He was arrested at 9:14 am on May 21, 2003. It was a sunny, blue sky morning. The birds were fluttering and twittering in the trees. The river flowed lazily by, meandering through the forest, dappled with sunlight, sparkling, clear.
We were in hiding. Had been since February 26 when we’d fled the city we lived in 1,000 miles away, heading west, heading to the US, he’d said. “I’ve got money there,” he insisted. “I’ll just leave this mess to my lawyers to fix. No sense hanging around waiting for them to get it cleared up. I’ll let you go once I’m out of the country,” he promised.
Like all his promises, like everything he’d ever said and done, it was all a lie.
On that morning in May, the lies fell apart and he was exposed. Two police officers walked in and took him away. “Are you on drugs?” one of them asked me as I sat, rocking back and forth, back and forth in a chair watching the scene unfold, a quiet, low keen seeping from my mouth. I was catatonic. I was not on drugs.
They took him away and I sat surveying the mess around me, trying to make sense of the mess of my life.
I hadn’t heard of No Contact with the abuser, but I knew after months of no contact with family and friends, I had to make contact with someone beyond the narrow confines of my world with him. He was gone. I had to reach out for help.
I called my sister who lived an hour away from where we had been in hiding. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t yell or scream at me. She came and got me.
No Contact was the only possibility. He didn’t have my sister’s number and it was unlisted. He did keep calling the couple who owned the cabin where we’d been staying. They called my sister, she advised them not to give him my number. He called my mother. She hung up on him, even though she felt it was rude. “He’s the man who almost killed your daughter,” I told her. “It is not rude to hang up on him. It’s vital to my well-being.”
I didn’t want to think about him but at times, my mind betrayed me. I’d be walking down a street and hear a cell phone ringing and it would be his ring. My mind would leap to thoughts of him. What was he doing? What was he saying? What was he telling people about me?
I posted No Trespassing signs in my mind. When thoughts of him intruded, I’d mentally hold up a sign and send the thoughts back to where they’d come from, my fear, my shame, my guilt.
I knew that one day I’d have to go through the thoughts of him and examine them, but for now, I had to give myself time to grow stronger. For now, it didn’t matter that I had to rid myself of his presence in my mind. That would come later. At first, what mattered most was that I build emotional strength so that I could eventually deal with thinking about him without making myself sick.
In those first minutes and hours and days weeks and months away from him I focused my thinking on me. On what had happened inside of me. On what I had to do to become healthy again.
The police asked me for a statement about anything I knew about his illegal activities. I had to do the right thing to show myself, remind myself; I was capable of doing ”˜the right thing’.
I wrote it down. It hurt. I was scared. What would he do when he found out I had ”˜told’ on him?
I couldn’t let my mind go there. The monster of him in my head was bigger than the reality of him, out there. Out there he was in jail. I had to escape the prison of my mind trapped in thinking of him. I held up my No Trespassing sign.
Focus on doing the right thing, I told myself.
I kept writing.
To remind myself that I was so much more than that five year relationship, that my life was made up of so many other important things than just ”˜him’, I made a list of things I’d done in my life that I was proud of. Being a mother topped my list. “What kind of mother are you really”, the voice of self-denigration whispered. “You deserted your children.”
I posted STOP signs in my head. Whenever self-doubt, negative self-talk invaded, I held up my STOP sign and consciously reframed the negative into more loving words. “I am a courageous woman. Yes, I did something I never imagined I would ever do as a mother. I was very, very sick. And now, the poison is gone and I am healing. I can make amends. I am reclaiming my life. I am courageous and growing stronger every day.”
I kept adding to my list of things I’d done that I was proud of. In Grade five I raised $122.00 for a charity by walking 21 miles. I was an honor student. Got a scholarship. I ran the marathon. Wrote a play with a group of street teens and produced it.
My list reminded me that I was capable of living in the world beyond the narrow corridor of his abuse. It reminded me that I was a competent, caring human being.
At first, I wanted to cry and cry and cry. At first, I did. And then I knew I had to build emotional muscle, to build my willpower. I gave myself a time limit for crying. It began with ten minutes on the hour, every hour. That was when I let myself cry. The other fifty minutes I had to do at least one constructive thing (Work on my resume. Phone about a job interview. Take a walk.) to take me one step further on my healing path. The ten minutes every hour became eight and then five and then only every two, then three, then four hours. Eventually, as I kept doing more and more things to take me on the healing path, I forgot to cry.
At first, I wanted to tell everyone my story. Talk about what he had done. How hurt I’d been. How confused and scared and lonely. At first, I thought everyone knew what I’d been through just by looking at me. Couldn’t they see the scars? Couldn’t they see my pain? I couldn’t understand how the world could be so normal. I needed to embrace its normalcy. I enforced No Contact in my speech. I could not talk of him. I could not tell the story again and again. The only time I had permission to talk about him and what had happened was when I went to an Alanon or Co-Dependents Anonymous meeting. There, with the safety of the 12-steps empowering me, I could speak up and give voice to my pain, my fear and my hope.
The greatest danger wasn’t contacting him. He was in jail. My greatest danger lay in thinking about him. In remembering those gentle moments where I had felt his ”˜love’ embrace me.
“It was never love,” I reminded myself. “Love doesn’t almost kill you.”
I kept working at No Contact in my mind. Good times or bad, thinking of him wasn’t healthy for me. I kept my No Trespassing signs posted. My STOP sign handy. Over time, it became easier. A cell phone ring wouldn’t startle me. My body wouldn’t jerk suddenly at the sound of a car backfiring, or a door slamming. I wouldn’t cry at every turn. Sit in silence immersed in sadness. Thoughts of suicide were arrested before they even saw the STOP sign in my mind. I was building my will to survive. My will to rejoice in living life fully every day.
In time, it became easier to live without the fear I would always be the abused woman I had become. In time, it became easier to live with the possibility of life beyond his abuse, beyond the lies he’d told me about who I was, what I could do, where I could go and who I could never be. It became easier to believe in me. It became easier to talk, about him, about what had happened, about what I’d done to betray myself and those I loved without falling into despair. It became easier to love myself, not as an abused woman, but as a woman who had the courage to face her fears, to turn up for herself and love herself, exactly the way she was. A woman capable and confident enough to let go of abuse and claim her right to live freely in her own skin.
I was an abused woman. Today, I continue to grow and heal, to love myself for all I’m worth and to give myself the space and time to let feelings flow through me without having to stop them.
Today, I give myself the grace of loving myself enough to know, I am okay. The things I did that hurt those I love, and me, are nothing compared to the things I do today to create a beautiful life all around me. I am not measured against what happened back then, my value is in what I do today to make a difference, in my life and the world around me.
Today, he was just a moment in time, a small segment of my life. He has no value in my life today. My value is in how I live, what I do, say, how I think and look at the world through eyes of love. Today, my value is in me.
Kim,
I know it sounds paranoid. It really is bizarre and if I told you exactly how I think he did it, I will probably lose all credibility!
Here is what happened in reverse chronological order:
At the community meeting my neighbor told me to “SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN”. I was on the board of directors of that meeting! She had always acted like my friend before.
Several married men, WON’T EVEN LOOK AT ME when their wives are present any more. I admit that I have a very nice figure and long hair, but I’m not THAT good looking.
After I did ALL the work on the board for 3 years, the crazy, husband stealing neighbor (she admitted to me that she only dates married men, but she is hideous looking) attacked me for not showing up to the last board meeting. She called he police and reported me as a missing person twice! I told my xP to tell her that I had left him. She knew this already but they were working together to get me to call her. They really NEED responses. They NEED to know that they can control. Push a button and watch the expected reaction. (that’s why no reaction or unexpected reaction is the correct response).
Before that, I was working to get our community association up to legal standards with the IRS and with State Law. I implemented a new bookkeeping system with quickbooks but I was not the treasurer, I was the secretary, but I had to do the books because the treasurer (crazy husband stealer) said she didn’t “get” quickbooks. SHE IS THE LOCAL BANK MANAGER!
about two year ago Crazy Husband Stealer (CBS), told me that her mother had committed suicide. But last January, when I was taking her to the doctor, she told me, “I’m so afraid of cancer, my mother died of cancer.” All gaslighting tactics. Obviously, my exP had told her that he planned on my committing suicide.
The other neighbors all showed the same kind of bizarre behavior in attempts to sabotage my efforts on the community water board. I won anyway because I implemented a policy to send out the meeting minutes to the entire community so that everyone would know what was happening at all times. At this time, I didn’t know WHY they were all acting so contrary to logic.
When I finally understood this personality disorder and read that they attack by proxy and that they slander, then I got it.
I also remembered my P coming back from one neighbors’ house and telling me that he had “put them straight” and told them that I am a “saint” for working so hard for the community for no pay. About a year later, I asked these neighbors if P had said I was a saint. She responded, “nooooo, he didn’t say THAT.” Obviously, he told them that I THINK I’m a saint.
Without going into the sordid details I can tell you that his method is to sew ENVY into people. I’ve seen him try to do this to me. He will point out my thinness to a fat person, or he will point out someone else’s wonderful relationship then treat me like a dog. It is so obvious what he is doing but until you know about the P profile, it’s really confusing. It makes no sense.
Sky, okay, now I remember CHS telling you about her mom’s suicide. It sounds like he’s got them snowed. I was just curious.
Be strong and ignore them all.
kim, most of these people are not snowed at all. They are P’s working together and laughing their heads off at me because I kept being so nice to them. No matter how much they asked me to give, I kept giving. They thought this was very funny and were trying to see how far they could push the limits. A few times when I said NO, they were shocked and went into tremendous shock and denial. But I kept being nice so they got over it and just tried harder. In the end, I just disappeared and they were stunned. My exP had convinced them that, although THEY would occasionally fail to pull my strings, HE would always be there to reel me back in for them to continue the game. Then the fish escaped the hook! OH MY WHAT A SURPRISE! and what a narcissistic injury for him. I made him look bad in front of the P friends.
btw, I also made him look bad about 2 years ago, when I told CHS that if she wanted other people’s husbands, she could “have my piece of shit.” I didn’t know that she already HAD taken him, I only said that because he was being such a dick. So, imagine how bad it felt for her to realize she had taken some else’s garbage. Then, imagine how exP felt when she told him that I said that…another narcissistic injury.
Now you know why my life is in danger. I’m mean, with a wicked tongue and keep causing narcissistic injuries to the P. LOL.
skylar,
Yeah that projection thing….Even my son at his age does that.
It is one of the things that at first REALLY, REALLY, confused me, when I was trying to figure out what was going on with him about a year and a half ago. I didn’t understand it at first as him projecting his own “stuff” back onto me. It was kind of also happening when he first started to be a cumpulsive liar. At first he would tell these REALLY over the top lies. I mean the kind of lies that were an insult to your intelligence. YET he would appear to believe those lies himself. (also confusing to me at the time) Its one thing to lie yet another thing to be ADAMANT that your lies are the truth. And to live in that reality.
And when he would be caught in a lie and project back to me that I was the liar caught in the lie (??? instead of him) I just thought he was telling yet more lies….But finally I saw that he projected his behavior back onto me regardless of what the behavior was, and saw a pattern there. Often times I thought of him as being delusional. And it really, really, scared me.
It was all very confusing because this troubling personality issues all showed up at the same time and it was alot to take in all at once. Especially being slammed with it all by a 15 year old….I was pretty blind sided by it all when it presented itself.
I think that projection onto others is a really, REALLY, big thing when it comes to the personality disordered individual. It helps to “keep them” in their delusional – lack of what is REAL world that they reside in. Projection also aids them to never be accountable for their actions or their lies.
I swear when you see it from the perspective I SEE it….The illness GROWING INTO the child…Or is it the CHILD growing into the illness….It is unbelievable. MIND boggling. And almost undescribable.
It is malignant (for lack of better word) and you can see it growing and progressing daily.
Seeing these same issues/behaviors in an adult, who has already had the time to groom themselves and “perfect” themselves in this behavior….Would be totally different.
Seeing it in a teenager that is still in the process of “growing up”….It seems more like this STRONG EVIL that has posessed his mind and development. Its like an evil force has
mind contol over him. and what happens all around him in the REAL world doesn’t “touch” him in any way and bring him on down back to reality??
I would STILL SWEAR on a stack of bibles that he BELIEVES his own lies. He does seem that delusional about “his” reality.
Is it possible that as a personality disordered illness “matures” within an individual they come to terms with the fact more and more as they experience life, and interact with others, they come to realize how different they are?? How they do lack in emotion and other feelings that the rest of us feel? How their own reality is so far fetched from what is real reality for the rest of us. How their lies are really just lies and not their own personal truth? Does this light bulb go off at some point?
I can say that my sons lies are much more “polished” than they were awile back. He is much more “careful” not to put himself in a position to be caught in a bold faced lie, especially at school and within his peer group. Recently I have noted that he does seem to be somewhat (not fully) but catching on that he is different than his peers. This does not trouble him, just brings out more the grandious attitude that he has about himself.
ANewLily,
Like you, I too am celiac. Congratulations for getting the diagnosis. It will literally change your life, your health and your mental state.
Celiac is not made worse by our experiences with the sociopaths. It is a genetic auto-immune syndrome that you either have or you don’t. However, over time, the symptoms get worse. And, if you don’t switch to a gluten-free diet, one of the symptoms is affected brain chemistry. In fact, today, if I accidentally get “glutened,” the first thing that alerts me is that I get anxious and weepy.
This mental state is very similar to anxiety-driven depression. And many people who switch to a gluten-free diet discover that their chronic depressive tendencies go away. And then of course, you get rid of the chronic bloating, irritable bowels (we are often misdiagnosed as having Crone’s disease), and over time the itchy dermatitis (usually misdiagnosed as an allergy). A lot of us also get rid of the secondary sensitivities like lactose sensitivity that develops with untreated celiac.
The irony is that the celiac syndrome could well have made us more vulnerable to the sociopaths. A lot of us, like Skylar, self-diagnose. I had raging symptoms in my forties, and doctors kept treating the symptoms with anti-depressants, anti-diarheals, and topical steriods for the rashes. No one even suggested celiac. I had to figure it out for myself, which I did over a number of years seeing my reaction to certain foods. Giving up wheat was hard, because there is a addictive reaction to wheat with celiacs. Even now, if I get accidently glutened, I have to go through a couple of days of intense craving for bread or pasta.
Sound like the hard parts of going NC? It really is. But once you figure out the cost of eating the wrong food, it gets easy. (If only it were that easy getting the sociopaths out of our heads.) And once you get a grip on the diet, it’s not hard at all. You can even go to restaurants, if you stick to grilled meat, salad, and rice or potatoes. Desserts, of course, are the hard part. But there are lots of things allowed, and once you get the hang of it, you can even bake cakes, pies and cookies with gluten-free ingredients. I made the best peanut butter cookies I’ve ever tasted this weekend.
I’m sorry about your tumor, but glad you caught it. My mother, I believe, died of celiac-related cancer, though we had no idea at the time. The long-term effects of ignoring it are very bad. But undiagnosed children also present with learning and behavioral problems. Eliminating gluten and lactose from the diet is the first wave of treatment for kids with autism or learning disabilities.
Once you get through the surgery, you have a better life ahead of you, I promise. You have no idea of the damage that has been done to your body by the gluten, but it will heal and you will discover that you are better in surprising ways. The damage the gluten does prevents us from absorbing important nutrients, and your body will begin to thrive as it has not for a long, long time.
Why does all this sound so much like getting over a sociopath? As always, I am so impressed with Louise’s articles about how she managed her mental processes during her recovery. There is definitely an analogy in giving up wheat, barley, rye and oats. And in their own way, the results are just as good.
Godspeed in your recovery —
Kathy
sky: you know how it works: divide and conquer.
These p’s also work on being a friend and sympathetic to others and when they confide in them….they store this away to use as blackmail later when they want to control these people. The idea is to control all they can and sow seeds of jealousy so they can get a majority ruling. *if everyone says something than it must be true. That’s why these people are far more dangerous and capable than we think they are. They work on the base emotions of humans. Eventually their mask does slip and they do get exposed, but it sometimes takes a long time and a lot of people get hurt/destroyed before it goes down. [and then they just move on to the next victim[s] *they do use jealousy a lot…. But…..they are also very vulnerable to it themselves. Strange as it sounds: whatever game they are using…is what they fall for too. And whatever they are sooooo against…look at it…it’s what they are doing. *they cannot stand to lose and this is what keeps them focused on us if we dump them….it just kills them to know we saw thru the illusion and moved on from them. [They will many times woo us back if they can so they can destroy and dump us. ]
It’s funny you should ask that question, because I was just asking myself my own version, this morning. I think it depends on how sophisticated they’ve become, and how far up the scale they’ve progressed.
To the lesser degree, they may believe their own dellusions to be true. But at some point, they begin to realize that they ARE different, and try very hard to disguise that, ao the rest of us won’t see it.
I had an enlightening experience one time. I was sitting in a bar with a new friend I’d known for a couple of months, and had just started to pick up on some “pink flags” when a friend of hers approached us and told her that his MIL was in the hospital, and they didn’t think she was going to make it. My new friend, almost immediatly, threw her head into her crossed arms, on the bar and remained that way, long enough to regroup, and figure out how to act like she felt something. When she pulled her head back up, she was magnificient. Could have won an oscar.
The dying woman’s daughter sat across the bar from us looking devistated. After a while I noticed my P friend staring at her, She actually said,”just look at J.’s face.”
At the time I felt all this was just slightly, off. It didn’t feel right. But I didn’t know what she probably was yet. Now I do.
They study peoples faces to figure out what’s normal, because they themselves don’t have the feelings that we do. They know it and try to fake it.
Just my 2-cents. Hope this helps, a little.
Witsend I think your perceptions are right on. I knew the P at age 15 and even 40+ years later there are times that I can tell he believes his lies. He has self-recognition about some of his traits (feeling empty) but not about others. (the arrogance, the lack of empathy, the autocratic behavior) .
KATHLEEEEEENNNN:
HI, hey I’ve missed you girl……..
I’m still waiting to hear back and expect to any day now……
Keep your fingers crossed……
I am psyched…..but if it doesn’t happen…..I wasn’t meant to go this route……BUT….I can still attend the meetings!
Keep in touch…..
XXOO
EB