In the world of healing from an encounter of the P(sychopath) kind, it is easy to forget that there is a world without fear, without lies, without terror, without uncertainty, out there, just around the corner from the insanity of his abuse. It’s easy to forget that people don’t always manipulate, deceive, devalue and destroy you. And, it’s easy to forget — you never deserved their lies and manipulation in the first place.
It’s one of the things that makes healing from these encounters so difficult. We forget who we are as we fall into believing we are who they say… Whatever it is they tell us we are — from beautiful to ugly, impossible to live without, impossible to live with. The most incredibly intelligent woman they’ve ever met to the stupidest woman who ever walked the planet.
In their eyes we become less than we ever imagined possible because, in their eyes we do not exist. At least, not the ”˜we’ we’ve known ourselves to be. Because their eyes can’t see ”˜us’. All they can see is the ”˜target’ of who they needed us to be while they stalked and plotted their way into our lives.
When I was first released from that relationship, I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. And then I had to remind myself — believe it. It happened. “But how could he have done it?” my mind raced. “He said he loved me. Would never hurt me.”
Hah! Face it. He lied.
Facing reality of his lies is imperative to healing from these cretins evil passages through our lives. Believing they did what they did, said what they said, lied and deceived and cheated and coerced us into giving up on ourselves, is vital to our recovery.
And facing the truth about the sickness of their love, and our sickness while believing we were in love with them is critical to soothing our aching hearts and sorrow filled psyches.
So many times someone will say after they’ve told me all the things he’s done to abuse them, “But I still love him.”
And I always ask, “What’s in it for you to keep believing you love someone who treated you like that? Who betrayed you? Cheated on you? Lied to you with every breath? What’s in it for you to keep believing he is worthy of your love?”
Because after they’ve gone and devalued and discarded us one more time, we are the one’s who keep ourselves attached to their machinations with our picking at the scabs of the wounds they’ve inflicted at us, worrying the sore of their abuse with our repetition of their words running through our minds. We are the one’s who keep thinking about them, worrying about what they’re doing or saying after they’ve walked out the door one last time leaving us standing with the pieces of our hearts falling through our fingers into the puddle of our tears pooling on the floor.
It is not easy healing from a relationship with a sociopath. But, it’s a heck of a lot better than being in relationship with one.
When I was with the sociopath, I did not know up from down, left from right, in from out. Every day was fraught with some new terror, some weird and wacky story about why he couldn’t turn up, didn’t have the money to pay, didn’t have the guts to call, or simply didn’t do what he’d say he’d do in the first place. Every day was a roller coaster ride through his crazy-making words and antics, with me constantly searching for truth and order, fairness and kindness amidst the insanity that was his ”˜love forevermore’. In staying with him, I became more and more sick. More and more incapable of seeing that it wasn’t that I ”˜couldn’t leave’, it was that I kept telling myself, “I couldn’t leave.” because…. he loved me. Needed me. Wanted me. I loved him. Needed him. Wanted him. I kept telling myself I couldn’t walk away and trapped myself into believing I couldn’t because I loved him and he loved me.
He never knew what it meant to love. He never had it in him to love me. And, while I walked into that relationship with my arms and heart wide open to love, I stayed because my mind closed down and my heart broke up into a thousand tiny pieces with every moment I remained within his unholy arms.
When I was first released I wanted to believe he loved me, at least at some point in that tortorous ride — it couldn’t all be for nothing, could it? I wanted to believe it wasn’t all a lie or some sick game played out on the battlefield that became my life. In healing, I accept, He never loved me. He never could. It was always a sick game and I was the pawn who could never gain entry into his castle — because his castle never existed. And he was never the prince of my imaginings.
Poison doesn’t kill you because it loves you. Poison kills you because it’s toxic.
And he was toxic to my life. A poison I consumed with every breath I took whether I was in proximity to him or his voice was simply coming down the umbilical cord of the telephone through which he fed me my daily dose of lies.
In those first minutes and hours and days away from him, within the protective veil of No Contact, I came face to face with reality and accepted my truth. I never loved him. I wanted to think I did. I truly wanted to believe I did. But, in reality, I loved a mirage. A shimmering creation of his duplicituous creation. He was the chimera. Facilely capable of shifting shape to suit the weather, the time zone, the geographic formations around him.
I never loved him. I loved the thought of him. The idea. The dream.
In accepting the reality of my love of the idea of him versus the truth of who he was, I freed myself to awaken from the nightmare of his embrace. In my awakening, I opened myself up to all that is possible when I let go of living on cloud nine, squeezing my feet into too small high heeled shoes that inevitably trip me up. Feet firmly planted on the ground in my size nine hiking boots, and armed with my shield of No Contact, I strode fearlessly away from my need to hear his voice, to know what he was doing and saying and thinking. To make sense of his nonsense. To understand his machinations.
He did what he did because he could. It’s what he does. It’s who he is.
There’s no rhyme nor reason that can ever justify what he did to me or continues to do to others. Away from him, there’s no sense in spending my precious breath trying to make sense of his nonsense or trying to figure out if there is some way I can make him hear me, see me, look at me. There’s no closure worth being in contact with him. No point in having the last word. There’s never a last word with a sociopath. They’ll always think that one word is the opening to more.
He is the lie and I am free.
He will always be the lie and I will always be free — as long as I stay true to who I am, my values, beliefs, principles and ideals. As long as I stand up for what is right and loving in my life and turn up for me in all my beauty, warts and all and love myself for all I’m worth.
Today, these boots are made for walking. Away from abuse. Away from deceit. Away from anything or anyone who believes they have the right to tell me who I am, what I can do and where I can go.
In walking away from the belief that I loved him, I walk into the truth that I deserve love and joy and all that is good in this world. In walking away from him I leap fearlessly into creating my best life yet, of living this moment without fear that I will fall into the arms of someone who believes they have the right to take my life and make it theirs.
Nobody has that right. And I’m not giving up my right to live my life in joy and love and wonder, creating my best life yet for all I’m worth.
And I’m worth a lot.
So are you.
I survived an encounter of the sociopathic kind. I am no longer a victim of his abuse. I am a victor on the path of success, creating beauty and love in my life today because, I deserve it!
So do you!
Quote: “When I was first released I wanted to believe he loved me, at least at some point in that tortorous ride it couldn’t all be for nothing, could it? I wanted to believe it wasn’t all a lie or some sick game ….”
The day I realized this, part of me died…and part of me wanted to live again. To prove out of nothing, I am something.
Another good one, MLG!
I recall for the short time I was with the P, there was a lot of drama, a lot of waiting, and a lot of rationalizing (on my part). I thought at that time that it was okay to have a little drama in my boring life because that’s what happens when you love someone–people come with baggage, right? I thought his drama would end soon because that is what he told me. It took 2-1/2 months to figure out he was stringing me along and go NC. It took even longer to realize the extent of his lies. I am happy to report a conspicuous lack of drama in my life these days. Quiet and peaceful, even though not always happy. My relationships–the ones that matter–are all authentic. I am left with the awareness that there really are evil people in the world. I know how they operate, and I know the signs. I feel it is my responsibility to educate people when appropriate and to warn them. But the sociopath no longer has an emotional grip on me.
Wow… just Wow. That sure is some powerful writing and insight. Thank you for sharing that one, M.L (it’s Louise, right?) … just what I needed to hear, especially the following two excerpts:
“Every day was a roller coaster ride through his crazy-making words and antics, with me constantly searching for truth and order, fairness and kindness amidst the insanity that was his ’love forevermore'”
and
“When I was first released I wanted to believe he loved me, at least at some point in that tortorous ride it couldn’t all be for nothing, could it? I wanted to believe it wasn’t all a lie or some sick game played out on the battlefield that became my life. In healing, I accept, He never loved me. He never could. It was always a sick game and I was the pawn who could never gain entry into his castle ”“ because his castle never existed. And he was never the prince of my imaginings.”
It’s like you went inside my head and gave order and meaning to feelings/experiences/beliefs that are usually tumbling kaleidoscope like around in my head. wow.
I also really appreciated the link someone posted on another thread about stockholm syndrome… that really gave me some thoughts to ponder, not just regard to myself but to the assortment of victims the S/N/Borderline has left in his path… including his children, bless their hearts, who are the poster children for the cognitive dissonance as a survival mode/skill… so sad.
HP
This was so beautiful. Thank you for committing your thoughts to this blog. I felt as if you were telling me my own story. As I read, I was filled with my own reflections, memories of what it was going to be, but never was, empty promises that permeated in the air, and my own solitude as I continued to rationalize, feeling alone, but at the same time enjoying the company.
Thank you for sharing.
This line is the heartbreak and the joy – it is the key to my freedom —-> I never loved him. I loved the thought of him. The idea. The dream.
AND THIS THAT FOLLOWS:
In accepting the reality of my love of the idea of him versus the truth of who he was, I freed myself to awaken from the nightmare of his embrace. In my awakening, I opened myself up to all that is possible when I let go of living on cloud nine, squeezing my feet into too small high heeled shoes that inevitably trip me up. Feet firmly planted on the ground in my size nine hiking boots, and armed with my shield of No Contact, I strode fearlessly away from my need to hear his voice, to know what he was doing and saying and thinking. To make sense of his nonsense. To understand his machinations.
Beautifully put – it is the accepting of reality – I had to force myself to accept reality and it was hard at first and then slowly but surely I came to crave it.
MLG,
I second the WOW! I have been so down lately, this was truly a thought provoking article. I think the thing that has left me so paralyzed, is the illusion that he actually needed me. I wrote in another thread that I feel that I am no longer needed by anyone. My kids are grown, now, no longer need me to fix their scraped knees, & tell them there are no monsters under the bed. part of my problem may be that the year he left me for his OW, was also the year my youngest started college. I kind of got a double whammy that year. I am left with fear, no self esteem, & loneliness. I hate feeling this way. I sound like a whiny kid.
Great article Louise, as always!
Focusing on the positives in our lives, being grateful for the good things we still have, and realizing that the “mirage” was just that—like a hologram, no substance, just an image.
Thanks!
When I was a little kid my brother was my idol. He was 1 year older, rambunctious, a bully at school and always teasing me, manipulating my emotions. Now he is a horrible P.
There was a bully in my class too. Everyone was afraid of him, as was I, but I also had a little secret crush on him. 15 years later I saw him at church on Christmas Eve. Probably not a P.
I believe I have an attraction to the “tragic” part of P’s. You know, the little boy crying out for attention. I feel I can relate to that wounded aspect of him. If there was anything that “attracted” me to my P it was that and I believe it is still the part of me that wants to “save” him. Sick huh?
I even felt it very briefly for the GR killer. For a moment I sensed a lost little boy. He seemed younger than he was. Not his face but his demeanor.
I think that focusing on others’ needs keeps me from having to look at my own. I wish I had as much compassion for myself as I do for other people.
As far as loving him, it took me 10 years to realize I was addicted to coffee. He bought me an epresso every day when we first met and I associated my caffeine buzz with love. It feels exactly the same as loving a P. But in the end they both make you crash.
I made the mistake of telling him, in front of some friends, that I fell in love with caffeine, not him. I often speak without thinking – it’s one of the benefits of not being a liar! LOL!
Anyway, in retrospect, it must’ve caused quite a narcissistic injury!
I needed to read this today. I find myself still struggling with the things my ex-husband, who was diagnosed with Anti-Social Personality Disorder, said to me and about me.
A mutual friend recently sent me a copy of an instant messaging conversation he had with my ex-husband. He also told me a numerous conversations he’s had with other people who my ex has contacted concerning me.
I’m not in contact with very many people I have known throughout my life anymore, since I left my ex, out of fear of him using these people to find me, as he already has done. I’m tired of moving. I had a life that was full and rich because of my very close relationships with family and friends that I have always maintained. The few people I have stayed in touch with have passed on the lies my ex tells about me. I have never once attempted to “clear my name” with my family members and many of my friends to tell them the truth. I’m torn about this decision I have made though. He still has all of his “friends”. I don’t have hardly any now. I was the one with friends and he was the lonely one. How cleverly he turned the tables. I’m just not a competitive type about anything and gossiping and getting people to hate someone is the last thing I would be competitive about. I won’t play his game because it’s against everything I am as a person, even if I am the one speaking the truth. I’ve just let it all go, or at least I try to do so.
I want to just shrug my shoulders and say to myself, “If they want to believe those lies, then that’s their problem,” and just move on with my life. I wish I could do that. I do just move on with my life, out of necessity for rasising my baby on my own, but I can’t just shrug it off that easily.
I don’t know for sure that many of the people I loved believed any of these lies, but I feel that some might, as that would explain their lack of emotional support when I reached out to them in the beginning, when I first was thinking about leaving and when I left. I only reached out to a couple of people I knew and loved, but their lack of understanding crushed me at the time. I had nowhere to go and I was pregnant. I know some of it was my own fault for having “no contact”, but that was to be safe and I was following advice I was given by my therapist.
I just don’t know what to do now. Do I write them a letter, explaining the whole truth to them? Will it do any good? I just miss my friends and family so badly. I hate that he “took them”. I keep waiting for enough time to pass that my ex will stop trying to find me and spreading things about me, but this has not happened yet. I don’t know how many years it will take him to let it go. I
n the meantime, my self-esteem has been crushed because I think that so many people might think these things about me. Some of them are the most ridiculous lies that I have ever heard of that were made up from the sky. Others have a small merit of truth to get people to believe him. You see, they are all Mormon and I left the Mormon church because I don’t believe it has healthy ethics and it covers up abuse, among many doctrinal concerns. For those of you who know anything about Mormons, you will know that choosing to become an ex-Mormon makes many people become disowned by their family. I had worked very hard at keeping my close relationships with many family members and friends through this process. He did what he knew (he’s Mormon himself) would work with them, as they were already disappointed in my leaving this church. It was amazing and sad to see how easily his tactics worked. He completely alienated me from my family and friends and that was followed up by my “disappearing” while pregnant and maintaining “no contact”. From what I can gather from my few trusted sources is that this just made them suspicious of me and believe him more. And they never even met him!
He has contacted every family member, friend and ex-boyfriend I have ever had and distorted anything I might have ever said about those loved ones, to get information out of them, by making them mad at me. They have all been told horrible things I never said about them, playing on “weaknesses” that they confided to me in that my husband knew about just because he was paying attention to anything I ever said about anyone I knew. I found a long, complex table with many graphs, documenting people I know and details about them on his computer, a while back. He even records phone conversations he has with these people.
The rough part is that even though I know these things to be lies, just knowing loved ones believe them, has crushed my spirit. I know these things are not true, but what difference does it make if the people I love most believe them to be true? I’ve seen how easily he manipulated my family into believing him and I’ve always been such a good daughter, sister and aunt. It scares me how easily he might be able to manipulate our son someday. I just want him to disappear!
He was smart about how to try to ruin me because everyone who knew me knows that my relationships I have with loved ones is what I value most in life. I never missed an opportunity to show or tell someone of my love for them. I didn’t fight with family or friends and had good, healthy relationships. I prided myself in this. He knew that was how to get at me and it still hurts so much. I realize that each time I think about this and hurt, I’m letting him win. That doesn’t stop the pain though. It’s so raw and I lost my family and friends to this man 2 years ago.
I just can’t understand why lies someone says about me would hurt my self-esteem, but they do. They replay in my head over and over until I feel like I’m the crazy one. It was nice to read this article to see that other people deal with this issue too. I feel less alone.