I am often asked how I managed to get out of that place of darkness to live with such light and joy in my heart today. The answer is fairly simple — I chose to. The reality is much more complex. The following piece describes where I got to in that journey. It is an excerpt from my book, The Dandelion Spirit. I originally wrote it on a forum I belonged to about a year after he was arrested. It was my ‘explanation’ of what happened to me in that relationship.
There is a warning with this post — it may trigger you. If it does, breathe — and know, when a trigger explodes in your mind, it is your opportunity to embrace it, walk into it, accept it and heal it. Only you can make that choice. Triggers exist in our mind. The past is no longer. It is gone. The memories are what are hurting us. And when we pull the trigger and let the bullet of memory pierce us, we give ourselves the grace of being free. Nameste
He told her it was ”˜love at first sight’. Destiny. Fate. He asked her to marry him on the first date — has anyone ever loved you so completely? Has anyone ever swept you off your feet with such passion? Such fervour? She told him she was not ready. He pursued.
He wanted sex within the first week or two of meeting and showered her with gifts, flowers, champagne, to prove he truly, madly deeply loved her and only her. When she told him it was too soon for physical intimacy, that she needed to ”˜go slowly’ he respected her wishes. But, then he arranged a ”˜special’ weekend away at an exotic location to surprise her. How could she refuse him?
And on that first time together, he became short of breath, his skin started to flake from lack of oxygen. He had a heart-attack. The ambulance came. She was whisked away, and though his business partners kept her informed of his health, she never knew where he was, or what was truly happening. When next she saw him, he sadly told her of his rare heart condition. Being ”˜a man’s man’ he could not fathom living with someone else’s heart beating in his body. He must undergo experimental surgery, but only once his heart has deteriorated to a point that it was feasible — 1 month, 2 months at the outside 3.
He gave her a new cell phone so that she did not need to worry about the expense. He constantly reminded her that though she was successful in her own right, all that she had accomplished to create her beautiful life was nothing compared to what he would make possible. He told her that no one would ever want for her what he could give her, for what he was going to give her were her dreams come true. The dreams she had whispered to him while lying safely in his arms, the world far away and silent. He held her and told her of his love. He laughed and teased her, told her with fervent kisses of his dreams for ”˜them’, for their happily ever after.
And she slid into his arms.
Everything circled around his desires and wants—he was dying, he was weak. He could not be ”˜excited’. But even in his ‘ill health’, he was only concerned about her well-being. He told her he was setting up trust funds, changing over his insurance policies, investing in her business, investing in other businesses to create a life for her greater than any she could ever imagine — or ask for or wanted. She only wanted him to live.
As his health failed, he would confess that he was part of an organized family. One of the ”˜upper echelon’. She didn’t understand. She didn’t believe those things really existed. He told her that was what made her so beautiful. Her innocence. Her belief in goodness.
“You do not believe in evil,” he said, stroking her hair where he held her head against his chest. “You have not seen what I have seen.”
What did the past matter, she wondered. He was dying. Now was all they had to share.
As a parting gift, he wanted to give her the story of his life — “It will be such a story,” he said. “Your fame as a writer will be assured.” It will be called, ”˜A New Don Rising’ for he was changing the old guard, he was ridding the ”˜family’ of its unethical, illegal businesses. He was honourable, righteous. He did not want to be remembered for the destruction he had created, but for the lives he had saved through his ”˜good works’. She was his inspiration, his reason for hanging on to see that what he started was completed, and that she never need for anything again. That she and her daughters were safe from harm.
He had secret friends, and many, many enemies. He will toy with her by telling her that his enemies were willing to harm her and her children to get at him. He told her evil men had sent him three bullets. Pictures of a young girl being violated — she looks like your eldest daughter, he said. These evil men were threatening to kidnap her daughter, drug her and put her in the sex trade unless she remained silent. He promised he would never let harm come to her and them, but she must do what he says and be silent. Only silence will keep her children safe. She will never see these evil men, but he will tearfully tell her of the threats he has received against her and her children.
He will triangulate his relationship with her and with other people. He will tell her who is ”˜plotting’ against her. He will tell her who is working with the police to build their case against him and using her and her love for her children as the wedge to destroy him. He will tell her that she is being investigated by child services, that he has men following her to keep her safe and the police have people following her to spy on him and the bad men have people following her to get at him. Wherever she goes there are people following her, taking pictures, watching. And she knows they are there, because sometimes she sees them. Sometimes she is shown pictures. Sometimes, he comments on what she was wearing that day, even when he has told her he wasn’t there. She never knows when someone will be watching. Or not. She never knows.
He will appear emotionally hurt at what he tells her others are doing to turn her against him — and though she will never see or know what others are doing, he will ensure she believes him and is too frightened of her daughters’ safety to risk confronting him or these ”˜others’ about him.
He will tell her about his past lovers and relationships — before his marriage. He will tell her how cold and sterile his marriage was. He will tell her that he has never paid for sex, never used pornography, never been with a woman other than his wife while married — but theirs was an arranged marriage between families — she was an exceptional wife and mother but they had never truly, madly, deeply known love together. And now, with her, he does know true love, and he’ll leave out the mad part but she will feel it. And he will ask her about her experiences — and keep the intimate details stored until a later date when he will use the information to terrorize her.
He will always give her compliments. He has known her through many lifetimes — but this is the first time he has to show her his love. She will come to wish it were the last. She will come to believe that his love will kill her. And she will remain silent.
He will act overly concerned, soft and caring when she speaks to him of her terror of these unseen evil men and her fears for her daughters’ safety. He will tell her not to cry. He will tell her it’s okay to cry. He will take her tears and use them as his weapon, to show her how weak, stupid and ugly she is. How pathetic.
And she will believe him. She is pathetic for not being able to handle the terror. She will try to take her own life and he will laugh at her pitiful attempt to end it.
“You can never leave me,” he will tell her. “I will never let you go.”
And she will grow silent and only say those things that keep him calm, that cause him to applaud her, to appreciate her, to admire her.
Eventually, he will tell her that she reminds him of his mother. He will tell her how sad it makes him that his mother will never know her — for she is the woman she would have loved as her daughter-in-law.
He will create a ”˜husband’ for her. One of the top family men whom no one will mess with — and to ensure no one messes with her. He will show her the wedding invitations, the marriage certificate. He will promise her that he will have the ”˜marriage’ evaporate as soon as he has corrected all the wrongs so that then he can marry her himself — as soon as he has wrought vengeance on those who have tried to harm him. She will never wear the dress. Never walk the aisle. But he will convince her that isn’t necessary. He is doing this all for her. She must trust him. Believe him. She doesn’t. But she never tells him. And she never tells herself of her fears.
He will always take away the evidence and leave her with nothing to show for his promises, his threats, his lies. He will tell her he has signed papers in her name. “It is for your own good,” he will say. And she will remain silent. Sometimes, she’ll wonder where the papers are. But she doesn’t dare look for them. He will be angry if she does. And so, she stays silent and holds onto the darkness he tells her will keep her safe.
He will tell her of the many assassination attempts against him. He will carry a gun and show it to her ”˜accidentally’. She will panic and he will laugh at her and tell her to face the truth, “life is tough and if she wants to keep her children safe, she’d better learn to accept he has a gun.” He will call her in a panic, telling her of the latest assassination attempt, telling her his cousin is dead, but he escaped with only minor wounds. He will call her from the funeral, tears in his voice. Begging her to help him understand why it has to be like this. Why can’t they just leave him alone to love her as she deserves to be loved.
He will keep her on the rollercoaster of his lies and she will keep her eyes tightly shut, missing the exits flying by.
He will make sure she fears for her life, and her daughters’ safety. She will despair that she has brought such terror into their existence, and he will tell her it is his fault, but he will fix it. And then, he’ll blame her for the mess and remind her that only he can fix it.
He will arrange for ”˜things’ to happen to convince her that the evil men are watching, plotting, attempting to kill her or harm her daughters. There will be dead birds on her doorstep, bombs beneath her car. Kidnappers lurking, items missing from her home.
As her terror rises and she become less and less able to function, he will promise to protect her, to take care of her. He will remind her it is all her fault that she is like this and that the beautiful life he was building for her was destroyed. When a police investigator comes to see her about him and she spends five minutes talking to the investigator, he will yell and scream at her that she is stupid, stupid, stupid. When the ”˜other woman’ accosts her in her office, he will scream and yell at her that she should not have gone into the office that day. And he will never explain why there is an investigation, or why the other woman exists. And she will be too frightened to ask.
He will make her change cell phones many times — to foil the evil men from listening to her calls. From tracking where he is and knowing where she is going. But he will always know and make sure she knows he sees her, even when he isn’t there.
He will ensure she knows he is taping her calls by repeating conversations she’s had with others. He will call her from far away places in the middle of the night and accuse her of having another man in her bed. He will accuse her of having at least two affairs. He will accuse her of vile things. He will use every ounce of knowledge he has about her against her. He will use her.
He will ensure she knows he is capable of murder. He will ensure she knows there is no getting away from him. He will ensure she witnesses his ability to harm others, to obtain vengeance. He will build the case to ensure she tries to kill herself and when she fails, he will hold her pinioned in his arms until she becomes the walking dead, alive only through his munificence.
And when he is not there, when he is away, she will sleep with one eye open for he is always lurking, somewhere in the corners of her mind.
I no longer sleep with one eye open. He is not lurking anywhere in the corners of my mind. I have filled my thinking with all that loves and supports me. I have no room for him in my mind today. He is not important. He has no value.He does not count in my life today.
heavenbound,
Thank you for your kind words….I did see your nice response to one of my post yesterday as well…I didn’t mean to over look it. I was just kind of overwhelmed.
xxxx
Witsend,
Oxy basically said it. cops just don’t get it.
I have a police scanner and I overheard some county deputies. One cop said he’s gotten a call from a mother that wanted him to “speak” to her son about obeying her. The cop said there was no way he was going out there, that isn’t his job and she needs to do her job blah blah blah.
Cops don’t get it because they have slack jobs where they get paid the same either way. They get their little adrenalin fix and their power/authority fix and a pay check, but other than that they just sit on their asses. They do one little part: make the arrest. But they have no clue what it’s like to live with and try to survive living with a disordered individual each and every day.
One very common thread about dealing with P’s, is that cops are usually very little help until there’s violence involved.
Keep up the “gray rock” routine, never let ANY OF them see you sweat. You’ll make it through, you have my prayers.
Erin,
I have an idea to get your xP triggered into making the move sooner rather than later.
Somehow, drop the information to him that you are going to be doing some landscaping or construction (adding a deck or something) which your new boyfriend is paying for (just add that for gratuitous envy) and that it’s scheduled to start next week. If the loot is buried within that area, he’ll ramp up his time schedule for grabbing it and you can pounce.
Witsend,
That’s ok, I understand, but thank you for letting me know. I knew you were having a time so no need to worry about my feelings, no need at all! Love, big hugs, and prayer, heavenbound
Oxy,
you know I don’t really care what he is telling the other kids so much as what he is telling their parents! (and of course the school) THAT is what bothers me.
My older son called me and told me that his brother did tell him he was leaving when he turned 17. He of course confided with him where he is going to stay. And where he is planning on staying, bothers me because you would think that this mother would confide in me? And I can’t ask her about it because my oldest son asked me not to break what was told to him in confidence.
She is a very NICE person, and so I am led to believe that she believes “his story”. And this makes me feel uncomfortable. This kid stays at my house at least once a week (on weekends) and of course since this happened he has been here after school and stuff but not spending the night.
I had been in a similar situation with a friend of my older sons many years ago. My son and his friend asked if he could stay for a few days because he was having problems with his dad. I said that it wouldn’t be a PROBLEM as long as it was ok with his mother. And that SHE needed to call me and verify this.
This is just common sense….She did call and said it would be a good idea because it would help defuse the situation at home.
And another time I had another kid stay here (again a friend of my older sons) and his parents were going through a very ugly divorce. He stayed with us during the Christmas break and the holidays.
So I have been on the “other side” of this situation as well. The difference is that these kids didn’t come up with detailed “stories” of abuse. The first kid just said he had a bad argument with his dad. His mother confirmed it. And the second kid, I already knew of the bitter divorce, and when his dad said it was ok to stay here…It was ok with me.
I am grateful that someone is going to take him in. It is better than him running the streets.
And in the big picture of things I know it isn’t the biggest thing on my plate right now.
Sometimes I guess I need to feel validated? And when I am in the middle of all this I feel like I am loosing my grip, in more ways than one.
skylar,
I think that is the reason I have been crying for days. My son spent the night at his friends house both last night and the night before. This is the same kid that usually spends the night here.
So I have had alot of time to think and in the process fall apart.
I have been trying to maintain that cool, calm and collected exterior when on the inside I am crumbing in a million pieces.
Its like I can’t stop crying.
This cop really did TRY do a pretty good job when he was here. I have to give him credit for that. When I try to talk to my son he is impossible to reason with. You KNOW how they twist and turn things and you go around and around.
Well for the first time I witnessed my son in “action” doing this to someone else. (the cop) And as arrogant as cops can be I think this guy took him on as a challenge.
The cop figured he was gonna break him….My son did NOT back down. (this is when hes still playing good cop)
So then he turns around and starts being tough cop. My son still didn’t back down with the “word play”. He did finally agree to not leave until he was 17. And those cops couldn’t get out the door fast enough once he agreed to that.
This ALONE should give this guy a real INSIDE view of what I deal with ALL the time. Only I can’t run out the door like they did.
Dear ML Gallagher,
Thanks for sharing your story. I really admire that you have been able to step out and love after going through all of that you did with your BAD MAN.
I am so stuck. I think you have mentioned before that you found love since this bad experience. My question is, what made you decide to trust? You had to decide to just do it, right?
My story is different than yours but I recoginze the tactics. The Bad Man terrorized me in his own ways.
I don’t date much and I don’t trust. I am working with a therapist because I feel that I have healed as much as I can on my own but I recognize that I am stuck. Mainly, I am stuck on hope… I don’t hope. I refuse to hope. I have been stuck in this hopeless place for a few years now. I refuse to dream of what I want because I can’t bear the pain of another let down. So, I live my hopeless life.. doing what I need to do each day. Going where I need to go. I pour out my love and compassion in my work but I hope for nothing for me.
I am truly sorry if I am sounding like a drama queen but this is very real for me right now. Have you been to this hopeless place? If you have, how did you get out of it? I don’t expect that some man will show up and love me out of here!… for that would be “hoping for love” and like I said, I don’t go there…. at all.
:o(
Aloha….. Elise
Elise:
When I first came to Lovefraud, I remember your posts as being some of the most inspirational to me – sometimes you might not know how much your words have helped me and others here. I’m sad to hear you’re feeling stuck though – on another thread, I mentioned how just hearing that
phrase ‘trust me’ can trigger such a powerful red flag response in me (someone who’s truly trustworthy shouldn’t have to use that phrase anyway.) But maybe you could use that technique we were talking about
awhile back of being more of a spectator to yourself and those feelings of ‘being stuck.”
You’re not being a drama queen, you’re just in your process as we all are – it’s good you’re realizing you need the help of the therapist to work through this hopeless place
you speak of – it’s a small town on the map, not worthy of your moving there, just
passing through and you could just meditate and see yourself ready to get your next
bus or ride out of there, imagine where you want to go. I’m not feeling hopeless lately
but a little leery of making good decisions about actually moving, maybe quitting a decent
but unfulfilling job to do my art but I’m trying to be kind to myself as I watch the struggle
it is to do this.
Sometimes I think I haven’t ‘let’ myself be happy, simply that. Like someone needs to
give me permission – we can give ourselves that and we don’t have to hope for anything.
There’s nothing wrong with hope but it can lead to illusion without action anyway, so the
best thing is just to be alive, feel your pain, start thinking more of little ways to give yourself
pleasure – it seems to me your hope and trust capacity will make themselves known soon
enough. Sending you love and good dreams.
LOL!!! Oh my god, I’m cracking up reading EB’s posts! I went to bed early and have been writing a speech for class all day, I’m just readin and readin…Wow!! So can I assume that Nancy Drew is out digging holes right now with the help of her metal detector!?!?! I can’t wait to see what she finds, the suspense is going to kill me!! Good luck out there NANCY!!
Persephone,
Thanks for your note. I am so happy that anything I wrote helped anyone! So, thank you for that!
I don’t write that much these days. It’s hard to visit and catch all the articles now that I am back in school. But, perhaps it is also where I am in life now… depleted and feeling hopeless. Remember the little sock puppet from the internet era? And remember that super bowl commercial after the dot.com crash? There was little sock doggie, flattened, lifeless, and with car tracks across his white “coat.” I feel like that little sock dog.
I really miss the old me. I was more hopeful and believing in love. I walked through fire for Jeffrey. His tests got harder and harder though. I thought he would eventually see that I meant it when I said I loved him… but as the stories go, he ratcheted up the pain and the emotional beating until I could no longer take it.
I like what you said about my shabby little town called Hopeless. I know I need to leave. I think I am using hopelessness to protect myself from further disappointment and pain. It sure does make it hard to go forward though. My life is moving forward in other ways. But I am feeling like I am a whole lotta love.. wasted. Is this really God’s plan for me? This? I don’t understand.
Anyway, thanks for your encouraging words. I do appreciate them and need it terribly lately. Overall, I am discouraged about men… and who they are. I don’t want to man bash but I am very very disappointed. (Sorry to all your good LF guys.)
No time to bake meatloaf today. I always make Turkey Meatloaf when I am feeling down. For some reason, it helps. :O)