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LETTERS TO LOVE FRAUD: When life ain’t fair

Editor’s Note: Lovefraud received the following email from a reader called “Adelade.” Her previous post is “This is the time for me to learn who I am.”

I’m having a really tough time, these days. The divorce hearing is coming down to the wire, and I am very fearful that the sociopath ex-husband is going to walk away from his crimes, unscathed.

Last week, I had a discussion with someone whose husband is an attorney. She works in his office whenever she can to help him with his busy practice. We were discussing the facts of my divorce, and she said several things that caused a mild onset of anxiety, but I began to cogitate about the US and State legal systems that have not been overhauled in 200 years. This woman was so compassionate about my situation, but also for those who are suffering through no fault of their own. Yet, her observations on our Legal System were alarming and absolutely factual.

I’m also in a space where I am looking at a loss of health benefits and I have a medical condition that requires close and constant medical supervision. Like most victims and survivors of domestic violence and abuse (OR, sociopath exposure), I have an auto-immune disease and I’m having a difficult time managing it. What am I going to do about my health needs once the divorce is final and I won’t have his benefits to rely upon, anymore? How the heck am I going to afford health care, at all?

How is it that I even continue living and fighting to get myself through this? I have moments (sometimes, several a day) when closing my eyes and just not waking up seems reasonable and almost inviting. To just end this looping emotional turmoil and physical struggle just seems to be the best option available. No, I’m not suicidal in the sense that I would actively end my own life. But, not wanting to live is a visceral, real feeling, sometimes.

Discovery

Several months ago, the marriage ended when I discovered what my spouse truly was. The moment that I made this discovery, I knew that there would be no mending of this union – one cannot live a sexually deviant double-life for over 15 years and expect their partner to give them “another chance” to make it right. They just can’t. Of course, they DO, but it’s outrageous that they would. Once trust is shattered, it cannot be put back together, again, in any form resembling what had previously existed. And, the “worm” was aware that I would never tolerate deception, violence, or infidelities, under any circumstances, yet he hid vile aspects of his interests from everyone, even before we ever met.

Subsequent to the end of our marriage, I discovered exactly how much of a sociopath the “worm” truly was. He had relieved me of over $250K through manipulations and outright forgeries. The forgeries, alone, amount to a Federal crime, and the “worm” looks to be walking away from his crimes without facing anything more severe than having a Family Court Judge wag his finger in his face and tell him what a naughty boy he is to have done something so heinous.

No easy way

Factor these ingredients into the roiling emotional cauldron of Sociopathy Stew, and it’s no wonder that I sometimes wish to just cease to breathe. We all feel this way, at some point during our post-sociopath experiences. I’m in the midst of an emotional de-briefing that is often too much to manage, and there’s no way to get around it. There’s no shortcut to healing. There is certainly no Magic Pill that will teleport me to the other side of this living hell. There are few people (outside of LF and counseling therapy) who are able to “get it” and will tolerate my rants, raves, fears, self-pity, and despair with understanding, support, and encouragement. There is no easy way to get through these experiences. There just isn’t. And, dammit, I am angry about that, as well – WHY is this pain, defeat, and despair so daggoned complete?

Well, it just is, that’s all. I am only human. I am not omniscient. I am not clairvoyant. I do not have the ability to direct other people’s actions and decisions. I do not know everything. I do not have the answers for everything. I do not have the ability to exact true Justice where it needs to go. I do not have control over the past OR the future. I am not a god, demi-god, or even a Priestess. I am a simple human being experiencing an ugly aspect of the Human Condition, and I have got to get over myself and my self-pity, yesterday.

Recognizing my helplessness where “woulda, shoulda, coulda” is concerned may be academic, but I just need to connect the facts with how I feel. The only way for me to do that is to feel the pain on a physical level – you know, that kind of crying that actually makes your chest hurt and your breath stop? I need to feel that anger on a physical level – screaming, punching a pillow, breaking things, or something. I’m afraid to feel these things because I’m afraid that the physical pain and exertion is going to cause a heart attack. I’m afraid to let these feelings go on a physical level because I’m afraid that I’ll cause hemorrhaging in my eyes if I scream the way that I need to and really WANT to. I’m afraid that if I let go of these feelings, I won’t be coming back.

Punch my way through

What’s the solution to this? To simply stop breathing would make all of this just end. Quietly. Without any fanfare, tantrums, or unrealistic fears. But, I don’t believe that rolling over and giving up is what I’m supposed to do in this lifetime. For whatever reason, I’ve experienced these things and I have to punch my way through all of these experiences, from childhood to the present, and “do something” productive. I don’t know what it is, yet, but I have to believe that there is a reason for all things. And, I hate having had these experiences more than I can begin to articulate. I hate it. But, Life ain’t Fair, and that’s the truth of the matter. Getting on with the process of living – not simply existing, but truly living – is a moral imperative. If for no other reason, I want to see my way through this so that I can glimpse what it is that I am supposed to have accomplished. Maybe, I will have the opportunity to see whatever it is completed. But, whatever it is, I have to make my opportunities happen instead of waiting for them to drop out of the sky, or for other people to present me with them.

I have learned one valuable thing, so far, and that is that I cannot, should not, and will not rely upon other people to push me in the right direction, ever again. I will not rely upon someone else to make me feel complete, approved of, accepted, or valuable. I am complete. I approve of myself AND my myriad mistakes. I accept myself. I am valuable. And, I can push, shove, and claw my way through this and get through the other side of Hell in very good order with some very valuable knowledge.

Thank you all at LoveFraud.com. Thank you for your honesty, candid recollections, priceless insight, and precious support and encouragement. Thank you, Donna Andersen, for turning something horrible into something wonderful – for NOT laying down and giving up and being an inspiration to me to push through this terrible angst.



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32 Comments on "LETTERS TO LOVE FRAUD: When life ain’t fair"

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Thank you so much for this most accurate, honest, encouraging and hopeful article…
One of many frustrations I have in living in a world filled with Spaths and P’s is not having legal recourse for their financial cons let alone all the mental and emotional anguish they have inflicted upon their victims. I am so angry and I dont understand why the court system doesnt do more to educate those in the legal field and even more so, the judges so new laws can be written, new criteria, mandatory psychological testing(not that this would always prove truth, because they can fool so many)…the P’s get away with making us look crazy for many reasons, but the fact that he was always so calm and collective always should be a huge sign for the judge to realize something is not right here!
It is a gift though to know, that you become your own bestfriend in life and rely on selflove and selfrespect and stand strong for yourself…Also, a safe place like LF for the evolved human who has seen and experienced first hand the disordered individual and has a place to express themselves as surely this experience will remain with us for life. We can only hope to forewarn and teach our children of what REAL evil lurks in the world. With all the severe physical and emotional pain and the daily wish for death, the fact that I crawled by the tips of my fingers out of the black hole, I have infact found a silver lining in this experience..My heart has actually found the real meaning of love and compassion rather than neediness and approval seeking…I have such a strong respect for all the writers on LF…amazing strength is found here..thank you so much again for another great article.

Dear Adelade,

Thank you for such an inspiring post. I admire your honest assessment of your situation.

I strongly related to, “No, I’m not suicidal in the sense that I would actively end my own life. But, not wanting to live is a visceral, real feeling, sometimes.”

I’ve felt that way many times. I think I got there because I was unaware that there were other ways of dealing with things. I kept dead-ending (no pun intended) at the point of “what else is there?”

What kept me going is seeing all the happy and productive people around me. I knew that everybody has problems so I concluded that they had found routes that I had yet to discover.

Did you grow up in this kind of environment? I ask because it seems logical that if this is all we know, if that’s how we spent our formative years, then identifying alternatives would be daunting.

I see your statement, “I cannot, should not, and will not rely upon other people to push me in the right direction,” as the key dynamic our families of origin implanted in us. They know what’s right, we don’t. They have all the answers and solutions. Us? We’re stupid. To this day, I can hear my S mother sneering, “What? You mean you don’t know?”

All parents are supposed to help and guide their children, that’s natural and even to be expected, but in my family of origin, they went to extremes with these. They became the rulers of my life. They never informed me that people go through life mapless and that many of us simply cross our fingers and hope for the best.

I honestly thought that everybody else on the planet had gotten a manual at birth that told them how to live life. Mine must have gotten lost in the mail.

The more my P sister and my S mother pushed, the harder it became for me to survive.

Thank God I had a child to protect and raise. As tempting as it might have been sometimes to simply exit and see what the next life would bring, I refused to leave him defenseless against them. Not this mama.

I was not throwing that beautiful boy to those wolves. Kick me in the face when I was down and bloodied, but God as my witness, they were not going to sink their claws into that child.

I had a therapist who picked up on this. She kept wondering why I was so good at standing up for him, but why I wasn’t doing more of that for me. Initially, I thought that was because it would have been a wasted effort. What good would it have done?

Eventually, though, I realized that my focus was wrong. I was stuck in a mode of convincing them, getting them to see my point of view. I thought I was being reasonable and fair. When I battled with them, I still played fair.

I didn’t know back then what I was truly dealing with and I certainly had no clue what a psychopath was beyond being a serial killer and rapist. These people simply were not that (although they were on a soul level. They definitely were on a soul level.)

Once I learned about psychopathy, and once I learned that my treatment by them and the courts was pretty much the norm, then I could put me into perspective. That’s when the switch happened. That is when I got really angry and finally stood up for myself.

I no longer sought to reason with anybody. I no longer felt I had to explain. I KNEW that I had value. I KNEW that I mattered and if people didn’t get that, then they had the problem, not me.

I wasn’t obligated to convince anybody. What I am and what I felt entitled to are simple basic rights that we all have as humans.

As for getting through Hell in good order, know what my son’s nickname is for my P sister? Satan’s daughter. We even have a box of papers related to her in the attic with that written on the outside.

I almost forgot – I would appreciate hearing what that woman said about the legal system not having been overhauled in the last 200 years. We seem to be all in agreement that it’s time to do that.

I cried so long and hard one night from the anger and pain that the next morning I started suffering cardiac arrest. I ended up having my heart shocked twice and then heart surgery to repair a problem I was born with-Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome- but the cardiac arrest was brought on by extreme stress.

This was 18 months after the spath was gone and 18 months before I actually learned he was a spath.

I busted blood vessels and accidentally sliced my fingers crushing the things that reminded me of him with a hammer and from screaming like a crazy woman.

I wasn’t suicidal either, but I wanted to go in a como and wake up without a memory. I would have gladly traded all my good family memories for never having known that barfbag. I wished I could trade places with other people and live their unsuffering lives. I prayed that I would learn of his death and get that final closure so I could move on. I probably had every thought, every emotion, every feeling, revelation, realization and physical pain a person could have from living through a tragedy.

As horrible and hopeless as it all was, I see now how necessary it was for my healing. It’s been over 3 years no contact and I’m still in the middle of my healing. It will be years longer I’m sure, but I’m willing and ready to take this journey. I don’t imagine how I will be at recovery, although I know I will be better then ever- new and improved.

You must continue. You must feel all this pain in order to heal. You will get to a point when you get over the hump and it becomes more clear what you were meant to be here in this world for.

God be with you.

Adelade,

“roiling emotional cauldron of Sociopathy Stew,” I laughed until I cried, THAT IS WHAT IT IS!!!!! a roiling emotional cauldron!!!! Great analogy.

The quote below from your article is what I have had to try to TEACH MYSELF and to preach here at LF and I agree 110%

“I will not rely upon someone else to make me feel complete, approved of, accepted, or valuable. I am complete. I approve of myself AND my myriad mistakes. I accept myself. I am valuable. And, I can push, shove, and claw my way through this and get through the other side of Hell in very good order with some very valuable knowledge.”

Thank you for a great article! I think you summed up exactly what we have all felt in going through this life, which definitely ain’t fair, but it’s all we’ve got! Good job!

Can you keep COBRA for 18 months? Is your disability severe enough to qualify you for social security disability? If so or if you even think it is, get an attorney who specializes in that and get him to advise you from the start. The way the fee schedule is set up they have a limit of about $5,000 or a percentage of your back pay, whichever is less. It is actually to their benefit for you to not get your determination for two years, so make sure you get an honest one. In any case, in two years after you file, you will be eligible for medicare.

Keep in mind too, that MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL DISABILITIES like PTSD from the divorce/marriage etc. are also qualifiers for disability. Sometimes Social Security will actually be more likely to approve a disability for mental/emotional problems than for even grave physical ones. I’ve had patients with terrible physical problems and they were repeatedly denied. When we stressed the emotional problems with the physical disability they were approved. So keep that in mind when you apply and stress the STRESS and other problems caused by it all.

Good luck and keep on truckin’!

The Aftermath

Having a sociopath/psychopath a part of your life for many years has a way of changing you and making you almost become that which we end up disliking so much about them. Although we may try to fight it off and forsake it, the longer we are subjected to the abuse, the less and less we notice it until it has overtaken the very soul of ourselves.

Life after a sociopath/psychopath is more than just ‘readjusting’ to what’s left. It sends us on a path that only leads back to ourselves, although they certainly don’t deserve any normal sort of credit for the success of our journey, it was their ugliness and unacceptability in their words, their actions and their lack of remorse and caring that pushed us to the point where we had to come to believe in ourselves.
Really, when you stop to think about it, the whole journey has lead us right back to ourselves, where we were before this experience came into our world.

For those of you who know me, you have walked with me and been here, listening, supporting and encouraging me, you can tell I have found what I was looking for. I was searching for ‘peace’ with all of this so I can live what is left of my life in as much enjoyment of the gift we have been given as is humanly possible.

It was my stalker for the last ten years that played me as if I were an instrument in an orchestra. I am not ashamed to stand up and admit that. But I did so from the goodness of my heart out of nothing but love and affection, all the while, being mocked and learned so that when the knives were stabbed in, they actually made an impact. The wounds have almost healed over now and I have found more important things to concern myself with. One being my eternity. This type of ugliness has no place in what is left of the gift I have been given.

I have learned what evil is.
And I am writing this right now to tell you that if we stay with the pain, it will become a part of us. If we keep searching for all those beautiful reasons that life gives us to help us hang on, we’ll find them. We become that which is around us.

Wishes of peace and prayers of blessings,

Dupey

“I am very fearful that the sociopath ex-husband is going to walk away from his crimes, unscathed”.

This is a justifiable fear, I’m afraid.

My sociopath ex-husband, I learned too late, had been having sex with my daughter since she was at least 15. By the time I learned about it, I had left him. Of course he had her completely on “his side” by then. To her, I was the evil mother that wanted her to finish high school and go to college and he was the “loving one that was only interested in what SHE wanted”.

My sons, who witnessed them together (sexually) while I was working were “too young” to make reliable witnesses. My daughter was “not cooperating” with authorities.

My daughter still lives with him. It’s a loss that I fear I will never recover from. I think of her every single day. She will be 21 this year … and she is living with her “dad” or her “lover” … whichever way she chooses to look at it these days.

I’ve had no contact with her since 2009 … and it has been a struggle to overcome the loss and injustice.

Stay strong! I pray that your sociopath, and ALL sociopaths are somehow brought to justice in a system that fails so miserably.

Dear too late,

I am sorry that you had such a loss, losing a man/woman you loved is bad enough but to have the child of your heart also be swept into the web of the “sociopathic stew” as another poster here said this morning. WOW!

Welcome to LoveFraud, I’m really sorry you qualify for “membership” in our club but glad you found us. There’s a lot of support here because we get it. again, welcome, and God bless.

Adalade,
what has kept me going was remembering the many times when the spath tried to screw me over and I ended up gaining from it.

When he was poisoning me so I couldn’t work, I learned about nutrition and supplements and holistic healing.

Not being able to work, I learned to stretch a penny like you wouldn’t believe. One time the spath said, “you don’t pay for anything do you?” He was trying every angle to put me deeply into debt. breaking things, losing things, doing everything he could so I’d have to spend money replacing stuff. I used warranties. Got things for free. I used coupons and rebates and bargains.

Yes, I would have preferred to work and have a career, using my talents for something more than chopping wood and bargain hunting, but that’s what I did and I did it so well that he envied even that.

You can say, “life ain’t fair”, if you like. Or you might try, “life is what you make of it.” Whatever you decide to do, even if it’s only bargain hunting or chopping wood, do it better than anyone else. Do it because it pisses off the spaths. Believe me, it does.

Please don’t think I’m thrilled with my position. Most of those days when I was struggling, I was waking up just like you, angry at God that he didn’t take me in my sleep. I didn’t want it anymore. Sometimes, still, I don’t want this. I didn’t sign up for this. It feels so not fair. But like God told Job, “what do you know about fair? Did you build the universe? I’ll decide what’s fair” And God always does.

Yep, it’s up to God to punish them, it’s up to us to arrange the meeting. that was a joke, I think?

KARMA LIVES AND BREATHES.

Hens! LOLOLOLOL

A joke? where?

oh yes, the spath is a joke. On himself.

After I had figured out that there were several evil creatures on the water association board, I had to attend a meeting with them.

There was another evil witch who was threatening to sue the water association just to make me miserable, but they were ALL involved with my spath. I had figured out that they were working together, but I had not figured out my spath’s involvement because I knew nothing about spaths.

So, at the meeting, I said, “J-spath, you know, little-witch-spath is only threatening to sue because she hates me. She doesn’t even care about the money. Can you imagine how pathetic someone like that is? Can you imagine having such a tiny life that you would allow it to revolve around someone you hate? How sad is that?”

J-spath just stared at me with glassy eyes. She knew I was not only talking about little-witch-spath. She knew I was talking about her. So she just sat there. lol.

Then the other spath in the meeting, old fat spath bitch, just nodded and said, “oh yes, I think somebody needs a hobby.” lol.

She was keeping her mask on really firm. But I knew they were all sick creatures working together to discredit me. I just didn’t know why: MY SPATH. THEY WERE HIS MINIONS.

Who could’ve guessed? not in a million years. his mask was on really good. he was hugging me and saying, ” I LOVE YOU!!!”

sicko.

Hens,

SNORT! I am there with ya.

Sky ~ “Old Fat Spath Bitch” hahahahahaha – I love it.

“roiling emotional cauldron of Sociopathy Stew”

I see witches and the Devil dancing around this cauldron in glee.

Oh Milo,
if you could only SEE these people. Oh my!
The little spath witch actually says she’s a “white witch”. She wears a silver pentagram around her neck. And I wear a gold cross around mine. LOL!

And guess what? She was adopted. She found her real mom a few years ago and was disgusted. Her real mom was a meth addict loser.

Interestingly… Oh my, I just made a connection…
as I’m typing.

Interestingly, she told me that when she met her husband he was a meth addict. She enthralled him but she is ambitious and didn’t want a meth addict husband, so she gave him a choice: clean up and be with me or be gone. He cleaned up. Now they both smoke pot.

I wonder if she was attracted to him because he is like her mom, a meth addict. Even though she herself isn’t one and she never “met” her mom until recently, maybe she has memories from the womb.

?

Sky ~ I think you met my daughter !!!

Trust me, you paint such an outstanding verbal image, I feel like I was in the meeting.

Where can I go to wipe off all this slime?

skylar:

Wow, great connection there! Yes, I feel there is definitely some type of memories from the womb so to speak…

A good rapper could have a field day with “old fat spath bitch.”

ROTFLMAO!
Milo, did you imagine old fat spath bitch as a toad with long white hair? Cuz that is EXACTLY what she looks like. She tries to look grandmotherly, but all I see is a toad and she’s got a voice to match.

Louise,
It is conjecture but she was in that womb for 9 months, so it must feel “familar” to her.

G1S, you’re killing me!
it’s now up to you to write the rap song. don’t forget the croaking part.
LOL!

Oh, thanks Sky, now the slime has given me warts.

😆

MiLo, that’s too funny.

What’s with all of the dreams, lately?

Here’s what I can remember:
* babies and toddlers mildly smelling of urine
* being a passenger in the repossessed vehicle with nobody at the wheel – vehicle going VERY fast and me grabbing the wheel to steer it away from people and into a wall – heavy damage on the driver’s side and me thinking that the car will NEVER sell with that damage
* crying so hard that it was painful
* meeting with the exspath’s BDSM playmate – her very young and obviously taken by the exspath – my telling her that she could HAVE him – her telling me that he made her feel so important – me asking if they were getting married a week after the divorce was final

There is very heavy symbolism in these snippets – all in one sleep. I’m having more and more of these upsetting and symbolic dreams, and I awaken with a sense of panic, sadness, and despair and I am having a hard time shaking these feelings throughout the day.

I’m sure that this is “normal,” but I would sincerely appreciate any insight as to different ways to manage this.

Brightest blessings

I just noticed that I’m posting quite a bit this morning. A bit stressed out and triggered, so I apologize for the myriad posts.

Symbolism of babies and toddlers in dreams: they represent the “innocent” part of you… soiled babies and toddlers therefore implicate “soiled innocence”

Symbolism of cars: cars and roads are about YOUR road in life. If you are in the passenger seat, you let someone else have control over you. You say there’s nobody at the wheel, no driver really. So, even though there is noone doing the controlling over you, you let your life be controlled by a ghost and still see yourself rather as a passenger on your liferoad, rather than the driver. Eventually you’re forced to take control (grabing the steering wheel) in order to AVOID disaster, in order to avoid wrecking the lives of others. And yet, while total disaster is avoided, you cannot avoid damage to your own position.

symbolism of the car wreck: the damage is at the driver’s side, implicating a continued hampering of your abiity to take control over your own life… and the feeling that you won’t be able to sell yourelf anymore… that you’ll be regarded as ‘damaged goods’. A possible symbolic mind trick: get a new car 😉

Darwinsmom, thanks for the interpretations. The “damaged goods” thing is 100% accurate. I don’t feel that I have the ability to “sell” myself on any level. For employment, friendships, etc….so much damage represented and no sense of forward momentum. Oy-vey….

Truthspeak,

I saw myself as damaged goods too, in the past couple of years ago before the spath, and certainly after the spath… I’ve slowly come to regard myself as a NEW me though, instead of damaged good, except for the intimacy issue and the triggering when I put myself in an intimate situation.

The past weeks this self-perception has altered too. It started when I described it here, and LF posters gave me a physical reason that I could take control of. When I got the letter (email, but they read like letters rather than email) from my good-ex and his love declaration it put me back mentally in risking my safety in intimate situations in some possible future, and that made me anxious. I confessed to him that I’m embarrassed about being triggered in front of witnesses, especially in intimate situations, and that I avoid those situations. What he wrote back I think has helped me do the last stretch of healing. He took away the shame (said I was without it), and he was committed to forgive my every neurotic response. But he also gave me whole other reference to put it into perspective… he reminded me that we both have seen-it-done-that-bought-the-tshirt with regards to casual sex and that part of our lives is over… how we feel young and yet are entering middle age (40s) and our sexual needs and wants change naturally. And this is true too. That change was actually occurring a year before I met the spath, though I wasn’t always putting the wisdom into practice yet.

It helped immensely to get support from people, but I still felt insecure whether I would really be healed in front of a possible romantic and sexual partner. Life provided me a “safe” situation: a possible romantic and sexual partner that I feel I can trust for the past decade (and did not betray that trust during our friendship) and admit it to outside the bedroom, who’s far away and not physically in my life at all.

And you know what… I don’t regard myself as damaged goods anymore, not even in that department… I’m just driving another car and developed another driving style. And looking back I’m not remorseful for trading in the old car for the new one. I find this one might suit me better after all.

And that is what you’ll be doing as you heal, Truthspeak… You’ll discover that you’re not driving a wreck, but an opportunity to get yourself a new car, one that you really like and are proud of, and nobody will be the wiser.

🙂

Darwinsmom, thank you very much for providing a glimmer of hope to me. As it stands, at this very moment, the very thought of sex makes me physically nauseous. I cannot separate intimacy from what I discovered about the exspath. Genital mutilation, gang-rape, BDSM, violent sex, and everything that goes with that type of activity is burned into my psyche for the rest of my life.

And, to be honest and truthful about physical intimacy, I never healed from the first spath marriage, and I was rather unable to separate spousal rape from physical intimacy, either.

I am happy that people out there can experience intimacy – it should be a delightful facet of a strong, healthy relationship. For me, however, I do not believe that there will ever be a point and time when I can even entertain the idea or fantasize without strong negative reactions.

This is part of the carnage that sociopathy leaves in its wake – a fear of intimacy, a fear of FEELING intimate, and a fear of allowing intimacy on any level. Even platonic intimacy is too much of a challenge, these days.

I don’t have the “funds” to trade in that wreck, just yet. I’m saving up and I will SOON say good riddance to bad rubbish and build my own new car, I think! I’m loving the symbolism..and, I’m going to work to build on it. Thank you!!!!

Brightest blessings

The new car as a metaphor means ‘the way you start to look at the lifestyle”… do you see it as a forced negative choice from your experiences, or do you see it as a valuable. Not sharing my body with someone I cannot trust, because I don’t know them well enough, is a chosen value for me now, rather than the result of being damaged goods. Instead of a loss, I regard it now as a value… and that is the “new car”… So, the new car costs you nothing financially. It’s a change of self-perception 🙂

Darwinsmom, I don’t know how I’m viewing the lifestyle – what I believed to have existed were trust and honesty. I trusted the exspath because he told me over, and over, “I’m NOT your EX!” I believed that he was honest because he would “do things” to prove what an honest, upright guy he was: turning in cash gifts to internal affairs, refusing to stretch the truth (lie) for an insurance claim, etc., etc.

The metaphorical car DOES have a pricetag for me – an emotional price that I’m prepared to trade in, so to speak. For me, it means that I’m prepared to recognize what happened, how I allowed it to happen, and to pay that price to see that it never happens, again.

And….when they were handing out the “Handbook Of Life,” an entire chapter was missing about why life is so stinking complicated! 😀 You know, I think that cavemen had it squared away: you hunt, you eat, you sleep, you reproduce, and you work as a team for the betterment of the group. There wasn’t time to develop elaborate machinations because life was too short, too precious, and too precarious!

The pricetag is the path of healing, and that can be very painful, there is no doubt about that.

As for the cavemen… They had little or no epidemic diseases, joined in at gathering and hunting only from a skilled age (around 16-17), and were as tall as the people of the 2nd half of the 20th century because they had the richest diet, and a lot of leasure time. Life expectancy only lowered with the coming of agriculture and children became part of the workforce and diet was monotonous. And as the reference about the Inuit indicates… they too knew of sociopaths.

Life does knock us about, doesn’t it? If it isn’t a spath, it’s an accident, or a close loved one dying from cancer, etc… Just this weekend I learned that one of the birthday partiers was recently diagnozed with cancer on his arm muscle. The operation went well and it hadn’t spread yet, and he’s lucky the tumor wasn’t so big they had to amputate his arm. He’s 35, conquered coke addiction several years ago, and the bf of a very good friend of mine. She lost her mother last year to cancer, and had started a company with him, which is going well, but they had decided to wait with health insurance…

What I learned with the spath experience and the aftermath is that it NEVER ends. When the man, who now helped me heal my perception of damaged goods with regards to intimacy, broke up with me 11 years ago I ended up in an existential crisis that lasted for months. I was even pre-suicidal. I fought my way out of the pit and rebuilt my life into something that made sense to me, which made me happy. The last thing I expected was that some spath could have such an impact on my life that it would be destroyed again, if it was the right life for me. I thought ten years ago that if I made the right choices in my life, my ‘calling’ that it could never be destroyed, that I’d never end up in a hole and feel like a loser again. I was wrong. I joked at first when I started to pick up myself and the pieces again, “Will I have to do this again by next decade? And again? And again?” Now, I realize that nothing is sure, and that yes in another decade I may fall to pieces again and have a mental breakdown and horrible pain for the losses in my life. It is’t fair. The only thing I can be sure about is that the previous experiences were a worthwhile training in “picking up the pieces of myself again and putting myself together again in a way that will make sense to me then.”

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