I Don’t Want to Live That Life

By Joyce Alexander, RNP (retired)

Recently I found a book in a “junk book store” that caught my eye. Its title was I Don’t Want to Live This Life, and it was written by Deborah Spungen. The book is about her family trying to raise a “difficult child,” her first daughter, Nancy. Nancy was murdered by her boyfriend, a “rock star” named Sid Vicious, in the 1970s.

Nancy’s birth was problematic with the cord around her neck, and a rare blood disorder caused her to need a total blood exchange transfusion immediately after birth. From the day that she was brought home from the hospital, she screamed and fought her caregivers. By the time she was 14 she was out of control. By the time she was 17, her parents helped her set up an apartment in New York just to get her out of the house so that there could be some sort of peace for themselves and their other children.

Deborah was at the point of suicide at several times, but with much willpower, stayed to fight for the rest of her family and to try to find some way to reach Nancy. She tried to help Nancy get off drugs and out of the sordid life of prostitution and intermittent homelessness.


The book tore at my heart. Deborah and her family suffered terror, pain, confusion and guilt at Nancy’s self made hell-on-earth existence. I read with recognition the confusion Deborah felt in trying to decide how to both protect Nancy and her other children. I too have felt that tearing in trying to give something to one child by depriving the other child of what they also needed from me.

I also identified with Deborah’s frustration that nothing she did seemed to work, so she tried harder to do the same thing. A wise man once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

Deborah and her husband Frank turned to the “experts” in medicine from the time that Nancy was a baby. They prescribed Phenobarbital to quite her screams as an infant. Did that drug as an infant set her up later to require drugs to “self medicate” her pain?

They put Nancy into a mental hospital at one point, and got her into methadone treatment multiple times. Gave her food, but not money, paid her rent, but didn’t give her cash. They did the best they knew how to protect their daughter from herself. It still didn’t help, and she stayed with a man who was as disordered as she was, and who was more violent, even after he had beaten her.

After the murder

After Nancy’s murder, and getting out on bail, Sid Vicious overdosed and died. Either accidentally or on purpose, who knows which? Before he died, he wrote letters and called Nancy’s mother vowing his love for Nancy and wanting to see the family and have them validate his love for Nancy, and to receive solace for her loss from them. I can’t even imagine how Deborah must have felt receiving these letters and calls.

The press hounded the family and after Vicious’ death, his mother even had the gall to call Deborah and want to bury him next to Nancy. The press hounded the family even more. The press vilified Nancy, one headline reading, “Nancy was a Witch!”

Deborah and her family eventually got into therapy and also saw a television show with Bob and Charlotte Hullinger, who were the founders of Parents of Murdered Children, to support other parents who had lost a child through murder. At last, Deborah and Frank and their two surviving children were no longer “alone” in their grief. Deborah and Frank became advocates of the group, forming a chapter in their hometown, and becoming very active in comforting others. No longer feeling the shame of their daughter’s life and her death, but finding new purpose in their own.

Grieving the loss

Anyone who has lived with a person who is disruptive, disorderly, and disordered can relate to Deborah and Frank’s pain in trying to deal with that person. When the person is no longer there, either through death or through no contact, there is a loss there that somehow must be filled.

We grieve over the loss of a person who is part of our “family” no matter what the relationship is, mother, daughter, father, son, lover, spouse, or how we lost them, either through death or no contact. What kind of relationship we had with that disruptive person, the person we cannot please, that we cannot save from themselves doesn’t matter. We grieve. We feel the different stages of grief; the denial, the anger, the bargaining, the sadness, and if we grieve appropriately, we eventually come to a state of acceptance of the loss of the person or the relationship. The deeper the love, the deeper the grief.

Shame about the situation

Sometimes, we also feel like Deborah did, the shame that comes when people in our community learn about the disordered behavior of the one we loved. In Deborah’s case, it was nationally public for her and her family. There was even a sketch on Saturday Night Live about Sid Vicious and Nasty Nancy that popped up when their son David was watching TV with friends. And when their daughter’s professor was doing roll call in class and he got to her name he said “Spurgen, no kin to that nasty Nancy Spungen who was murdered.” Their daughter left the class in shame and tears.

Sometimes, we are involved with the justice system, either the criminal justice system, or the “family courts” where we may be raked over the coals by a system we believed would protect us. Or, others who are closer to us do not believe that the disordered person is the one at fault, but instead blame us, shame us, or desert us, leaving us to feel even more betrayed.

In my own case, for nearly twenty years I felt the shame of my son’s crimes, hid them from my extended family and friends, essentially lied to them when they would ask about where Patrick was living. “Oh, he lives in Texas and works for the State of Texas, and doesn’t get to Arkansas much.” While that is “technically true,” it is deceptive and essentially a lie to cover up my own shame at my son’s failure to be the kind of man he was raised to be.

Some kind of peace

I’m glad that Nancy’s family has finally come to some peace, and that her parents have found a cause that they can focus on to help other families who have violently lost children. For those of us on the “other side of the coin,” though, who are the parents of the murderers, we also have “lost” sons and daughters by the crimes they have committed. While Nancy was indeed a troubled soul, she did not deserve to die violently at the hands of her lover. Her parents suffered in a futile effort, trying to save her from herself, and they suffered again because of her murder.

Like Deborah, I too, do not want to live that life. I do not want to live in self doubt about why my son became what he is, or why he killed Jessica Witt. Though my son still breathes, he is as dead to me as Nancy is to Deborah and her family. As I work on protesting the next parole hearing for Patrick, I have reached out to the group Parents of Murdered Children to assist me with that protest. They have warmly received my request and have put me into contact with people who do understand even my position as the parent of the murderer, and are willing to help me.

While Deborah never gave up on her daughter Nancy, and spent 20 years in trying to deal with a person who was unable to attach normally to a family’s love, now that Nancy is gone, Deborah can move on.

We must disengage

Many former victims of people who are unable to attach normally, such as psychopaths, also spend decades trying to save that person from themselves, and to save themselves from more abuse. There comes a time, though, when we must disengage from those people in order to save ourselves and to save our children from those disordered persons. It isn’t easy. I’m not sure what would have become of Nancy’s family if she had not died that day, but in the end, Nancy’s death may actually have been the salvation of the rest of Nancy’s family because her disruptive presence was removed from the home. Though her family did not want to lose her, they couldn’t save her, but after her loss they were able to save themselves.

I didn’t want to “lose” Patrick either, and I held on to him with denial for many, many years even after Jessica’s murder. It was only his attempt to have me killed that shook me loose from that denial and made me face the truth that he is truly, as my attorney said, “a baaaad man.”

Comment on this article

35 Comments on "I Don’t Want to Live That Life"

Notify of


I am going to look up Sid Vicious as his name is bugging me badly as if I knew him or he’s from here or something.

It must be tremendously difficult to live through a crime committed by our offspring. Heck I am embarrassed if my child doesn’t mind her manners or has a momentary lapse and does something unbelievable. I can only imagine the intensity of the shame. I have attempted to look through the eyes of my spaths parents and have seen them handle their sons without much difficulty but I would bet it’s much more difficult than I know. The big problem is whether or not they’re ready to deal with it,, they know I know.

I would imagine it would be a relief when Nancy died. A friend of mine was murdered. His father was his best friend and told me at the funeral he was relieved. I saw the pain in his eyes when he dared speak that. As an oriental man, the first born son is spoiled. My friend, had gotten into drugs and was just not getting on track no matter what. His deep worry every day and night for his son made his death a relief. I totally understood and he knew that.

When your child is alive, I think it’s much harder to accept our own feelings. I have a similar problem with my parents.

I have the utmost respect for those who put all else aside and admit what they know intelectually and call the duck a duck. It’s a respectable position. I don’t believe any normal parent takes it lightly. I sure do respect it though.

As Donna has said, it does seem, sometimes that our lives are impacted by past lives and we come into this world “preprogrammed” to do the same things over and over.

Poor Nancy began life with a cord around her neck and a needle in her arm. Right out the gate, there was trauma and drama.

Hopefully, we can eventually recognize the patterns we are stuck in and choose a way to get out of it.

Skylar, I wish there was a “like” button here.

I can’t tell from the book whether Nancy’s parents realized that there was TRULY nothing else they could have done to have “saved” her…I am not going to try to make a “diagnosis” on Nancy’s “condition” other than to state the obvious, “she was a substance abuser and she was a troubled person who engaged in self destructive behaviors.”

The man who killed her, a self-styled “rock star” without any talent, I do think was high in psychopathic traits…as evidenced by him calling and writing Nancy’s mother AFTER he killed her. I think Sid’s mother had little understanding of what went on by requesting that Sid be buried beside Nancy! WTF?????? That would like if Patrick died and I called Jessica’s mother and requested that they be buried next to each other???? WTF??? again.

I do know that there are people here on LF who are dealing with their own versions of “Nancy” and even some that are raising “Nancy’s” children and trying to protect those children from “Nancy.”

I think this book would be a good read for those parents with their own versions of “Nancy.” But the reason I wrote about it is so that the identification I had with Nancy’s mother, and though my “Nancy” is not dead physically, he MUST BE dead to me emotionally, and I must DISCONNECT and come to ACCEPTANCE and complete the grief process.

All of us grieve the “loss” of the one we loved, be it child, parent, sibling, friend, lover or spouse who cannot love us back. We must come to acceptance and let go of the shame, which is NOT our shame for what they have done or are doing.

We all want our children to be a good example, to show the world that they are wonderful, smart, good, kind, loving…because we love them, but also because of the accolades that it brings to us for our children to be outstanding. That desire for our children to “Shine,” be it on the sports field or anywhere else…but when they don’t, when they are ultimately “Nancys” we are not “at fault” and we must not feel shame for someone else’s behaviors.

Sky, I do think that there are some children who are almost from birth unable to “bond” to their caregivers no matter what is done for them. Maybe there was some brain damage to Nancy by her birth and the treatment she received shortly after birth for other problems, but whatever it was, apparently she was one of those “unbonded” children. There is no way to say “this caused Nancy’s problems,” or “That caused Nancy’s problems” and it really doesn’t matter, they were problems that could not be fixed even though her parents sought the best available treatments and advice available at the time.

Back years ago when I worked with troubled kids inpatient, I saw some of those kids that at age 8 or 10 were obviously unbonded to anyone, and had that “duping delight” gleam in their eyes. I would not have been able to go to sleep at night with a child like that in the house. I would have been terrified of what they might do in the night “just for fun.” They did, however, usually respond to superior force, but ONLY so long as the force was present and superior, but you knew from the gleam in their eye that you didn’t want to turn your back on them when there was NOT superior force standing by.

My son Patrick was there at that stage by the time puberty hit. He would respond to superior force if it was ON THE SPOT, but once the superior force element was removed, he was right back to his “tricks”—that’s why he does reasonably well in prison, though he tends to break the rules “for fun” he knows that after a stint in Solitary (which he doesn’t seem to mind too badly) he will be right back out into General Population where he can play his games again of “fool the hacks (guards)” and playing games with other convicts. Actually I think prison is the best environment for psychopaths because it gives them so much to keep their minds entertained…there are so many rules for them to break and get away with that they have a continual stream of “duping delight.”

Dear Oxy, everytime I read your story about your son Patric and what you’ve been thru, I’m shocked and I get a pain in my heart of thinking about what you (and others) have gone through. I really can not imagine what it’s like when it comes to your own children or when someone attemts to murder you like your son P. I almost feel grateful that I’ve escaped to easialy than many others here. Many of you who are here, who speak candidly about what you’ve experienced and who have managed to continue with your lives, are a true inspiration.


My “pain” is not and was not any “worse” than other’s pain. I read a book, I’ve mentioned this many times before, called “Man’s Search for Meaning” written by Dr. Viktor Frankl after he spent YEARS in a Nazi prison camp doing slave labor and as I read his book I FELT BADLY for hurting so bad because I HAD NOT LOST NEARLY AS MUCH AS THAT MAN HAD–but then I read a couple of paragraphs that he wrote about PAIN.

In those paragraphs he described pain as “acting like a gas” If you remember your 7th grade science you will recall that a little bit of a gas put into a large container EXPANDS TO TOTALLY FILL IT, and if you put a LOT of a gas into a small container it will compress, but still TOTALLY FILL the container. Pain is the same way.

A baby who drops his passie feels that he has LOST THE ENTIRE WORLD and cries and cries…now WE know that the loss of his passie is NOT THE END OF THE WORLD, but that child FEELS TOTAL PAIN AND LOSS at that moment. So EACH of us feels TOTAL PAIN AT THE LOSSES WE HAVE EXPERIENCED.

EACH of us has the pain that TOTALLY FILLS us whether we lost a child, a parent, a friend or a lover because they were a psychopath. My pain was total, and your pain was total. Neither one was bigger than the other.

I know, I’ve read that book. Sometimes, it just helps to find what I can be greatful for. At least it was only six months, not twenty years and two children later, but I understand your point.


Sid Vicious sounds familiar because he was a bassist for the punk rock group the Sex Pistols. There is actually a movie about his and Nancy’s relationship called, “Sid and Nancy.”

I think it’s too bad that no one is really acknowledging what a tortured soul that Nancy must have been…such a pity. With all that happened to her at birth, I don’t see how SHE had a choice. We know people have choices, but she was damaged and I feel sad about that life she had to lead and then ultimately be murdered. SMH.


Yes, I looked him up. It said on Wikipedia, he got released from jail or prison and was sober and there was a party for him and his mom was kind enough to get him high with some heroin and he died that night!! WTF?!

Thanks MOM! Now maybe we know why she thought they should be buried together. I don’t know if above is true but that’s what it said and then Oxd, said above so………..

Never ending WTF? moments for me lately. Can it be true? Only in the real world…..


I read that, too. Crazy, just crazy.

This article is wonderful, OxD. I vaguely remember Sid Vicious and never knew what the controversy was about until this article.

What a mess….maybe, mom’s “gift” of the heroin party was “her” way to see that good ‘Ole Sid didn’t murder anyone else? Who knows? What an ugly mess.

Sid’s music, if you want to call the noise he and they made “music”–wasn’t anything I was ever interested in though I heard te NAMES at the time, I didn’t pay any attention to them or their lives, so the name was VAGUELY familiar when I picked up the book and started flipping through it at the junk book store (I find all kinds of goodies there!) and so I paid the 50 cents or a dollar and brought it home.. started reading it and couldn’t stop.

I saw the dysfunction in the family (Nancy’s mom and dad enabling her just in order to TRY to buy some “peace”) but of course nothing worked.

I think at lot of the book was written to help Nancy’s mom cope with her “failure” to save Nancy…and I hope that it did that. I don’t see Nancy’s mom as a “failure” because I don’t think there was ANYTHING that could have helped Nancy lead a “normal” life. Was it brain damage at birth, lack of bonding, some form of mental illness, the drugs the doctors gave her to keep her quiet as an infant? The list could go on forever trying to figure out what made Nancy Nancy….but I will venture the opinion that it wasn’t anything her mom did “wrong.” I venture that there WAS NOTHING “right” that could have been done.

Sid “Vicious” was also what he was….an addict, a violent man, a narcissist (“You can’t arrest me I’m a rock star!” LOL) and who knows what other name could be legitimately tacked on to him, but whatever he was he didn’t appear to know how “normal” people think about the person who murders their child. His mother also didn’t seem to “get” what “normal” behavior is when someone murders your child.

To this day I have never made any attempt to contact Jessica’s parents because I am afraid to hurt them more. Maybe I should have sent a letter saying “I”m sorry for what my son did” but I didn’t, and even now when I hope that they are going to protest Patrick’s next parole hearing I am not going to contact them, but have Parents of Murdered Children do so and encourage them to protest his parole that way IF THEY WANT TO. But I could never directly contact her parents….much less ask to bury Patrick next to Jessica. So I guess Sid’s apple didn’t fall far from his mother’s tree.


I think it’s fantastic that you contacted parents of murdered children. I am familiar with that group. It’s a great idea to get some support from all angles.

A tenant at our office was involved with their local chapter. His son was murdered and theydidn’t catch the guy for a long time. Unsolved misteries filmed at our office and ran the show. The guys former girlfriend came forward after years of fear after the second airing. The dad held no ill will toward her and saw her as a victim too. The murderer was a big time attorney who she feared but the show jarred her enough to dare to tell.
The attorney got 5 years for manslaughter saying he was fearing for his life. He gunned down 2 college guys on the side of a road and from what I recall it looked like road rage homicide.

When I saw they caught the guy, I asked the dad if he thought it was the right guy and he said YES. The chief of police had his whole family go to some counselor to prepare them for the killers attitude! I had never heard of this and wasn’t as knowledgeable as today about spath behavior but they took the steps to help the family be prepared for an arrogant arss in the courtroom. The police knew the family would expect to see a sullen man who felt remorse but they prepared them for a remorseless spath. This made such an impression on him he told me about it separately as he was shocked thinking the man was carrying around the guilt.

I read somewhere the only thing a spath fears is getting caught or getting hurt. I also read an old judge or tenured police officer is very discomforting to these guys as they sense they see through them. Watch them in high emotion situations as their act gets distorted, like at a funeral or something.

Glad they’re working with you OxD and hope it helps all around.

Well, I am glad too….last time we had a TON of evidence including information about his breaking the rules in prison, etc. (many times) including having a cell phone and a weapon in his cell, as well as him trying to have me killed, engage in a stock scam and more, this time I have no evidence of any law breaking or rule breaking (but I bet there has been both) as well as NOW Texas prisoners can call out on a monitored telephone line (collect and the cost is like $25 for 3 minutes or some such outrageous amount, and of course the prison system gets a big cut of the cost. Until the last few years there were no phones for prisoners to call out on at all. If you wanted to TALK to your family you had to have them come to visit, and of course with Texas so big and prisoners moved to te farm ends of the state many families couldn’t come. I think the bottom line though is the INCOME from the phones that the prison gets and if a prisoner is not a good boy they can’t call at all so it is the “carrot” method of control.

Patrick has been consistently a “bad boy” though and has engaged in many fights (he as been pretty badly injured in several of them) with his shoulder frequently dislocated, his wrist and ankles severely injured, head slammed into bars, etc. He is a small statured white male so he has learned to fight like a badger….and in fact I have been informed that he will “get up into the face” of a black male that is double his weight and call him the N word and dare the guy to fight him….and simply because Patrick is UNafraid of anything it seems (lack of fear is one of the things about a high level psychopath) that even much larger guys will back down. Of course there is always the chance that there will be one a touch mentally off who will shank him.

Years ago I ran a large farm which had a large group of day laborers who I would go Bail out of jail every monday morning as regular as clock work…most of them were just “drunk and disorderly” or DUI but there were a few hard azz criminals in the group that had done some serious bad time. One guy was a small guy who had a “banty rooster” attitude…and he was always showing an “attitude” and one day he showed the attitude to a 16 year old who put a 12 inch butcher knife in one ear and out the other. (I didn’t witness this, I just heard the details from one of the other guys)

I really wasn’t afraid of these guys (maybe I should have been) though at the time I lived 1 1/2 miles from the nearest neighbors, but they all knew me, knew I was armed and had a stomp azz dog that they were all afraid of. I never had any trouble from them. Actually, when the local city cops would steal things from them at arrest, they would tell me and I would say to the cops, “Give Carl back his X, y or Z” and the cop would reach in to a drawer and say, “Oh, sorry, I forgot I had that.” Yea, right!

I can’t even imagine how it would be to have a child murdered by a pedophile or pervert or some random killing even….in a “way” I can imagine it, but not fully I don’t think. My child died, but by degrees, and like my beloved step father, who died with cancer over 18 monts, when the actual “death” came I was ready to allow him to “go.”

Actually, I wish I COULD FULLY let patrick go, but e is an animated dead man still breathing.

I can relate to the slow death and the animated dead man analogy. My relationshit to the spath had died over the previous 15 years. A very slow and painful death. As his behavior got worse and worse, my love disintegrated, but I couldn’t leave him, I felt obligated to stay out of loyalty. yes, I was too loyal. And I pitied him too.

When I found out what he was, it was as if chains had been removed from me. I was free.

But he is still animated, unfortunately.

I think there are Nancy’s everywhere. Sometime’s death is better than living.


I agree. Tortured souls. Sometimes I feel like that is me.


I can’t remember…does your spath live near you? Just curious.

Another question. How were you able to trust again and find your boyfriend? Again, just curious as I feel like I will never have a man again…

But Louise, you have found some peace I hope? I am like you, I doubt I will ever find a mate but thats ok.. So much of my life has been wasted in the pursuit of finding HIM. I am at the point where I do good to take care of myself, I dont have that desire for HIM anymore..I just desire to love and be loved with no expectations.


Oh, yeah…I have found some peace.

There just seems to be so few men I am compatible with and I don’t know why. I guess I am just a different bird.

I’m not sure where the spath is. I know he keeps tabs on me through a network of minions, in the neighborhood, in my family, everywhere. He was doing that 28 years ago and he’s still doing it now.

As far as trust. Such a good question. No I didn’t trust my BF. I trusted myself to be a good judge of character and every time I make a judgement call it turns out to be spot on. But the only way to learn is to get back on that horse and see if you can do it. Watch the red flags, make the call and then continue to observe and learn. We can’t learn by hiding.

With my BF, it wasn’t that hard though. He has asperger’s so all of his PD’s were glaring. He can’t hide anything, though he tries.

Do you know about the classic liar’s tell that says if someone tugs on their ear, they are lying? He does that and his ears turn bright red. lol. It’s very refreshing after being with the uber spath with the perfect mask.


I like that…you didn’t trust BF…you trusted yourself.

Haha, that is funny about the ear tugging! Yep, he puts it all out there…no mask with him! 🙂

OxD, I identify with the desire to contact Jessica’s parents and the subsequent decision not to.

When I hear the news or read news accounts of children being murdered, the first thing that I try to imagine is how the parents of the victim must feel – it’s a loss that I cannot comprehend. Then, I grieve for the parents of the murderer. That is something that I cannot comprehend, either. No mother or father looks at their newborn infant and says, “I sure hope he/she grows up to be a killer.” No parent would ever want to endure the slings and arrows as a result of their offspring’s actions, and I cannot imagine this kind of destruction, on any level.

My eldest son simply doesn’t exist, anymore. I love the beautiful infant and child he was – I still have those memories of an extraordinarily beautiful little boy to carry with me. I don’t know the man that he became, and I don’t want to know him.

I did speak to my son’s first wife, several years ago, after their divorce. I expressed my sorrow for her experiences and that I was so sorry that she had been victimized. But, that’s as far as it went.

My youngest son is still trauma-bound with his brother and I can clearly see the manipulations, withold/reward, and the peripheral damages of this contact. I also know that I don’t have control over this. There may come a point when Mike recognizes just how toxic his brother truly is, and break the bonds. But, for now, I let any words about his brother travel through the air and treat them as the rush of the wind. I don’t want to know about his brother. I don’t want to know what his brother thinks, believes, does, or says. For all intents and purposes, his brother does not exist.

Yes, it’s sad. But, it’s necessary. And, I don’t have to “like” it.

Truthspeak, having that good memory of the child who is now “gone” is sort of like remembering that cute little kitten that was so sweet, but getting rid of the cat that scratches and sprays the furniture and shaits in the floor.

All kittens and babies grow up in to adults. Sometimes the adults are functional and good and sometimes they aren’t.

Letting go of the older son, who is now, essentially an animated corpse as far as you are concerned…yet he still HAUNTS you by interacting with your younger son.

Did you ever see the TV show “twilight zone” with Rod Serling?

There was an episode called “the monkey’s paw” and a woman got a monkey’s paw that would grant 3 wishes.

Her first wish was for $10,000 (a lot of money in the 50s when this show as made) and she GOT the money when her son died and she got his INSURANCE MONEY.

Her second wish was that her son was ALIVE AGAIN…well he clawed his way out of his grave in a putrid state of decomp and came to her door.

Her third wish was that he was back in his grave.

As bad as it may sound I wish I had a monkey’s paw. I wish I could change places with Jessica’s parents. Actually I wished that at the time I found out about the murder, because the community, the cops, their friends came to console them, but no one came to console me. I locked myself inside my house for 3 months and cried, didn’t answer the door, screamed, didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and no one came with a caserole dish or came to a wake to sit with me so I could bury my son. My son was “alive” but lost to himself and to me…but finally, I have been able to bury him, to let him go, now if I just had the monkey’s paw to put the corpse where it belongs I might be okay.

OxD, hugs to you, dear one. I cannot imagine your grieving, especially since the community took out their anger on you. That’s what I was trying to relate, I guess – I cannot imagine losing a child to murder. But, I think that being the parent of the killer has to be a worse pain – a far different pain than anyone that hasn’t experienced it can’t put into words.

All I can say is that you’re one hell of an inspiration, OxD. You could have gone another way with your experiences, and it would have been much easier and less painful. Instead, you faced it all down, called it a spade, and now your experiences inspire the rest of us to fight every day for our own recovery.

Brightest and most sincere blessings

((((((Oxy))))))) It’s always so sad to see the loss of life, on either side of the coin….when you see a young person who is full of potential throw it away, and you know that their life is basically over….And yes, they are loved by someone, and someone has to grieve for them, and then someone has to let them go, and move on.
I wish I would have been there Ox. I would have made you a chicken pot pie.


The kitten to the cat anology is another good one!! Have a female CAT over here who was born in my living room by a feral cat who picked US. She had 5 kitten. Oh so cute while kittens. Now I have 2 from the litter and the female is the cutest of all. Middle child who I called Hudini since she escaped first and from the craziest places. It’s always the CUTE ones who are suspects with me. Low and behold, she’s the shredder and the pisser! Declawed, fixed and let outside now since she can’t stop marking everything of my daughters. I have struggled with keeping her but this is her last shot…………

Eralyn, I had a cat once, the most beautiful cat I ever owned. His name was Chairman Meow! He was awesome, but he NEVER EVER EVEN ONCE shat in the cat box, even as a kitten when I kept him in the bathhroom with the box…his chosen place was behind my upright piano….sooooo, outside with you boy-o! Well he would wait until one of thhe kids opened the door and he would scoot iin under their feet from outside, go directly to the paino, go behind it and shiat!

This went on and on and on and finally I told the kids “the next time you let Chairman in YOU clean it up..

Well there came a day when the kids and I decided that Chairman HAD TO GO and I told them that I would put him down that afternoon when I got in from work. Not a tear from these kids who buried every bug they had that died with tears and gnashing of teeth.

Well, that afternoon I came home and Chairman must have known his hours were numbered, because he had committed suicide by car in front of the house. NOT A TEAR from the kids, and not a tear from me. Problem solved.

I thought the heading on your post Joyce, to be quite the
appropriate place to share my immense gratification in
announcing that six months today was the last word I
ever uttered to “IT”.

HALLELJUAH! The saga is just about over.
The stalking didn’t ‘officially’ cease
until 1Aug and there were a couple ‘sightings’
in the area, however, things have been pretty
much quiet and I keep waiting for the other shoe
to drop, like skylar says.

Hopefully there won’t be any other shoe dropping.
My x ppath used to murder peoples cats for punishment.
Because he couldn’t control his 12 year old ADHD temper.
He found it amusing. Yes, I said: AMUSING.
He loved telling me about how he strangled the
life out of them and then would place them in a
prominent place and wait for the owner to find it.

What a better way to hurt someone ??
Take something that you love; right?
It’s easier than taking YOU: less trouble.

If they will murder a cat, they will murder anything.
I do NOT trust a person twice, NOT EVER AGAIN,
who has already threatened to murder me, in very
colorful ways, on a great many occasions.
Endless proof of intent. Just endless.

If I had done something to DESERVE this, that would be
one thing, but I never have. It is a mental illness; a sickness.
And, I AM sorry for “IT” but how much do you sacrifice?

I have sacrificed enough.
This is MY LIFE.

Six months today since I have uttered a peep.
And I have found comfort and healing and soothing
in the peace and quiet. I am never going back to that.
I would die first.


It’s always the cute ones!

Sounds like it was time and you got out of the actual act.

I’m phasing her out a bit but it does seem she’s using the outdoor dirt. Yippee…. Found a dead kitten in my front yard today. Apparently it had been there a while. My daughter thought it was the landscape and said she saw it a week ago.

Think if “IT” had to wait that long! HAHA.

Psycho spath put dead cats in my front yard. They weren’t mine but I know it was him. He was dating a witchcraft practicing stripper so they probably did a little dance out there and some drugs.

I was driving my daughter to daycare pulling out of the driveway and she said “Mommy kitty sleeping” and I see two with mouth and eyes wide open, cats in my yard. I didn’t want to come home after dropping her off. The city said they would charge me to get rid of them unless I dragged them to the road. hhmm what to do? The neighbor!

I should probably spread some holy water or something around here.

Congratulations, Dupey! I didn’t realize that it has been 6 months now….my how time flies when you are having fun! LOL

Thanks Ox!
Yah, what a time it’s been, let me tell ya.

So, I just start bragging a bit about how quiet it has been
and such and bam! – cyber stalking began again on the six
month anniversary date of my NC; imagine that. hahahaha

ERALYN: during the full blown height of all this for me,
I used to stop at the local Catholic Church and go in
when nobody was there and literally SPLASH that
Holy Water all over me as much as I possibly could.
I do not exaggerate, not one bit.

I used to chuckle to myself, being there on my knees,
at the altar: “I would take a bath in it if I could…” The
priest probably would have freaked out if he came into
the church and there I was, bathing in HOLY WATER!!!!

Yah, dead cats was “IT’s” thing….

“I thought of you today…as I strangled that cat and
watched it’s life slipping away until it’s little tongue
stuck out… it felt good having my hands around its
neck, choking it and choking it….”

Yah, wonder how many poor and innocent cats he has killed like that in his lifetime? Hm?
He hasn’t left a dead cat on my porch yet — he has left other CREEPY little ‘gifts’ on my doorstep,
from time to time though. Just really weird. COMPLETELY psycho, I tell ya. A very dangerous type person.

Of course there would be a cyber stalking on the anniversary
date. hahahahaha “IT” is so predictable sometimes. I think
part of the shock of all this is that I know he is very sick and
I was just ignoring it because I was trying to ‘reach him’. In
the process, he almost killed ME. I KNEW I should have just
ignored him almost 13 years ago. No. Instead I had to try
being the savior. Tried to be the nice person…the helping
person. I don’t even really LIKE this being, actually…

That won’t ever be allowed back into my life.
Never again. I am sorry for him and his illness.
I can’t save him. He has to save himself, just like I have to.
Just like we all have to.

Hope things are well Ox…
Take care and thanks again.

Dupey, wonderful, dear heart!!!! Six months may not seem all that long, but it’s one HECK of an accomplishment! Congratulations and TOWANDA!!!

What we “knew” and what we chose to do doesn’t really matter, once it’s in the past, right? Just like my desire to nurture, encourage, and support someone who had been neglected goes, the exspath did endure a very dysfunctional childhood, but I’m not responsible for “fixing” that. Nor am I responsible for “fixing” anyone’s issues.

I believe that it’s “okay” to feel “pity” for someone who fits the profile of a sociopath – it’s a pitiful existence. Those people don’t really experience life, at all. They just exist. And, the only “feelings” that they DO experience are envy, greed, and the anticipation of end results.

Congratulations, Dupey. And you DO have some pretty strong “sea legs.”

Hugs and brightest blessings!

OxD, the exspath didn’t shed a tear when each of my parents passed. Whether I had known someone’s parent, or not, I would shed a tear for THEIR loss and the sadness that THEY must have felt – I still do get choked up when other people lose loved ones or their pets.

But, exspath never shed a single tear for their passings, or for the grief of my family. Not one single tear. And, no expression of sadness, whatsoever. I guess he didn’t have any reason to feel sad when there was money in the future as a result of their deaths.

Jeeeeeezuz, it’s so unseemly that people sit and rub their hands together and look about them to see who’s dying next and is leaving them money.

Thanks Truthspeak for the shoulder pat! lol
Well, the LAST and previous period of NC lasted
almost 9 months. Like I have said before, this is the

It has been very difficult.
Somewhere in between feeling bad
and hating his fricking guts. Know what I mean?

No, it all doesn’t really matter once you put it in the past.
Once you are all finished grieving and you finally realize
that all of your emotions, your soul, your life, has finally
had enough. It took almost losing my life to figure out
that I don’t want to live like that and I am not going to.

Hey, the ‘dysfunctional childhood’ excuse can only be that
for so long, the way I got it figured. “I” had an extremely
dysfunctional childhood but I stood up to that and CHOSE
something different for myself and my life. If anyone has
THE PROPENSITY to be a psychopath, it would certainly be
me after all of the abuse, trauma and nightmares I have seen.

We can only blame our upbringing and our parents for so long
and then at some point we must take responsibility for ourselves
and our own choices and actions. I don’t buy it that they can’t
change. If I were to believe that, I would have to give up
believing in myself. Period.

I do feel ‘pity’ for it. I think that is the one thing that
has made this all so hard for me. I noticed the dysfunction,
right in the beginning, and I was heartbroken right from the
very beginning. I will be very heartbroken about this, the
rest of my life, because I couldn’t save my friend. Or, what
I THOUGHT was my friend.

It still makes me sob and cry, sometimes.
He won’t even TRY to save himself.

No, they don’t really ‘experience’ life.
They never will because they are too busy
trying to scam someone out of something
for some reason. They completely miss the
whole big picture; don’t they? Plastic people,
living their selfish, greedy, self-centered lives.

Thanks, ((Truthspeak))
aye, matey —- arrrrrrrrrrrgh!!!!!

Six YEARS sounds better than six months; don’t it?
I was thinking today that I can’t wait to say THAT instead.


Send this to a friend