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!
I want this day to be over. I feel like my body is breaking down. The emptiness is really stressful to deal with but at the same time feels a little bit like relief-knowing that my N father is out of town on vacation without phone/internet access and I have had NC with the woman since the 16th. I wish I could stop thinking about her-even though I don’t want to be around her at all, and I’m relieved to be away.
My whole body hurts today really bad. I put down the cigarettes again. I had started back up when she devalued me and they are giving me a sore throat. I have a lot of overuse injuries due to my spurts of trying to exercise intensely plus the old bulging disc in the lumbar spine that is pinching nerves and making me have pain in my legs. I just hurt really bad from my waist all the way down and I feel really stiff. I had a bad morning at work before I got off work.
I really finally realize how much I hate ICU. I am so glad to have this job to get me started, but I realized that after 10 years of this, I am so burned out and beyond it that I can’t stand it. I wish I could get caught up financially and take the classes so I can be a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner-that is all I want to do in nursing. It wouldn’t be as back breaking as ICU, or stressful and I would really feel like I was doing something really GOOD for people and good for me. I just generally feel bad. I’m angry and in a foul mood and I couldn’t sleep so now I have to find something to eat.
BTW-0nestep-I just read your post above and I really hope you start feeling better. I am sorry you are having such a bad time. Antibiotics can make you feel horrible. Take some probiotics, eat some yogurt so they don’t make you sicker.
((((((((((((((((((((here’s a hug for your rotten day lizzy)))))))))))))))
started on probiotics the first day. antibiotics just really mess me up chemically.
Dear One/Joy,
Keep in mind that a) your immune system is crapped out as proven by the fact you got this bad, fast moving infection from a tiny scratch b) your stress level is high, as proven by the fact that your immune system is crapped out sooooooo REST is important, both physical AND mental rest.
I think your need to be nurtured as expressed in your above post is that feeling we get when we are little kids and we are tired and cranky and don’t want to go to school that day and just want to lay at home in mommy’s arms and have her read us stories and feed us grapes. I wish I was there to let you lay your head on my lap and I’d stroke your forehead and read you stories and feed you grapes until you fell asleep, then I’d cover you with a blanket and tip toe off while you slept. So just climb into bed and pretend I am there and doing all those things and feel nurtured and cared about until you fall asleep. ((((hugS))))
you know oxy, only one person has even done that in my real life – the n ex. she was very very comforting when i was sick.
thank you. (‘cept grapes would make me puke. i do however like ice cream.)
my own mom sucked at it – she tended to treat us like temperatures and outputs – not much compassion there.
onestep-here’s a hug back for yours ((((((((onestep))))))))
Dear One/Joy,
I think there are times that we all just need to be “cuddled” and nurtured, like a child who is feeling poorly wants to lie with their head in mommy’s lap or on her breast. Just the TOUCH of another human being that is comforting. If you watch animals that live in social groups—dogs, cats, horses, cows, monkeys, what ever kind, they lie next to each other to sleep, or stand and groom and touch each other.
A calf or puppy will snuggle up next to mommy to sleep or sibs and yet we put our babies to bed alone in this culture. Other cultures strap the baby to the mom’s back or front and I am so glad to see so many parents using those carriers that hold the baby near their body. TOUCH is so important to us and our emotional health and even our physical survival.
I’ve always been a touchy-feely person, don’t guess I got enough of that when I was a kid, still am a “hugger” with my friends and my son D. Just having the little dog in the bed with me, and feeling the warmth of him up against my side is comforting. After my husband died, learning to sleep alone was the biggest hurdle.
Safeguard
Oh my god, what a story. So your spath was a spath. Is his sister a spath too? To tell that story out loud, to you, in the way that she did, her intent MUST have been to hurt you. Holy cow.
I am so so so sorry.
Run, run away.
SK
SK,
Yeah Spath’s sister was moving in for the kill, for sure. She didn’t just want to hurt me, she wanted me GONE. Insanely jealous, She was making sure I would leave him.
I wish I had a picture of the look on her face, as she watched my mind try to comprehend what I just heard…It was surreal…it was a shock…but I couldn’t *un-hear* it… I just stared at her in horror, and felt the bottom drop out of my stomach, all the while she had this evil smirk on her face.
I calmly told her the visit was over, and she needed to leave. She refused. She held up her cell phone and said, “Do you want me to call spath? I’m blood, Safe, you’re NOT. We all know who #1 is!”
I told her to go ahead and call, but you’ll do it from the side walk cause your leaving right now. She says: “Do you want me to start a scene Safe, cause I am QUEEN of starting a scene”
I said, “bring it D. I’m Queen of ending a scene.”
She left then, but she must have called him. Cause he took off with her for a few days. ( I am assuming, cause they were both mia).
She is a MAJOR spath. Recently she sold her third kid, errr…placed him for adoption. (she has two others in state care).
Spath was behaving oddly, this past March, (I can ALWAYS tell when he’s been around sis, even if I don’t KNOW…), I came across some hidden papers. Apparently, Spath was FORGING receipts, that were being used by his sister, to get the max amount of $$ out of the adoptive parents!!! One was $1700… for a used car. She was having her mail sent to our address too.
Spath used to pace the living room, waiting for the mail man.
When I finally inquired about his odd behavior, (“What IS your problem with the mail”?! lol!)… He said he was “doing a favor for his sister, but he wouldn’t elaborate. Told me it was none of my fck’n buissness, more accurately…
Later I found the hidden papers, some were from the court regarding the adoption, and other were practice forgeries and notes from his sister.
SOooo if anyone adopted a boy, born March 2. You were over-billed.
Dear Safeguard,
In addition to everything else, the children birthed by these S-paths are genetically at high risk to be “just like his father (mother)” and those poor adoptive parents that think they got a wonderful beautiful baby are in fact, taking on the genetics of the disordered parents. Of course not ALL of the children of these disordered people will turn out disordered themselves, but more than “average” unfortunately do. This “adoptive child syndrome” has been noted for a long time. For a long time it was thought that babies were born “blank slates” and that environment was 100% of how a child turned out, but finally science has advanced far enough to realize that humans are mammals after all…and there is some genetics involved in what and who we become as well as environment.
I read an article about the FBI busting a “baby to order” ring that was using donated eggs and sperm and women contracted to carry these children, and birth them in California where it is easier to get a non-genetic parent’s name on the birth certificate. They were charging $100-180,000 each for these blond blue eyed children. Some actress paid for one and helped bust the ring….and kept the child. Apparently it had gone on for 6 or more years with dozens of babies “bred” for the adoption market. Some people are so desperate to have a child though that they will pay any amount of money or take whatever genetics they can get. Little do they know what they are getting, and probably won’t know for years.
Hell if I had known about genetics what I know now, I would NEVER have chosen to give birth to children of my own. My own genetics are damned with the “evil genes.” Thank God my biological sons do not have any offspring. I never thought I would say such a thing, but I am SO glad I do not have grandchildren of my own.
Ox,
Having five children myself, I never for one second, bought into the “blank slate” thing lol! They came with their own particular personalities, that’s for sure!
And the one who was the fussiest, most demanding, crankiest, wise soul, old man, type infant… turned out to one of the finest men I have ever had the privilege of knowing.
He ALWAYS did things his way, and had an almost over-developed sense of social conscience, all of his life. He never “followed the crowd”, the “crowd” followed him. And if they weren’t doing the right thing, they could do it somewhere else, as far as he was concerned.
Two of his brothers were lovely, smiley, cuddly good natured babies. People please’rs. They have struggled with peer pressure and made some bad choices, but they are loyal and kind, funny and sufferingly HUMAN…They rock my world with their love for me and my daughter…
One of my sons, was good natured as a baby, but seemed to suffer depressed moods, starting around Kindergarten. He always hated school, and I felt this was the cause of his distress. ( I hate the American public school system myself actually.). Later I realized his depression, it was, as if he saw life through the eyes of Edgar Allen Poe…I tried to get him to see a therapist, but his dad convinced him that I though he was “sick” and he resented that. This the one who hangs with spath…
If I had to choose, I would have my children AGAIN. Even knowing the risk involved. If it meant my healthy children, wouldn’t be here, then I wouldn’t change a thing.
I am glad you are here too oxy, I’d fend off a spath or several, to know you.