I can post a picture and we can all laugh about our “badge of honor” and being in the bleeder’s club.” If I show my bite to a normal friend, they just say, “That’s disgusting!” Snake people are just a different group. And they are some of the funnest people to goof around with at the end of a hard day at work. I feel like a huge part of my life is ripped away. I swear, if I ever see that sociopath, I’m gonna wrap my hands around his neck and………Or maybe I’ll just have my snake do it.
Kathleen, One of the best most concise descriptions of what it FEELS like to be around a P. Interesting that so many of us have described feeling “needy” and then settle for the facsimile.
That is the lasting gift from the P. If needy got me that, I am needy no more.
None, they do have feelings. But they only feel for themselves.
And virtually all their feelings are negative boredom, irritation, envy, resentment, frustration, anxiety, and despair. All about their own situations. Everything and everyone outside themselves are just props that are performing more or less according to their plans and desires.
star: There is a web-site for groups of people that want to get together for all sorts of fun stuff, you’ve probably heard of it… meetup.com … I belong to a couple of groups that are just women and we go to a movie, out to lunch, went to the race track one Friday night… anyway, the point is, you can go to the site and type in your interest and see if there is anyone else in your area interested in snakes or reptiles. My daughter belongs to a group where everyone in the group owns a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel!
Ox Drover,
It still blows my mind that your community doesn’t support you.
Your psychos are convicted criminals, and still people don’t get it. Wow!
In a way, that helps me accept that the rest of us should have little or no hope for our dupes.
Dear Elizabeth,
Part of the community does, but the vast majority, who are really “not close friends,” just neighbors, hear the gossip of that dumb witch who is my mother’s part time maid and tale bearer (you know how people like that love to spread the latest chit!)
There is also a strong sense of responsibility in the community for people “taking care of their parents” in their old age. Many people keep their aging parents in their homes, or move in with their parents to care for them. Even if someone puts a parent into a nursing home because they can’t care for them adequately, they probably visit 4-7 times a week to see that their care is adequate. So my NO CONTACT with my mother is a complete and total contrast to the community expectations. “After all, you only have one mother.” (and I am my mother’s only child, which makes it worse.)
Many people know that I DID move into my parents’ home, when my step dad was dying with cancer and mother had surgical complications, and stayed there for 18 months and cared for them, so those people are somewhat “confused” about why I am NC with mom now.
Also, my mom is well known as a “saint” in the community, and she plays the “poor pitiful old lady” role very well. There are many “reasons” why people in the community are not supportive of me. Few are openly hateful, though I have encountered one who was (the MIL of the maid), and of course the maid herself.
I have also not gone around the community smearing my mom, and generally I don’t tell the REAL story, just something along the line of “well, you know how old folks get strange ideas” (people will usually accept that).
As far as the part about the Trojan HOrse P and my X-DIL, people ARE supportive about that part…but also, few people know about my P-son in prison in TExas. Quite frankly, that whole story is so convoluted and so “outrageous” that people would think I was a pathalogical liar if I tried to tell them the tale with all it’s twists and turns. Heck my own therapist asked me to bring in documentation to prove I wasn’t a paranoid nut case! LOL
I’m just at the point now that I am caring less and less “what the neighbors think” and my mother cares TOTALLY what the neighbors think, she is careful to keep up her MASK in the community, and with all the little old ladies at the church etc. to play the “poor neglected saintly old woman” when she is anything BUT saintly. I can’t change much if any of this, so I am finally coming to the point that what those people think is of less and less importance to me. The PEOPLE WHO COUNT know the truth. I know the truth. What else matters? Nada.
Also, I think like the article said, that if they accepted the TRUTH of your situation, they would feel UNSAFE in their own life, and that is too much for them to handle. It is more comforting to believe “there is good in everyone” than to realize and accept the truth that there are EVIL people out there and they look just like the rest of us. That’s a scary thought, so they would rather be in denial than scared.
The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off!
Learing to validate ourselves I think is a big step and a necessary one.
” Quite frankly, that whole story is so convoluted and so “outrageous” that people would think I was a pathological liar if I tried to tell them the tale with all it’s twists and turns.”
“if they accepted the TRUTH of your situation, they would feel UNSAFE in their own life, and that is too much for them to handle.”
Ox Drover, you are so wise! It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but most of us are in the same boat, albeit to a lesser extent.
I’ve got a bit of good news. My son has just been “cured” of a very unusual middle ear disorder called a “congenital cholesteatoma”. He’s spent the first 10 years of his life with poor hearing and balance, as well as chronic headaches and quite a bit of stress. All that’s behind him now. His surgeon just performed a procedure to rebuild our son’s middle ear and confirm that the disease was gone. It is gone, and the rebuilding of his middle ear went well. There’s always a chance the cholesteatoma will return, but often they don’t. The occurrence of this disease to too small for there to be reliable statistics.
The local schools, (both public and Christian) have been a real pain through all of this. I’m afraid the other mother’s in this neighborhood have been kind of nasty too. In spite of the fact that my son is very well behaved and his condition is not contagious, they’ve pretty much kept him away from their little darlings. So called “nice” people made his life hell before we started home schooling, found an understanding church and became part of a good home-school co-op. Many searched for excuses to criticize me, because they needed to believe he was ill due to negligent parenting.
Now he enjoys performing in plays, ice skating, boy scouting and Sunday School. He does well in his studies.
The experience has changed us a lot. I look around at the people we associate with now, and I’m thankful. The circle of friends is smaller, but they’re true blue. Even though our son’s well now, I plan to keep the circle small and be cautious with new relationships.
Between the N, the S and our son’s struggles to be accepted in this community, I’ve learned some important lessons. We’re going to remain very careful in our relationships and the organizations we join.
Like you, I’ve come to realize that the opinions of most people simply don’t matter. Most people don’t know enough to have an informed opinion about the people they so carelessly judge. Luckily for them, they haven’t faced any real challenges in life. They just don’t know what it’s like.
Uh-oh! I just heard the words “Surrender puppy! Come out with your tail wagging – I’ve got you cornered!” Sounds like the dog is about to get nailed with a barrage of nerf fire. I guess I’d better depress morale with a spelling test and a couple hours of Math and Social studies!
Kathleen Hawk said:
“Regarding enjoying causing pain —
Mine did, under the right circumstances. Which basically boiled down to destroying someone who was in his way. ”
Oh boy, thit seems so familiar. I have listened endless hours of his grand schemes of undermining his friends and colleagues that did not buy into his games. He gathered personal information about people then used them in the right moment to stab them. He would have utter hatred for certain people (especially women in their 50’s and 60’s, mommy issues perhaps) He made fun of one woman he worked with; he said she did not have her first orgasm until she was in her fourties and she had her first orgasm with a black man. He thought this was so funny. I did not think this was so funny or as a proof what an idiot this woman was supposed to be. Why would this be any of his business anyways? But as a stupid patsy-brainwash of his, I just nodded.
He also once told me that when a friend of his was visiting from out of town, he made him walk a lot and would not give him time to eat because he thought that his friend was a “fat f**k”. This was the s sadistic punishment he enjoyed. He enjoyed toying with people, it gave control and meaning to his life
greenfern,
You reminded me of a couple of episodes with my sociopath. He liked physically strenuous recreation. He was young, strong, slim and short (an advantage in some sports like skiing). I, on the other hand, was (and am) middle-aged, chubby, and relatively inactive.
He suggested I learn to ski at 52. So I did. It was the physically the hardest and scariest thing I ever did, and I gave it up after he left, though I would love to become strong enough to do it again.
He took me on difficult hikes. I managed to keep up with him.
In Belize we climbed the highest pyramid with the steepest steps I’ve ever seen. (I’d climbed a smaller one in Mexico years before.) I wasn’t to the top as fast as him. But when I got there, I was a lot more exhilarated by the view. He was, as usual, lounging around sulking.
On the same trip, in another excursion he arranged (he was good at that), we hiked through the jungle and across rivers for an hour and a half to get to an underground cave. We had to swim across a small lake fully clothed to get into it, and then travel across rocks so treacherous that the guide had to tell us exactly where to place our feet, for another hour or so to get to a place where the Mayan priests hid out at times of war.
I can still remember his look of when I did these things, and his grudging little comments that he was surprised I could do them. He was expecting me to wimp out, because I wasn’t as strong as him. But he didn’t factor in how excited I always was to be doing these thing at all.
If I hadn’t finally gotten sick of him during the last chapter, we planned to take sailing lessons. Too bad, but maybe just as well. I suspect he planned to convince me to spend my little inheritance on a sailboat (and then “drop me off” in the middle of the ocean).
He too hated whole groups of people. Babyboomers should all be shot. He encouraged his dog to growl at homeless people on the street.
Nice guy.