Lovefraud recently received the following e-mail from a reader:
How do I process a relationship that had so many lies in it that I don’t know really with whom I was involved?
I miss the person I thought I knew so much, but at the same time, he was involved with someone else, and others, since at least last June. I thought he had had one affair—but not anything to the extent that it looks like now.
How do I process a relationship I never had? Was he lying the whole time acting out the “I love you’s”, the romantic comments, and the idea that we should be together? Is it all an act?
Most of us are reading and posting on Lovefraud because we were intensely, callously, brutally deceived in a relationship with a sociopath. The betrayal was so deep, and so profound, that all we can say is that the person we thought we knew, the relationship we thought we had, didn’t exist.
Much has been written here on Lovefraud about the different aspects of recovery. But in response to this reader’s e-mail, I’ll review some of the key points.
Understanding sociopaths and “love”
Sociopaths do not feel empathy for other human beings. Therefore, they do not have the ability to love as we understand it. There is no emotional connection, no true caring for the target of their “affections.”
What is going on when sociopaths say, “I love you?” They are not all the same, so there is a range of explanations for what they mean.
At the clueless end of the range, sociopaths may view the target as attractive arm candy, or may like the attention they receive from the target, or may enjoy sex with the target. Sociopaths may label as “love” whatever it is they feel with the target. So, “I love you,” means, “I like how I look when you’re with me,” or, “I like the fact that you’re showering me with attention,” or, “I like having sex with you.”
At the sinister end of the range, sociopaths know they are cold-hearted predators and view their targets the way cats view mice. These sociopaths play with their targets for awhile, then, when they tire of the game, abandon them, leaving the targets battered and gasping. Or, some sociopaths will go in for the kill, usually figuratively, but sometimes literally.
The reader asked, “Is it all an act?” Often, the answer is yes.
Accepting reality
The sociopath may have painted a picture of an exquisite future of unending togetherness and bliss. Or, the sociopath may have latched on to our own nurturing instincts, and convinced us that they can only survive with our caring and support. Then the mask slips, the story unravels, and we learn that everything we believed was a lie.
We must accept this reality. We must believe our own eyes and recognize the truth.
This may be really difficult. We thought we were working towards our dream. We made important life decisions based on what we were told. We may have spent a lot of money—maybe all of our money—at the behest of the sociopath.
We don’t want to believe that it was all a cruel mirage. We argue with ourselves—there must be some other explanation, some other reason. We may say, “I must have misunderstood; no one can be that heartless.”
Yes, sociopaths are that heartless.
The reasons they are heartless do not matter. Yes, in some cases they have had bad parents and a terrible childhood. But as an adult, they are not going to change. They are what they are, and the sooner we accept that, the sooner we can begin to recover.
Time and permission to recover
The psychological and emotional damage that we suffer because of our entanglements with sociopaths is often extensive. We may experience anxiety, depression, guilt, self-hatred, and perhaps even post traumatic stress disorder.
Some of us are so angry with ourselves for falling for the scam that we punish ourselves by blocking our own recovery. We say we will never trust again; never love again.
Please do not feel this way. If you never recover, giving up on trust and love, the sociopath will have truly won. Deny him or her that victory. Give yourself permission to recover.
Recovering from this damage is not an event; it’s a process. Readers often ask, “How long will it take?” The answer: It will take as long as it takes.
We may need to move forward in several directions at once, but it’s okay to move forward slowly. Some steps to take:
- Protecting our physical safety, if the sociopath has made threats, and what remains of our financial assets.
- Taking care of our physical health—eating right, getting enough exercise and sleep, avoiding alcohol and other substances.
- Finding a way to release the pent-up anger and pain within us, without showing it to the sociopath, because that will backfire.
- Rebuilding relationships with family members and friends that were damaged because of the sociopath.
- Letting moments of joy, no matter how small, into our lives. Joy expands, so the more we can let in, the more it will grow and the better we will feel.
The Lovefraud Blog has many more articles that focus on how to recover from the sociopathic entanglement. You’ll find them in the following category:
Believe in yourself. You can do this. You can get past the experience. You may have lost your innocence, but in the end, you’ll gain invaluable wisdom.
darwin’s my cat :p
One step, I’m SO envious that you can walk to a body of water, maybe a beach and that you actually see snakes there! I can go herping in Colorado and never see snakes. To me, seeing a snake in the wild is like finding a hidden treasure. Last night I dreamt that I found a sea snake washed up on shore. In Costa Rica, we had a day where we went looking for sea snakes in the ocean. But we never saw any. They are supposedly black with bright yellow stripes. So this is the color that snake was in my dream last night.
This morning, I will go to the gym and then go see the movie African Cats, which is playing down the street next to the gym at the $2.00 theater. Yesterday I went to the pool and got my first sunburn of the year. I guess I overdid it a little. The only thing I splurge on every summer is very good (and very expensive) suntan lotion. I buy it from a salon and it gets pricier every year. It is up to $45 now. But I love this stuff because I can tan very quickly with it. I don’t really feel like all is right with the world until I have my summer tan – I’m very vain about that. I was so white in Costa Rica. And I had to slather myself with sunscreen there so I didn’t fry, because it’s so close to the equator. So I didn’t get any color there. It just doesn’t seem right. It’s been a long winter of dry skin and winter eczema, which I got a really bad case of this year. So it’s nice to get out at the pool, go for a swim, and get a little color, even if it’s the wrong color – red. It will turn to tan in a few days, and I will have my usual summer beachbum look soon. I can’t wait till I move to Costa Rica and can have it all year round. I lived in SoCal for about 9 years as a teenager and young adult, and I never got over being a “California” girl. These cold winters just don’t cut it for me.
My only socializing this weekend was when a massage client came over yesterday for an hour and a half. Other than that, I’ve spent the weekend mainly by myself, and I didn’t mind at all. I probably could have hung out with other people, but I didn’t want to. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m an introvert or an extrovert. I think I am both. I know I’m very picky about the people I hang out with. I don’t like to be around people who drain my energy.
The pool noise has started, which will be a test of my patience. If I can get through the summer without shooting someone, it will be a miracle. I wear shooting range earplugs at the pool, but when I’m inside, I don’t like to wear them.
I haven’t yet seen neighbor boy at the pool having his loud cell phone conversations that we are all forced to listen to. I’m actually considering getting a cell phone just so I can also have loud cell phone conversations at the pool to drown out his. That’s what everyone likes to do at the pool. It’s rather obnoxious, but I’m starting to think if you can’t beat them, join them.
As you can see, I have nothing deep and penetrating today. I feel blocked. I may seek some energy work at some point. Ugh. I hate this.
Darwinsmom, my cat is named Destructo. It might give people a good laugh if I changed my name to Destructosmom. LOL
I really wish that I had a dog right now. It would make a huge difference in my loneliness factor. My only problem is that I can’t support one right now.
nolarn:
What time do you go to work today?
eb-I called last night and I had to stay home. I have the WORST bladder infection of my life. I drank cranberry juice and water all day to try and stop it. I have the chills and nausea and pain and I couldn’t pee until the middle of the night. I almost went too the ER.
ghostwriter:
So true about the “I love you’s.” My X only told me once, but it was very odd. He of course did NOT mean it at all. It was the first night we ever were intimate and we were standing up and he looked right in my eyes and his eyes were sparkling and he said, “I f&^cking love you.” It came out of nowhere and I know it meant nothing. He thought he had to say it for me to sleep with him. HA. Like we were 16 years old or something. That is not why I stayed with him that night. I had already made up my mind before he even told me that was “the” night. I told him much later my feelings about that whole exchange. It was in a letter though so I didn’t get a response from him.
darwinsmom:
Totally agreed! I didn’t pursue this man, HE pursued me and relentlessly I must add…the lovebomb. I didn’t have all the other stuff you had, but still. That’s why I felt bad when my friends were giving me crap about it. Oh, well. Somedays I am perfectly OK and other days I feel the anger coming back in and I think today is one of those days. I also felt a bit isolated this holiday weekend even though I really do have a lot friends, but it’s a holiday and everyone is doing their own thing with their families, etc. I am OK, I am used to it, but that’s when the demons start coming into my mind. I am meeting a friend at 1:00 though so that will be good.
I named him Darwin after the man. He his bros and sisters and his probable father tomcat were picked from the street by a woman who has a non-profit organisation (mostly using her own house, that of her parents, family and friends) to first socialise the animals (dogs and cats), as well as neuter them, and then find an adoption candidate for them. And you don’t get to pick up a cat like that either: first a whole interview about your living circumstances, knowledge and experience of the species, and then you sign a contract with her taking responsibility over the pet and not having the right to give it to someone else. Lastly you pay a small sum for the neutering and anti-parasite aids.
Darwin’s parents and the nest were put on the street by a couple who moved to another appartment. The mother was missing. Luckily for the kittens, the tomcat (a real socialised sweet animal) attempted to take over the mother-role and fed them.
I got Darwin, a few days after I had returned from Nicaragua (my first time and hadn’t met P then), because my previous cat Nelson had died during his holidays at my parents. It was too much to bear to live all by myself without even a pet’s company at my appartment. I didn’t want some cute kitten, cause I knew I was still freshly mourning Nelson. I was looking for an older animal, like a cat of a year old, cause it’s often so more harder to place them, and because hte older cat already has a developed cat personality, and so even living together, the cat and I would need our time to adjust to each other. I actually came to visit Darwin’s dad. Darwin just happened to be there in a cage in the middle of the room, and he was scared shitless of everything. He only felt safe in the cage. (My Nelson instead was claustrophobic).
2 days I doubted between the several candidates, and mostly between the dad and Darwin. Eventually I chose the almost 3 month old scared shitless kitten, and I named him Darwin for being a survivor… I thought. Some behaviours he clearly picked up from living on food on the street… it’s better now, but he used to grab any paper and rip it to shreds with his teeth. He’d steal it from the printer tray even. I suspect that is because most sandwiches leftover come wrapped in paper.
Ironically to his name, he’s actually inequipped to survive on his own. I’m quite sure the mother must have disappeared around the time when she was still telling her kittens to stay absolutely still in their nest, not give a peep or sound, and just wait until mom would haul them out of the nest by their scruffs. The tomcat nourished them afterwards, but wouldn’t have known how to teach kittens. He probably just mimicked the last behaviour he witnessed of the mother cat.
Darwin was and still is stuck in that phase. One time, when I cat and housesitted at my parents I tried to teach him to go in the garden, but I used a cat leash for it. He panicked and was able to escape from the cat-leash-girdle, and sprinted to the back of the garden over the back hedge to I didn’t know where. For close to 24 hours I walked around the block calling him. Even at night I called his name in a mommy cat way close to where he had escaped. I had hoped that if he was hiding under a hedge somewhere he’d at least yip back (as more developed kittens eventually do). Eventually the back-neighbour found him hiding in the chicken barn, behind a sack. The spot where he was hiding was no more further away than 1 m where I had been trying to call him. It was just beside the chicken entrance where he had escaped into. So, he hadn’t moved for all that time, not a peep, not even looking for water. Even when I came inside, he didn’t come. I needed to grab him by the scruffs and pick him outside. When I did that though, he didn’t struggle at all. He was a good baby kitten, though he was a year old by then.
Now, I know that he doesn’t have the skills to look out for himself: for food or water. He’d rather hide in something nestlike and die of thirst waiting for mom to come and get him.
And at this very moment, he’s doing one of his weird safety sleeps. He’s sleeping under a rug in my bedroom. He thinks he’s invisible… but you see a big giant bump and the rug bulge out. And if I were to touch him, he’ll make a kitten sound that sounds like a vocalized purr, rather than a miauw.
Poor cat can’t even miauw properly. He was neutered by the lady of the non-profit-organization at a very young age… about when he was 2 months or so. He can yip and peep like Farinelli, but he sure ain’t no baritone!
nolarn:
Oh, no! 🙁