By | July 8, 2010 156 Comments


Editor’s note: Here is another satirical piece by the Front Porch Talker. For background, see “My life with a sociopath.”

By The Front Porch Talker

“And, they endured.” Wm. F. Faulkner

I was committed.

I remember several poignant moments on the night I was committed, against my will, to an in-patient, lock-down mental facility: the Dalai Lama was in town, and was giving a speech on the television I watched in the Emergency Room, hours BEFORE I had been committed. His message: peace and forgiveness. I have not yet forgiven, but I do feel peaceful.

Also: My close friend and her sister had brought me to the Emergency Room of the hospital. They and all the medical professionals in the Emergency Room acted as though I had been invisible. Whenever I tried to explain: I am having a PTSD Acute Panic Attack (and need medication), not a paranoid, delusional manic episode—everybody ignored me as if I weren’t in the room. I was: I have never been more present, in a room, in my life.

And, to stop myself from hyperventilating and crying I had tried leaving the ER; but instead, I was wrestled to the ground by two or three security guards, and tied down to a gurney, and not allowed to even use the my friend’s cell phone to call a trusted person to help me out.

The problem was a matter of confusion rather than any conscious attempt to harm me personally. Or rather, a specious syllogism. They saw what they wanted to see and were used to seeing in mental health. That is, the mental illness of the day: Bipolar Disorder is often confused with PTSD and other disorders associated with real traumas.

So, I plead to the psychiatrist, nurse, doctor, and my friends for a rational response: I wasn’t paranoid. I then explained why I was having a panic attack, in the most simple of terms: that I was having a panic attack because a real trauma had happened to me, and incidentally, a real reason to panic! Anybody in that position might cry and hyperventilate.

How else should one respond when somebody you’ve supposedly known well for nearly ten years steals your identity, your bank account, your retirement account, your house, your car, all your possessions. You have been abused by your partner who is a drug addict. And, the police don’t take it seriously. In fact, nobody takes it seriously. Not the FTC, the FBI, the State Patrol, etc. In fact, this person still uses my identity to commit frauds and forgeries.

How should a person respond to such an event?

Seeing a hole of vulnerability, the domino effect takes place: my job as a tenured professor at an Arts college for nearly twenty years takes a political turn for the worst: it is this moment, while I am reacting to trauma and stress, that they force me to take disability. It is a college with a very bad reputation for how it treats teachers, especially those like myself, who demand a higher standard of competency from students, while the private college worries about its bottom line: private tuition.

How else should one respond to such events?

There is nothing worse than trying to convince somebody that you’re not paranoid or delusional than by saying you aren’t. Just the word ”˜paranoid’ harkens visions of paranoia. Even if you have a history of occasional panic attacks during such traumas; even if you are well-educated in psychology and have an advanced graduate degree. And that sometimes people mistake mania for panic attacks.

None of that matters. All they hear are two words: paranoid and manic. Or, version two: a danger to self or others: Committed!

Plus, your concerned friend and her sister have had plenty of experience with mental health commitments. For most of their childhoods, their family had had their father committed to mental hospitals for his delusional and paranoid episodes from a serious mental illness. They believe that you are manic and paranoid. They’ve discussed it at length, outside of the ER room (where you can’t hear) with all the “medical professionals.”

Finally, after another hour or so, the psychiatrist comes into the room, while you are listening to the Dali Lama speak. He, the psychiatrist says: “We are going to commit you to an in-patient, lock-down mental facility: Fairfax Hospital.”

Since your therapist and anybody who could ever vouch for your sanity is out of the state presently, you have no choice: you are tied down to a gurney and taken, by ambulance to Fairfax hospital. They take the shoe laces out of your shoes, and anything else you might use to “harm yourself or others.” (I wonder if bra straps could be used as a weapon against self?)

The staff checks on you every fifteen minutes while you are in your room. Personally, I took plenty of very long and very hot showers just to worry the staff.

I was committed for over two weeks in our particular wing. After that, I was heading to the state facility for seriously mentally ill people for an even longer and more restricted stay: at Western State Hospital.

The psychiatrist, who visited weekly, told me in no uncertain terms: “unless you finally admit that you have Bipolar Disorder, and are ”˜manic,’ we will not release you from this hospital.” But, I protested, “I have never been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I have a lifelong diagnosis of Complex PTSD and occasional panic attacks. Just call my therapist who is in Florida!”

Okay, so now you’re probably thinking: this sounds like one of those Sunday Movies of the Week on the ”˜Lifetime Channel for Women: all true, all the time!’ True.

It’s so surreal really: like the ”˜Sunday Night Movie of the Week’ on the ”˜Lifetime Channel for Women.’ Of course it all turns out okay in the end. Or, better than ”˜okay.’ Maybe they start a new foundation to prevent this from happening again; or, a poignant reunion with loved ones is in order. No matter.

So, I try to see the best of any situation, Fairfax lock-down, in-patient mental hospital notwithstanding. I try to see it all as a joke, or a fodder for my writing (which I am making full use of now). Surely I thought they would see the mistake and release me.

Not that I didn’t have a great time during my “stay” of over two weeks. There is plenty of entertainment, and the usual “busy activities” and multiple “check-ins” with group therapy and all. I don’t think kindergarten has more structured activities, which go from the moment you wake to the moment you pass out at night from all the “medications.”

This was not, as you might suppose, for drug addicts or alcoholics; they had “free passes” for themselves and a “guest” to eat in the cafeteria, while we ate in our own “unit;” together of course. I didn’t earn my way to the cafeteria until the last few days of my “stay” at the spa for the mentally exhausted.

Anyway, it’s like a vacation, in a way. The place is a little bit like the Holiday Inn, maybe. If the Holiday Inn management locked you in to the unit and insisted that you eat all your meals with the others on your unit. However, there isn’t a pool, for obvious reasons.

And, it’s a “small world,” as they say. A woman whom I went to college with, in Illinois back in the 70’s, was now a psychiatric nurse in Washington in the other unit. Just by looking at me she could tell: I was definitely manic. I had a certain bright look in my eye, she thought, which I thought was abject FEAR and PANIC! She and her partner have a musical act that parodies Operas, which still offends me to the bone.

You meet many very interesting and intelligent folks in the lock-down facility that is your “unit.” I mean, where else can you go besides to your room with your roommate; to the community room for group therapy, or outside in a fenced and locked area about the size of a maximum-security yard. It does have a ping-pong table too, I might add.

And, I even had several suitors while I was there. How good can it get? A gentleman who had been “released” to the less-secure wing sent me some wildflowers. My roommates were gentle and sweet. My first roommate had the Norton Anthology of Poetry sent from home to our room and read poetry to me nightly. My second roommate explained to me how a cat could use a toilet. I had many phone calls from friends around the country. My family was unaware of my circumstances.

“Group Time,” as I’ve explained, met four or five times a day. It began with us all sitting around a table, with one of the Psychiatric workers as our leader. Most surely, they each had soothing voices, as smooth as Cool Whip on Green jello.

We would be instructed, calmly and smoothly, to look at the “emotions” page in front of us, which consisted of smiley faces with words beneath each face that identified certain emotions: confused; angry; confused; happy, etc. We then went around the room and explained our emotions in smiley faces. I believe I was a trouble-maker in that regard.

The next order of business was to go around the room and discuss “where we were at.” I told them: “I am at Fairfax Mental Hospital being held against my will.” Wrong answer. “We want feeling words!” “I FEEL FRUSTRATED BECAUSE I AM BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL”¦.” I then sat there with a sheepish look on my face while the leader explained in clearly enunciated and simple language: “What I mean is HOW are you doing today?”

We were then instructed to “move on.” I tried. But, “move on” signified HOW one should move on with their lives SHOULD they one day be released back to the REAL world. “For example,” our instructor said, “How will you go back to your job at the gas station or maybe you are a nanny.”

A young man with Schizophrenia spent all of “group time” coloring in complex fuzzy cartoons with pens that his mother had brought him. A woman who had been living in a van spent her time hoarding the yellow cake served the night before for dessert. She generously offered herself and her boyfriend to me, should we ever get out of the hospital.

My favorite activity, besides “group,” was the time we painted each other’s toe nails. I read all the New Yorker’s I could get my hands on. And all of the NYT crossword puzzles considered contraband by some. It wasn’t a “calming” activity.

However, there is a story to this: one of the women in our unit (I’ll call her Cindy) was being held in the “secured” area of our “secure” wing. She was considered actively psychotic and dangerous. We “heard” from her every so often rattling the double-doors, like saber-rattling, every time we had nearly forgotten her.

A few days later, coinciding with the time I began working the NYT Crossword puzzles, Cindy had a “visitor;” her estranged husband, Henry. They’d dress Cindy in her street clothes and parade her out to the day room for her requisite daily visit with Henry. Henry left the newspaper on the table before he left. Thus, my crossword habit.

And who could forget the “Aerobics Class” one of our instructors led in the group room. A friend of mine knew her as they both took dance lessons on the “outside.” When he visited me, this instructor chatted with him a bit. I should not have “acted the part” of a crazy person, even though it humored me. I was written up for dancing to George Benson singing “This Masquerade.”

And who could forget the graduate student from the school of Social Work (Social Work was my undergraduate degree, ironically)? She (I’ll call her Amy) spoke to us a little too loudly, as though maybe we were deaf too. During “check-in” and “group” she stared down the table at us in secret terror of what we might do, the way Bette Davis’ sister (name?) looked at her in “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?” Or the crazed way Billy Bob Thornton looked in “Sling Blade.” Or maybe the Borderline personality that Angelina Jolie played in that movie. (name?) We were, in effect, all Baby Janes , Billy Bob’s, and Angelina’s to her. (Come to think of it: wasn’t Angelina married briefly to Billy Bob?)

Amy then told us in her condescending and patronizing tone that we would cut out pictures and words from the magazines stacked in the middle of the table. We were to paste these, in collage form (of course she defined “collage” for us) on pieces of construction paper.

I protested. Cutting-up my precious unread New Yorker magazines was tantamount to making me crazy. I immediately grabbed those for my “project.” During “share” time, Amy nodded her head in approval. Mine was a depiction of Alice in Wonderland, of Alice going down the rabbit hole. Amy found this interesting and duly noted it in her notebook. Mental illness at its height!

Amy then asked me to “share” my reasons with the other twelve or so participants at the table. “Well,” I said, “there are theories to support the thesis that Alice, of Alice and Wonderland was groomed by the author, Lewis Carroll, a.k.a. Dobson. He was a pedophile in real life. Some have even proposed that he was Jack the Ripper and that “Jabberwoky” was proof of that. So, I think this picture depicts Lewis Carroll’s state-of-mind regarding Alice.”

“This is not a calm thought!” Amy said. “Let’s move on.” She ended “group” abruptly.

Having “family time” together in our little wing was the only touching moment of my stay, besides my nightly poetry readings by my roommate, I mean. Our favorite psych worker, Betty, gave us motherly looks and listened to us with real empathy. Then she’d head to the store and return with “fun” items for dinner: and, we had ice cream sundaes on movie night.

My fun was short-lived. Unfortunately for me, one movie night, as I was doing my daily NYT crossword puzzle that Cindy’s husband had left, everything came to a halt. We heard her back in the most “secure” area of our secured unit, rattling the doors and calling out obscenities at us. Her shouting was so loud that it blurred “movie night” into a horror show.

Intuitively, I knew what was next: Cindy broke through the doors when a nurse checked in on her. She bee-lined straight for me, and for my crossword puzzle. Considering I struggle with PTSD and fears of raging women, this was not easy for me. Cindy shouted obscenities I’ve never heard before, and they were aimed at me. I moved just in time to avoid having her hands around my throat. I offered her the Sunday NYT crossword puzzle as a symbol of peace. I couldn’t finish Sunday’s anyway.

It was soon after that night that I was given cafeteria privileges in the less secure unit. This meant the world to me. I could now sit with a “visitor” in the captain’s chairs with my tray of the evening’s entre without fears about Cindy taking revenge against me.

But by the grace of God, I was lucky: I had a few dear friends, a great therapist and a great attorney who made my release possible. On my own, I would not have fared so well. Now, I am thankful for small graces: a few dear friends who called me daily and visited me. Some brought their dogs to the window of the “day room.” Some ate with me when I had advanced to the “less secure” wing where you could pick your own food choices and sit in Captain’s chairs, instead of folding chairs.

And, thanks to a diligent attorney. On my fourteenth day of commitment, my “concerned” friend who, along with her sister, had had me committed in the first place, then testified against me in court. She thought I was a danger to myself and should stay even longer.

How should I respond to that event? To a friend I had trusted for twenty-five years?

Thank God for my attorney and for the judge who quickly dismissed the case. I walked across the courtroom after the hearing ended and addressed the judge: “Your Honor, I know I am wearing a white linen lined jacket, and that it is after Labor Day, but: if I had known that I would be committed against my will for two weeks, I would have dressed more appropriately.”

The judge replied: “I am sure you would have. I would have made the same faux pas.”

If not for them, I would have surely been sent to Western State Hospital in a “more secure” lockdown, where I would still be today.

On the last day of my stay at Fairfax Mental Hospital, the whole psych staff gathered in my room to wish me well, I suppose. Instead, they said: “We just wanted to tell you what a great pleasure it has been to have worked with you these past weeks.

“You’re one of the most brilliant ”˜clients’ we’ve ever had here at Fairfax!”

Of course, they tell me I’m “brilliant,” I am thinking to myself as I make my way through the front doors with my friend. They think I am “Bipolar brilliant” as it fits the definition in the profile of the DSM IV.

As my friend arrived to “escort” me from the facility (a condition of my release, according to the Fairfax psychiatrist), I asked him: “So; am I or am I not brilliant?”

Just then, the cake-hoarding woman who’d offered herself and her boyfriend to me earlier, was also being released at the same time.

“Yoo-hoo!” she called after me. “Yoo-hoo!” Her boyfriend was sitting in the van.

I heaved myself and my bag of stolen New Yorker magazines into my friend’s Jeep and locked the doors and windows to blur-out the sound of voices. Real voices; not imagined.

As William Faulkner wrote on his acceptance of a Nobel Prize: “And they endured.”

So, I too endure, while others I’ve known sadly have not.

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To all the people who are committed against their will, who endured…. and then others that were not so fortunate…my heart goes out. This is a testament to your strength, your sanity and your courage.

I was thinking about this very thing this morning, synchronicity bringing me to your amazing story. How many women were gaslighted into mental institutions where it’s a creeping realisation, one I can barely sit with, that many of these people were innocent empathic and sane and most likely pushed into post traumatic stress, pushed into craziness in that calm and calculated way only a sociopath can execute….it’s heinous.

I believe the rage goes on even after death as some of these people suffered years of imprisonment in these institutions for “nothing”…I can tune into it, it’s very sad and very heartbreaking and something we need to wake up to and stop happening.

Sociopaths do push the people they USE to the brink on every level, let’s look very closely at what constitutes “crazy” and it seems to me, someone normal who has been tortured to the brink of confusion, bewilderment, bamboozlement, mind-screwed to such an extent they appear crazy…look again, maybe we could begin to suspect behind EVERY crazy person there is possibly a sociopath pulling strings??? It HAS to be investigated, because as far as I can see from my own experience at the hands of an absolute CREEP, I was going crazier and crazier…he stood absolutely calm and just ignored my pleas for mercy and stuck the psychological knife in through daylight robbery, trickery and deceit…but because he was CALM while he did it, people believe HIM….let’s remember this old saying…”it’s the quiet ones we have got to watch” watch and watch again. It’s not as it appears.

Thanks you for your story, thank you for enduring and succeeding and surviving. I wish you a happy fulfilled life and really want to say…I am so sorry for your suffering and the ignorance that prevails out there…you have to have felt it, experienced it to know just who the crazy ones are..thanks for expressing it, going for it and allowing feelings so compassionately after such an ordeal.


The Front Porch Talker,

If you don’t have a sense of humor, you will go nuts. After exposure to a sociopath, you are never the same again. I feel compassion for every unfortunate sane person who ever ended up in a mental hospital against their will. It’s an uphill battle to get healthy and whole, that’s for sure. I think that we’ve all experienced the trauma that hits you when you discover some of the spath’s shenanigans, just blowing you away, doing a job on your mental well-being. There’s a whole range of emotions that are triggered, flattening you out for a period of time.

Dani S

Wow!!!! a wonderful story of courage and survival! I ended up in hospital after the ex h S! I couldn’t even articulate in words where I were emotionally & spiritually then. What I do recall is when I went back home to my parents after hospital the CAT team visited daily for assessment. Initially they wanted to medicate me. I took 1 tablet and could not move for 10 hours, I was a zombie!
I knew one thing very clearly back then and that was I could not function as a mother of 3 young children, one of which was only 6 months old in this zombie like state and 2 I knew my condition was environmental not chemical!

I had escaped a war zone of terrible atrocities, I felt like I had escaped from a concentration camp and I was feeling the aftermath of this very acutely!
I refused medication as I needed to think and feel the moment, no matter how excruciating and unbearable that was at the time.

I found a Brilliant therapist that found me to be suffering PTSD and taught me all about the minds of a Psychopath.
It is so unreal the life with a S and so surreal coming out of that place.It is a very dark place they send us too and I love all us survives.
Some stories like this throw me back to a very bad place in my own experiences but it also shows how far I have came and I don’t live with that daily agonising despear any more. Thank you for your Story Front Porch Talker
& hi bullet proof, how have you been?

super chic

FPT, I’m so glad you endured and were released!! What a story! Thank you for sharing. Have you finished a NYT Sunday crossword puzzle yet? I certainly haven’t!!


Hi Dani S

was reading your post on another thread where you are discussing the ‘cull ‘of friendships…and you are now surrounded by beautiful people and in a new relationship for a few months now. That’s fantastic! happy for must have come a long long way. I’m still ‘recovering’ meaning looking after myself, friendships are currently being culled…even family members. It’s become very clear to me where I need to to say NO and distance myself from people who are obviously toxic….(never was it so clear)

A very old ex boyfriend re appeared suddenly (20 years late!!!) NOT the spath…. maybe narcissistic, anyway he was toxic.. but we were together for a period of 10 years, when we were in our 20’s…he had a drug problem and I was young enough to think my love would cure him!! (a long hard lesson in itself)

I do not want him back in my life BUT he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He bombarded me (felt like an attempted love bombing…) with phonecalls and texts…I answered him very clearly…that while I was flattered he realised just what he lost, I was not getting back with him and please leave it as it is..but no still he persisted, the texts turning very sexual and it occurred to me this was actually sexual harrassment….so I said texted back continue this ‘sexual harrassment’ and I will call the cops….he then apologised and asked me to please call him, he was ‘tormented’ over the texts he sent….I said one last thing I do not want you to contact me again…..and then a couple of days later he knocks….(yes knocks) on my living room window…I am in there on my own…suddenly looking though the window at this man I asked to leave me alone more than three times now.

I ignored him. he went off. 3 days later he knocks again…..I ignored him…he went off…last text was call me for fucks sake….I ignored it….it’s a week now and nothing…..but it really scared me, that this guy wanted his “goal” so badly he didn’t even HEAR what I was saying to him, he couldn’t care less about my responses!!!!! I’M NOT INTERESTED I think in his later years he probably wants me back to look after him….well he can take a hike! unbelieveable.

It was like the universe testing me to see if I really mean business. I feel great, for handling it so assertively. My neighbour was a great help as she knew what was happening and that call to the police may happen yet.

I’m starting my self defence classes monday night and I suddenly understand why!! stay safe out there….

Dani S

Geez Bullet proof! you are really starting to become your name sake lol Well done! God don’t we get sick of the lessons the universe throw at us!!! Feel empowered girl friend you have done everything right! any wonders he is an (ex)lol
There is nothing worse than living in fear…… It astounds me that after being rejected and told to take a hike he knocks on your window! What a fool!

When we are such trusting people we let anyone in and that has been the hardest lesson for me and even harder letting go of the ones that are not healthy. And even tho the people we once trusted, liked,even loved and were apart of lives for a while or a long time turn out to be toxic and bad for our personal growth you have to let them go or you go banana’s.

It’s a scary world out there and you never know what or whom is just around the corner, I love that you are taking self defence classes, the more powerful we became physically and emotionally the less attractive we are to the predators out there!
Take care, Stay Safe and all the very best wishes and hope the ex leaves you well enough alone because before long you will be able kick his ass to the curb in more ways than one!!!!! 🙂 🙂

super chic

bulletproof, great post! I have a spath popping up at my front door, I’ve told him to leave me alone. Could you pass some of the anger you’ve been dealing with… over here?? Sometimes I feel like a zombie, because I can’t feel anything.


bp – one thing i see missing from the equation is you logging his behaviour with the police. If people harass us, that’s part of what we need to do – because if they come back there is prior record with the police.

i know that many police forces don’t care/ aren’t effectual – but I would call the cops in a situation like this, so that it is on the record.


hey thanks guys, appreciate your responses, it keeps me on the alert, in fact if it wasn’t for all on lovefraud I do not think I’d be as awake as I am.

Hi Shabby- …feeling numb may be better than getting angry with a spath…looking as boring as you can, uninterested…whatever, but you know he is enjoying intimidating you. Maybe you are in shock and it’s not safe to connect with the anger?? I think the anger surfaces when safe to do so….when I was up against the P trying to get my money back…I was wobbling with fear, felt very weak…heart beating very fast and it was almost a panic…fear was overwhelming, anger no where to be seen, but as a survival response, I listened, I heard my body tell me this man was as dangerous as they come and thats why I was shaking, so I ran for the hills, let him away with destroying me.Simple. Do you want your life? or do you want revenge?

What makes me particularly sick is these creeps ‘get off’ on seeing our reactions, feeding off our fear, feeling our energy if we are anywhere near them…it simply turns them on. That is why my ex N knocked on my window…to frighten me and hopefully see me in my fright, hear me tell him to get lost, hear my voice wobble maybe even say something smartass like “what part of no contact do you not understand” he would love that….so IGNORING him was the perfect response. He fumbled around wondering what to do (looked pathetic) and went off…great.
He came back and the second time he knocked slower (freaky) and had his face up to the glass…yes I was freaked but I didn’t move…he walked around, sat on the railings a bit and then scuttled off..

he didn’t see ME SEEING him, I felt powerful because I was hidden and he did not know what was going to happen next….I had a few options, I chose to stare back at him silently through the nets (he hadn’t the nerve to peer through long enough to hit eye contact…but I think he would have got a fright to suddenly see my face…ha ha if he only knew how angry I was..he would have ran screaming…keep em in suspense, turn being a victim on it’s head with NO CONTACT…because if you do not react…you are the one in control, nice feeling….if he is on my property I’m the one stalking him even if I am on my own…

one step- yes you are right I should have logged in the information with the police, and I have the texts all saved with dates etc. why did I not do it? because to be honest I thought it would escalate and it died off…I’m sure it was because I repeatedly rejected him, ignored him…gave him NOTHING..he got bored and “appears” to have moved off….one flicker of anything else and I will go straight to police. He didnt SEE how scared I was…when they cannot see anything they have nothing to go on so it seems to be effective. Stay hidden, no contact…nothing.

Even if he caught me outside or on the street, I would not even interact with him I would use my feet to quickly dissappear and then tell the police.

I feel confident he will never catch me, I live in a very highly populated street, with friends and a landlord who is ex cop and a good friend of mine..I’m not in some remote place…thank God because I’d be terrified…I would turn into a military soldier in camoflage trousers hiding in bushes with weapons and exit plans!!! and another thing, it’s kind of exciting! a kind of post traumatic stress lifestyle with fashion to go with it…

super chic

bulletproof, some anger over here would be good, the zombie thing is getting old. He’s just coming back to see if I am the same sap I was before (I’m not). His agenda? Sex. Not happening. Should be pretty easy for me to look bored! I’m bored out of my mind. But I don’t want him to know anything about me, I want him to think I’m living the high life!!! Last time he asked me if I had found a job yet and I said “No, of course there is no rush for me to get a job.” LOL! He can lie, well… so can I !!!


Shabby…I know about wanting him to think “I’m living the high life” but the news is….He does not give a shit one way or another..he can lie and so can you? stop playing with him shabby he will crush you like a bug, and you are worth more than that… all he wants is your human energy to feed off…shabs think of your innocence, your beauty and your ability to love…please take it with you or HE will hoover it up and you will end up post traumatically stressed and crazy like the rest of us….gather up your sanity whats left of it and just run. that means no contact…you won’t do it till you hit the anger, that’s why I think anger should be tolerated on this site, it’s crucial in negotiating this stuff…IF you get angry, I will not judge you, I will celebrate with you…just let me know when you are ready…..

Front Porch Talker

Thank you for being brave enough to talk about involuntary commitment at Fairfax and the PTSD & GAD that got you there.

Believe me I know about that as having been there for much the same thing, however my legal rights stated that I had to have a court evaluation within 48 hours to assess statements made by a friend and actions by the WA State Mental Health Authority individual that woke me in my hospital room at 1:00 AM asking me questions and then stated that he was proceeding with the commitment because I was “persnickety.”

Then of course there were the drug cocktails given to me by the psychiatrist at Fairfax that literally made me feel a zombie. Thankfully, there was a RN that told me despite what the “commitment” form stated that I did not have to take any medication. Then she provided me access to the library where I could look up the effects of the drugs they had given me. I discovered that 1 was known to cause extreme anxiety and 1 of the other was known to cause extreme sedation. I was so angry! When I saw the psychiatrist that morning before being driven to court, having written down all the drugs and side effects, I totally reamed him out. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that I had misplaced my anger at him and it was a definite sign of my suicidal tendencies and diagnosis of manic and/or bipolar disorder. I told him in no uncertain terms that being as he had ordered and given me the drugs that I couldn’t see where the anger was misplaced at all.

Anyway at the court, the secondary mental health individual at the hospital met with me noting that my friend’s comments when asked and written down by the original assessor that took me at 1:00 AM from the hospital had been totally misconstrued. Therefore, they were withdrawing the involuntary commitment order and only asking that I see a therapist for 3 months. Well hell I was already seeing a therapist who was really helping deal with the PTSD & GAD that were directly resulting from the 10 year relationship with the psychopath in my personal life and the 2 I ran into, or up against at work.

I made complaints to the WA State Mental Health Authority and basically all they did was provide a slap on the wrist of the original psychiatrist and employee who had signed the commitment orders by misconstruing comments made by a friend at that time. However, I found out later than none of these individuals work at the hospital or the Mental Health Authority any longer which did make me feel a bit better.

Its still is a long hard road dealing with the PTSD and resulting panic disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder at times, but I am improving slowly but surely. One of the biggest things I’ve found is avoiding ALL the antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs that are so often prescribed without really understanding their long term effects.

So …. hang in there I do know that it takes time but things do improve slowly but surely!


There’s a thread somewhere on this site called “He is the Lie”. Shabby, that’s what he is, but not something that you have to become. I know, at least in my case, that silence is the best and most powerful tool you have in your arsenal. Bulletproof has given some good advice. This is not about him, this is about YOU. You have to make it about YOUR sanity, YOUR health, YOUR safety, YOUR well-being.

You have to allow yourself time to process the experiencce that you’ve been through. It’s kind of like grieving over the loss of your innocence, the loss of the relationship to the person you thought was someone, but turned out to be something totally different.

I wish you all the best!

kim frederick

Has anybody read, “On Being Sane in Insane Places”, by Stanley Milgram? I think…can’t be sure. Also, One Flew Over the Cukooes Nest…Girl Interupted…etc. etc. etc.

It’s easier for MDs to medicated problem patients (women) than deal with them….why do you think so many of us are written off as border-lines? Comments?

super chic

bp & hf, thank you, I do realize that everything that comes out of his mouth is a lie. 2 months ago he was told to never call or come by here again (that was after almost a year of NC). Then last week, after a house 2 doors down from me burned to the ground, he came by the next day to see if I was “ok”, ha ha, right, just keep on driving by a-hole!!! He said he has been giving me “space”!!! WTF!!! I don’t want him coming over here at all, I want to forget him and travel down my road to freedom. I don’t feel safe when I know he’s out there prowling around, not fearful for my physical self, but for my emotional self. I just try to be my fabulous self when I have seen him, I don’t want him to know how I was hurt. Screw him!!! Oh, regarding the “high life”… he thinks I have plenty of money to just stay home and not work, and it’s killing him that he can’t have any of it. Too bad. I need a job!

kim frederick

You know, sometimes the Dr. is god, too. Especially for someone who has been gas-lighted, taught to doubt herself, and feels crazy, a Narcissistic Dr. with a God compklex is almost inevitable…

There are a host of feminist writings from the 60’s and 70’s on the topic….



kim frederick

yes, I really love the films you mentioned…’girl interrupted’ and ‘one flew over the cuckoos nest’. I loved these movies as a young woman long before I fell for a psychopath disguised as the love of my life….I was …hopeful, open naive and he got me! horrible, true, and now ~I’m recovering what’s left of me…he really smashed my dreams on the rocks, no warning just very abruptly withdrew his energy at the exact same time I looked across at him and thought….fraud!

Angelina Jolie played the psychopath in ‘girl interrupted’ and Winona Rider played the Empathic one caught up with ‘mental illness and what it will do to you’ I LOVED Angelina Jolie in the movie which helps explaining to me why I fell for a psychopath. I totally mixed up being sassy, sexy with evil (sorry but it’s true) I interpret ‘evil’ with non conformist, innovative and exciting. There you have it. …having met with that version of events can I please please change my mind? (need reassurance, very upset) I really thought , being brought up in a very strict catholic environment that going against the grain was exciting….never realising what EVIL really meant until too late.

Cuckoos nest, adored Jack Nicholson and I hated the nurse bitch, but my notion at the time was naive and Romantic…a real psychopath rips that naivety away and left me in bits…the mental institution was the ‘psychopath’ in cuckoos nest, and the innocence and beauty stayed with the patients…an extraordinary film with such heart and soul against the sterile soul less zombie like control of the ‘mental institution’

I just want to be honest, and try and sift out where I went wrong…(no one else) I just feel very lonely,misunderstood and very very sad…~I wish I could have stayed in love and deepened a relationship but here I am at 50 with…no relationship and ptsd, I really would have loved a relationship, and I keep thinking I have done something wrong…I attracted a psychopath…wtf


Bulletproof, learn NOT to be so hard on yourself. You only went with the flow of what you thought was truth. You (as we all) didn’t know that everything that comes out of “THEIR” mouths is a lie from hello to goodbye.

Watch the movie Gone With the Wind with new eyes. Pay close attention to the beginning of the movie on how Scarlet O’Hara works the room at the Bar-b-q … stroking every one or any one that comes into her space (men and women, old or young … no one is off limits for the likes of her) of what she wants any time she wants, defying all rules and regulations (to a Spath, rules are meant to be broken). Scarlet is the proverbial Narcissist as she bats her eyes, acts innocent, smiles to everyone’s face, lies, cheats, steals and even drives one of her husbands to be killed to get what she wants, any time she wants, all at the expense of every one/any one. This Scarlet mentality doesn’t just apply to selfish, anti-social women, it applies to the selfish, anti-social men as well.

Peace to your heart and soul as you heal.


Thanks Wini, from the soul..needed your words, …and I will not be so hard on’s torture…I wished upon a star and got a black hole….thanks for being there at the moment I really needed you. Peace to all our hearts and souls as we heal. thanks


Bulletproof, that black hole is what Bugs Bunny uses. Any time that crazy wabbit can’t get out of something after he uses logic and compassion, he just reaches into his pocket (side of his wabbit pant legs) and pulls that little wabbit hole out … and poof … down the wabbit hole he goes to get away from the psychos of this world (SMILE).

Bugs Bunny was another cartoon I always kept on my BB at work. No one ever knew why (LOL). They just assumed it was due to my creative side … aka wishful thinking, I could throw that wabbit hole in front of where “they” walked … and down, down, down they go.



You are a hoot, sometimes! What’s weird is last week when I was at work, I had a thought about Taz (the Looney Tune’s character), resembling spaths in particular, acting crazy, whirling in and out of our lives, creating a disaster, leaving us to clean up the mess (if it’s possible to do so). It’s interesting that you identified with a cartoon character also.



I feel your pain. I am in my 40’s, having had my birthday at the end of June. Ugh! Getting older, never imagining that at my age, I would be in the mess that I’m in due to ONE individual It sucks. Gosh, I expected to have a settled existence, but no such luck. For sure, life is full of changes, wanted and unwanted changes. Don’t beat yourself up is right – it does no good. I had the thought last week that spaths resemble the Looney Tune character Spaz (the tasmanian devil character), running through our lives like a hurricane, doing their damage, then whirling out of our lives, being left with the aftermath of a storm. We’re clearing up after the damn storm.


bp – you said: ‘I totally mixed up being sassy, sexy with evil (sorry but it’s true) I interpret ’evil’ with non conformist, innovative and exciting.’

‘a real psychopath rips that naivety away and left me in bits”’

‘”having met with that version of events can I please please change my mind? ‘

this describes me also. but i would also include an attraction to a certain abandon – people who are true to their slightly deviant natures (or what is called deviance by many folk – in public)

i spent 18 years alone because i didn’t trust my instincts anymore, and because I got herpes form my first gf (so nothing even close to casual was on my list of possibilities.)
I finally got up the guts to pay homage to my own deviance after 20 years of squelching it – first person i went out with was an n. next was the spath.

if i meet another one i will WALK fast. first inkling of shit – i exit. we are far to old not to love and far too old to be with people who don’t. if we can hold to that and do what we can to develop that within us, (and armed with what we do know) we should be okay. i know it’s scary. lovers and mates are optional – not like work and home – i am not going to do so well in those places when i deal with disordered ones, but i am looking forward to the opportunity to learn. i am still alive, and i can learn.

now, of course oxy and hens say i am not allowed to actually kill anyone, so i will sit up here on this limb and learn patience.


You can still sit perched with the AK47 in that tree…..your just NOT ALLOWED to shoot it!!!! Thats’ learning self control AND patience. 🙂
Sometimes just the thought is enough to satisfy…’s when it’s not enough, you should really worry!!!

Sometimes I crack myself up with the things I think…..and sometimes my ‘backspath’ actions are laughable too!

Patience my dear…..patience…..

(OH, and don’t fall out of that tree…..that’s never a good sign either!)


BlueJay, I believe cartoons and comic books are the same as the mask of the comedian, always showing us clarity as we laugh at the audaciousness of the “act”.

I worked with 80% loonie tunes too. I used to visualize them doing that TAZ dance of theirs … swirling, spinning, scooping, chomping, sucking … burping and then they’d frazzle on down the road to the next unsuspecting victim.

It’s does look like Mel Blanc was on to something, trying to tell the rest of us to beware!

Rest his precious soul.


Maybe I’m just being an undisciplined child or I think I’m an adult. But my dad keeps switching on who he pays attention to the most. When my little sister first came he ignored her, picked on her, tried to make her look bad, and constantly ridiculed her. She just kept to her room and concentrated on other things. Well now my dad does the same to me. He demands respect and gets angry with me for little things. He makes lies up to everyone in his family. He tries to isolate me whenever he makes plans for the “family”. Usually my siblings just ignore him and include me in the plans. He gets frustrated whenever my siblings and I do stuff together. He tries to make it seem like its a competition between the two of us and I’m like dude you are my dad! He said that I’m the blame for us not going on vacation during spring break. My uncle told himk that I was going to be an adult in one week. It is time for me to be treated like one. He grew real angry and started to slam the table. He tries to ridicule me in front of my siblinbgs but they never seem to care. Or while he sits and smirks they just ignore him. So what is going on in this sociopath’s head?


EB – MY GIRL! you are always good for the RIGHT laugh around my desire to decimate!

‘baskspath’ is a GOOOOd word.

can i just, um, drop the AK47 on them and beam them? 😉
(okay i really meant through, but shhhhh.)



hurtnomore – he may be your dad, but he’s a spath first. and gaslight/divide and conquer is high up on the menu. if you accept that all the weird shit he pulls is just an illustration of his ppathy, then it gets a lot easier.

IGNORE HIS MANIPULATION, and just try really hard to stay connected to your sibs.

one step.


Hurtnomore010, that’s what is called Gaslighting. There is a good article on this subject right on this site.

“They” are all about control and they don’t care how they get control or who gets hurt because of their actions to control. If caught, they play the victim to throw you off guard and feel sorry for them.

Another good book to read is “People of the Lie”.




Sweetie, spaths always have to have someone or something that they’re against. When my h-spath was in business with his ex business partners, there was always something going on, something that he was bothered about, trying to get his way, not always succeeding, being sneaky and underhanded in his process of getting what he supposedly wanted. I talked to a therapist at my work place – she told me that being married to a sociopath is equivalent to being with an alcoholic, they create DRAMA. Your father CANNOT empathise with anyone, including you, dear one. He doesn’t see the pain that he causes you or others. I’m glad you’re smart, realizing that it’s his disordered mind that’s leading the way, causing him to do what he does, not the people in his life.


FrontPorchTalker, thank you so much for generating the courage to post your experiences. It reiterates the depth of damage that spaths perpetrate with impugnity.

I cannot imagine how horrifying your experiences must have been – I had been threatened often with being committed, and I towed the line to avoid that very thing! I can’t imagine how you must have felt being ignored in the ER – I just can’t.

Thank you for sharing your experiences and your incredible wisdom – makes my experiences look like a cake-walk!

Brightest blessings to you!


Voodoo dolls are a great idea!

I had so many pins I didn’t know what to do with….because I don’t sew…….SOOOOO, I found a great doll to stab.
Felt good to me at least!
Hey….whatever works huh!

One…..ya gotta remember…..THEY ALWAYS EXPOSE THEMSELVES!!!!! I know you want control over this…..but I will tell you……..It’s even more rewarding to know YOU had nothing to do with their eventual demise!!! I KNOW THIS!!!

I see all the trouble spaths been getting into, and how he’s (even now) keeps running……and running…..and the fact is….he’s running from himself….and he cant’ run fast enough…
He’s a good example of finding peace within ourselves….he can’t do it! Way too many buried issues and shame, so he goes from state to state conning others into giving him things….places to stay, dinners out, cars to drive, fancy lifestyles, and he can’t keep up the victim front and has to move along.
He always land back up where we grew up…..because all the HS folks feel to him like a connection. BUT the reality is, they are only a drug connection. They don’t ‘like’ him, they tolerate him…..get their drugs and then they don’t contact him. It’s him contacting them to renew their drug supply’s, and his spath supply. It’s enough to fill his ego, knowing they will be around him, he’s got himself fooled as they like him. When they start to pull away, he moves on….another mind fuck…..he stays gone 6 months and then reappears when they have forgotten what a dick he is, and they are quickly reminded…..again. Cycle continues.
Now he’s reaching out to ELEMENTARY SCHOOL peeps….and old teachers…..
HOW PATHETIC IS THIS!!! He’s extending his supply to easy connections for himself. Hey, everyone likes a guy from KINDERGARTEN!!!!

I sooooo see his game…….and I can predict his next moves by who he’s getting in touch with (FB). 🙂 And what states he currently in.

In Fl….he’s conning weathy peeps, Using victimization as his cover.
In Ca….it’s hometown cons, using familiarity as his cover
In CO. its family cons, using family ties as his cover
In HI it’s bro cons…..using the aloha spirit as his cover
And in my state…..very few are interested…..he’s exposed himself here!!!

His lifestyle of showing up and leaving….playing the broke victim….won’t last….especially since he’s a drug dealer who doesn’t work but seems to have plenty of money to do as HE pleases with his destinations….

Hang tough…….find some confort in the thoughts….but rest well…KNOWING….she/it/he/ will get what is deserved in the end!!!!!!


Good post BlueJay.


Hurtnomore010, it is as One_step and Wini have described: divide and conquer.

A sociopath is a sociopath, regardless of where they stand as a family member. They do not recognize the bonds of “family,” just as they do not recognize the boundaries of society. They do what they do because the CAN. And, they covet the control that it gives them more than anything else. They cannot love – they are incapable of simple human emotion. And, they use/abuse those human beings who DO feel and create terrible weapons to use against us with our feelings.

Bless your heart……you’re a valuable, beautiful human being, and you are in the right place at this site, my dear.

Brightest, most healing blessings to you.


so what do you suggest I do? Because I have been just going about my business and getting ready for school. My little sister seems to want to intervene and tell him that we need to talk it out. I keep telling her to just let it go and that he’s never going to change.


Voodoo dolls…………ROTFLMAOTMNR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Hurtnomore010, to start, stay on this site and read everything you can. Knowledge is power. Then blog with us. Anyone that is on line at the time will gladly write you back.

Always keep your waters calms. Keep peace in your heart, mind and soul. That always gets to a Spath because they live and breath the total opposite. Sad but true. It takes as much energy to do good as it does to do evil.



Divide and conquer…..and make you second guess yourself….it’s you it’s you…..NOT!!!!

Spath always had a ‘brawl’ going on with SOMEONE….if it wasn’t me…it was someone inhis family, or a client, or a friend, or my family, or one kid or another….or a neighbor, or someone on the freeway he could do roadrage to….
I THOUGHT it was his mother initially, and finally I said, enough… he didn’t speak to his mother and things at home improved…..but then…..he replaced his mothers brawls with someone else….a.nyone else…..and he constantly had some adversity going on…..
I REALIZED it was HIM! He liked to get under peoples skin…..and I told him this…..and I said… ain’t gonna do it with me or the kids!!!

So….knowing this about him…..I know this is what he still does……and I can predict who is his latest brawl focus.

You have a headstart about how your dad operates….you know this….TAKE IT AS FACT and realize…..only YOU can do something about this… get away!
Who gives a shiat what anyone else thinks of you….this is YOUR LIFE…..go seize it!
And quite taking crap from this man!
You have choices…..don’t be afraid of them!


Wini- It just gets so tiring and heart wrenching when he lies to the people in my life about who I am as a person. Especially, when he plays the respect card. He has no regards to the fact that I’m a woman and he can’t do certain things. I’ve learned previously from OxDrover to turn off my cell phone when I’m on a date. I try to talk it out and my mom always wants to know what he does. But she always says to give in and stuff. I’m like there’s no way I’m going to let this guy block me from dating and being a normal young adult. She thinks he’s telling the truth about the respect thing. He’s lying. I learned from my aunt to not let him go through my stuff or my bathroom and complain there’s feminine products.


Step out of the triangle. You can’t control your sister or your father….and get out of his home.
Make other ooptions for yourself.
And while your there…..ignore him with a gracious smile.

It IS tiring and heartwrenching…..but there is NOTHING you can do except leave him…….


EB – i like this. i will think on it. then i will drop the heavy ol rifle. oops, it slipped.

‘THEY ALWAYS EXPOSE THEMSELVES!!!!! ..It’s even more rewarding to know YOU had nothing to do with their eventual demise!!!


Well then……if he wont’ let you have feminine products…….take ALL his soxs and casually mention to him, you need them for your monthly AUNT FLOW’s VISIT!

Sorry….don’t do that…..that just infuriates me!!!


HurtNoMore010, I agree with Erin. Get your own space and out of his loony space. Remember, no matter what he says, he’s lying to control you and/or others in any given situation.

As Erin says, smile until it hurts. Which means, you never tell an ash hole they are an ash hole. Why? Because they are an ASH HOLE. Do NOT try to have a civil conversation with an Ash hole. They use what you tell them as fuel for the next time they need to control you. And, there is always the need to control in their warped world.

Peace to your heart and soul as you heal from this heel. You folks that have to deal with a parent who’s a control freak absolutely, positively break my heart.

Focus on Peace and Love and Peace and Love is what you will get. Step around those that don’t respect what you are seeking.


EB- its more like he complains to my mom that we leave them out but we don’t. He goes through our stuff, my little sister and I. I’m leaving for college in a month and a half.
I’m excited and relieved.


hurtnomore – he complains about your feminine products???!! LOSER!

I mean REALLY!

perhaps the extent he goes to find something to spath about is in direct proportion to what you all give him – in this case you are all doing very well if he needs to bitch about this.


One…yeah, make sure when the gun drops or slips from the limb, the firing side is facing the target…..sometimes it can accidently on purpose hit a target……OOoooopsie. 🙂


chuckle snort wheeze. …. 🙂 🙂


One- yeah and we are just like he is such a liar! What do you want us to use? paper?


Bake him a cake for your departure and put tampons as candles on it……and leave him some condoms to wrap up the leftovers in (keeps things fresher than ziplocks)!!!!!!!
Then decorate the front door with sanitary napkins stuck on, spelling out……SEE YA!

Oh yeah……and make sure you put your old underware in HIS laundry basket upon your departure…..with a note saying, hey didn’t have time to finish the wash….thanks dad….luv ya!

I’m sorry…..but this is just a crime!


Hurtnomore010, respect is to be EARNED, even by a mother or father. The ex spath father of my sons demanded “respect” on a constant basis. Spaths confuse “respect” with “fear.” In the World of Spathy, they are one and the same.

Keep moving through your day, keep reading and learning, and begin making a plan to support yourself and get educated so that you can get OUT. You cannot protect or save anyone other than yourself, dear heart, and the first step in saving yourself is being here on this site. As events unfold and opportunities arise, you’ll be able to get out of that fractured situation and move forward on your healing path.

And, for God’s sake…….do not look to another human being to take care of you! Not another man, not another woman, NOBODY. When we are forced (or, choose) to rely upon another person to see to our needs, we have given over control of our lives to them. Become the independent woman you were meant to be – smart, sharp, and on the healing path.

BRIGHTEST blessings! 😀

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