Recently Lovefraud heard from a woman whom we’ll call Trina. Trina was involved with a sociopath for five years, who abandoned her eight months ago, after wrecking her financially and emotionally. Still, she continued to be in shock, denial and disbelief—until the guy sent her the following poem:
Catch and Release
Before I pull your hair and leave you for dead
I will ravish you
not physically, but with words sensuous and firm
with sibilance rolling off my chameleon tongue
and metaphors byzantine and allusive pitched
to that intimate space between your ears.
I will watch you wriggle with denial,
claw with anger, bargain for release,
splash like a drowning animal in hopelessness.
And when I observe the contour of your acceptance,
the precise moment your will bends pliantly to mine
I will release you.
Game over.
Trina was horrified, and when she communicated this to the guy, he denied that the poem was at all autobiographical. He said she needed to “lighten up;” she was too “up tight;” he’d just taken a line from a TV show and embellished it. Here’s how he explained it to Trina:
“I thought that was a great opening line and I twisted it a bit, threw in Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief as I played on the word ‘dead’ and created a poem, role playing the braggart and using a line that fishermen do when they fish for fun and not food.”
“This man knows he drove me to the point of near suicide,” Trina says, “and rather than feeling badly for it, he actually taunts me, to this day.”
When there is no reason
Many sociopaths are parasites, manipulating people into giving them money, food, sex, a place to live—whatever. But some sociopaths, who may actually hold down a job and have their own resources, manipulate people, even torment them, just for the fun of it.
There are sociopaths who break women’s hearts just to watch them fall apart. There are sociopaths who commit crimes just to prove they can get away with it. There are sociopaths who disrupt workplaces for their own amusement. These people simply want to be puppet masters, pulling strings and watching everyone else jump.
This is probably the most difficult type of sociopathic behavior to comprehend. Many of us have spent hours, days, weeks, even years trying to figure out why a sociopath acted the way he or she did. Sometimes there is no reason other than the sociopath found the situation he or she created to be entertaining.
So how do we come to grips with this? How do normal people, who try to be considerate and cooperative, understand this behavior?
We can’t. These sociopaths are totally twisted. It’s just the way they are.
Luckyzb: I meant to add that the Guardian ad Litem filing didn’t work!!!!! The one and only time the legal system came through for me!! (Fourteen people that knew me had signed notarized statements attesting to my mental wellness. I’ll always wonder what his reaction was to THAT — but the “craziness” charge was never mentioned again. PTL
Donna and Justabouthealed,
Thank you, and bless you both.
Betty
The sociopath I married and lived with for 5 months before he went off to prison for 5 months (he could have goten 10 years and should have. I had my fingers crossed that he would) was a poet. He could very well have written that poem. In fact maybe he did. Sometimes they are playing more than one woman at a time.
Luckyzb,
Welcome to the blog. Yet another amazing and intelligent voice to add to the masses already here. I love this place!!!
BETTY,
This is sad indeed. I am listening. I don’t say much, but am a witness to your story and growth. I am really glad you are here and so generous with your telling. HUGS.
And on a sweetly spiteful note I saw the spathole the other day, waiting for the bus in 105 degrees. Ah, the beauty of it.
Betty;
Whew! I did read your long post and it was well worth the read. You have been through a lot. But you sound strong and have clarity. It gives me hope. I am always so glad when someone else “takes their blinders off” and sees what it is they are dealing with.
You said that you were mourning the brother that you had once loved so as a child. It is mourning the loss. I don’t think that I have ever been as sad as I was when I realized my husband was an S and that he was not the man that I married. Then even “sadder” still when I realized that the man I married was a complete illusion. It makes you feel crazy and depressed.
It definitely is a grieving process to get to healing in these S situations. I feel for you. It is so difficult especially when it is family.
Take care of yourself and continue to stay strong:)
So true archerjf! It could have been the man I was married to as well. Any number of us I am sure:) Not “sometimes”- ALWAYS playing more than one woman. As Oprah says, what I know for sure.
JAH, I like your idea of “some healing cottage industry women could do that would help bring in income as they heal, like quiet quilting.” Just yesteday, I learned that Israel (or was it Iran?) has instigated the building of a beauty school to train refugees to be beautifians for needed income. Women everywhere are interested in being as attractive as possible!
Years ago, some agency started training Vietnamese men and women in nail care for this purpose. That’s why most manicure/nail businesses are run by Vietnamese. It works!
My anemia prevents me from looking up the info but I know that Dr. Susan Weitzman who wrote, “Not to People Like Us: Hidden abuse in upscale marriage.” has a clinic/healing retreats for abuse recovery — about 40 miles from Chicago/Ohare airport. My problem was the $$ to get there even though she offrered me a scholarship back in 2003.
Found a URL active in July 2003: http://www.nototpeoplelikeus.com/body/retreats.html
Betty, now I’m too exhausted (end of the day exhaustion due to the anemia) to write much but I wanted to tell you that yesterday I read your article (again) and all the posts following. I was astonished that I had not responded to you!
Then, I noted the dates — March 2009 — I was hospitalized the whole month of March 2009 so no wonder.
It seems I did answer one of your posts of a later time — or did I just “think” a response? LOL
I will only add now that I feel almost excited for you that you finally saw your brother’s “true colors.” That was hurtful to have him fall off the pedestal but I feel sure it will be to your benefit!
My two older sisters fell off their pedestals (that I had put them on) about a year ago. I still call them very periodically — a few months ago anyway — and have a freedom inside I had never felt from them before. (That didn’t come out just right. I hope you understand.)
Oh, I have to find strength to tell you that I am GLAD that you have a neice who understand completely and is on your side. What a blessing.
I have the oldest son of my oldest sister “on my side,” too.
I have this guys sister on my side. He told me once that since her husband was dead and she had no children that he was counting on inheriting what she had. When I found out that he had been lying and using me I called her and told her what he said. She had no trouble at all believing it. She said her father was like that and her other brother and nephews too. So his inheritance “walked”. He is on 2 years probation and is without a place to stay. He is with his son right now and they deserve him because they were enableing him. I believe he was thinking he could go back to an ex but she got remarried. It is funny in a way he has just what he deserves right now-nothing. Until he finds some other woman to con. I wish there was some way we could have these men branded on the forehead. Like they did women in the middle ages.
When I read the poem, my heart already stopped at the word “RAVISH”. I understand this sickness. Wait, I do not understand it but I know it well. I was married to this sickness. I thought I had out smarted financial deprevation by saving a plastic jug of money. I did not hide it because if he found it, things would not be good….so I felt safe saving it in the open. He had to have known that I was planning my escape as our house was broken into and only my things were stolen. There were signed and numbered art prints, box’s and box’s of antiques already boxed that the “intruders” could have taken. Yet they only took the money, all my jewerly, my ID, resumes….anything that could have aided my departure. Then the bars went up across all the windows, two by fours across the back door, chicken wire on the windows, screws keeping the windows shut, several double dead bolt locks on the front door and a plea to the alarm system man to do a side job instead of going through the company. All and all I did escape…I left his friend who he had sit with me while I was having a rummage sale to get us a couple burgers, well thats what I told him. By the way the security measures and the bodyguard were done for my protection…that’s what he told me. Well I was only gone 10 minutes when the friend called where are you, five minutes later my husband called but I did not answer as I was sppeding to get to the shelter as fast as I could. He left a message. WHERE ARE YOU WERE THE F ARE YOU, WHAT THE F……he went on and on and it was not nice. 5 more minutes passed and a mutual friend left a message….Are you ok….he is calling the police departments, the hospitals…I was not even gone a half hour. I called when I arrived at the shelter to tell him where I was (what a fool) I did not tell him the location but I did not want to piss him off by making him worry if he really was concerned. His main relpy said very sniedly was “well I am glad you are safe”. The very next day my neighbor call and told me he had just removed hundreds of box’s from our house and changed all the locks on the door. I was devestated that he did not ask me to come back. Some where I heard some thing like “and when they are through with you, and they will be through with you”. It broke my heart. Instead of being greatful that I got out I felt sorry for myself. I wanted to get a few things and drove past the house, got scared and went to the post office…..somehow he showed up the sametime I did. He talked me into coming back to the house with him. Once in I became very scared, I walked up to him because I did not want him to see my fear. I tucked my head down hugged him and said I love you. After everything that happened he said “I want to pick you up, carry you into the bedroom and RAVISH your body. I froze. I could not breathe…I thought after everything that has happend, that’s how he wants to make things better…..pretend nothing ever happened. I took a deep breath , I quietly asked God to please, please help me leave, Please do not let him try to carry me because I will have to hurt him, I was afraid all my anger over all I had endured would get away from me. I was lucky. I walked out.
This is how they think, eat, breathe, sleep, walk, talk. There is a part of me that never wants to read these blogs again after one touches me like this one. But if I don’t I forget. As sick as it sounds, if I don’t, I sometimes start to think that maybe I am the sick one. I wanted things to be different, I wanted things to go my way so how am I different than him. Then most importantly…I wonder “WILL I EVER, EVER BE NORMAL AGAIN…….????