By | September 14, 2012 45 Comments

LETTERS TO LOVEFRAUD: Having a child with a sociopath, I am no longer a mother

Editor’s note: The following article was written by a Lovefraud reader who we’ll call “WalkonMom.”

I used to think that “six” was my lucky number. And sometimes, I used to remind myself to show gratitude for six little things, like, the sound of New England leaves as they rustle underfoot, the first snowfall with really huge flakes, each breath flowing in and out, especially when you recognize that you are free for the first time, the scent of your baby’s head as you cradle and rock her in your grandmother’s rocking chair, the preciousness of each holiday, along with the sacred spirit of wonder that fills you as you see your child grow from year to year. Falling in love, and realizing that, no matter what, you’ll be strong enough to fix any boo boo or heal any abuse in the relationship, however seemingly impossible, because, well, you chose to love that man, and that’s supposed to mean forever, and, besides, you’re a mom—that should be enough.

But to survive in a situation of domestic violence, how much love could it EVER take for you alone to mitigate or hold it at bay? And when you realize that nurturing is never enough, that you can’t solve or ever heal it, and when you need to leave Hell to save your child, how much LOVE will it take to get you both out—alive? How much love will it take, years later, when your once kidnapped child chooses borderline behaviors to blame you for everything the sociopath did?

I’ll never forget. November 4, 2008. The night my 17-year-old daughter returned to NH from NJ after nearly six years, finally reaching out to me for help—a plea in the darkness. It was late, and I was tucking her into bed. My second husband and I had just returned from our honeymoon to pick her up in Hartford earlier that night. She had recently voiced some problems (again) with her Dad. I wasn’t given to know what the seriousness of his issues were over the past several years. She and I had only visited on a few rare occasions during her six-year transition to womanhood.

This is what I do know: While she was away, she’d attempted suicide and ended up in the hospital on multiple occasions. She’d cut herself, developed impetigo from self-injury. She took varying cocktails and combinations of drugs over the years, sometimes in dangerous and lethal quantities. She’d engaged in dangerous sexual activity, run away, sometimes being found on a city bench. Most horrific of all, as I was to discover that night, she held an ominous secret close to her heart, one that loomed much larger than the two of us. Bigger even than life itself.

No match

I’d left my first marriage in 2000, and with nothing, save one child, and a NH restraining order. I was no match for this cruel man who would stop at nothing to punish me. He was incapable of love, and as his warped mind was obsessed with obtaining and destroying the one thing he knew I cared about, his sole aim became that of molding our precious child’s soul into something he could torture me with forever, a meted out, deliberate punishment for my daring to leave his controlling, jealous, narcissistic personage, a payback for my rejecting his penchant for enjoying watching me suffer—and for leaving the abuse. “You’re it until I die, baby,” he used to say, over the years. “You’re IT.”

And so I had to borrow money from Mom to keep NJ courts from snatching my daughter back unwillingly, even as she and I had moved to NH with his physical help, and his written, signed understanding that I had no choice but to leave the marriage because of his abuse.

We endured death threats, were in hiding twice, hired one corrupt NJ attorney, “enlisted” the aid of therapists, NH DOVE attorneys—family services workers. But we were no match for the lies, death threats, the unending stream of NJ Italian family money, all fueling corruption that carried a singular purpose: to wear me down while making me appear as “crazy.”

Thus, we fought a three-year long, fledgling court battle with a corrupt judge, between two states, both warring for the acquisition of my child’s tender flanks.


It was in 2003 that he decided to kidnap our child, at the end of a month-long visitation. And it was during that fateful year that the same vulnerable girl who used to plead desperately for the abuse to stop, decided inexplicably, to go back to NJ—to live with her father.

When she returned for a short time to NH with FBI help, she’d evolved into a demanding, enraged, uncontrollable, borderline, destructive teen, filled with angst, three-inch devil horns super glued to her forehead, and Celtic swirls painted where two eyebrows used to be, in the style of her famous half brother’s band.

Once I’d witnessed just how cleverly he’d turned her head with those expensive Lolita skirts, shit kicker boots and a multitude of other promises to be involved with the band, how he coerced her with things he purchased during his “quality kidnapping time,” I knew my role as a mother was over. All I had left was my right to mourn, to breathe, and to try to walk on.

She walks away

At 12, she’d arrived at her own ironic version of an age of reason. For me, it was just another hellish turning point in the ongoing dialectic of domestic violence, an unholy grail of horror from which I knew I would never emerge, because he’d continue to use her to seek and secure a lifetime of vengeance and vitriol from me. What else could I do? I had to play dead, and let her go. She tried to push my mother down the stairs—threatened to kill all of us. So on one fateful summer day, I watched her put on her goth armor, the teeny weeny sexy skirts he’d purchased, and I let her choose to walk away. July 27, 2003—that remains the date of her death, regardless of our current and future interactions.

And so, this same beautiful soul and creature who once begged me to leave her father, now openly rejected the peaceful life it had taken several years for me and Mom to create for her, after finding the courage to leave the abuse. In the silence of one oceanfront family home, I was left alone to nurse these impossibly painful, openly weeping, inner wounds. From that day on, I mourned my daughter as dead. The mere possibility of having to hold, within, the fear and possibility of her death at his, or her own hands, in light of the risks I knew awaited inside the Hell she was to re-enter, now alone, without a mother’s protection or presence, would have driven any mother mad. I screamed and ripped my hair out for a week, and cried and vomited for one more. Then, I donned my teacher’s clothing, and went back to work, telling the story as if I were reciting summer vacation details. The only eyes that no longer had tears were my own.

No one validates this kind of death as mourning, so again, I was not given the grace of sharing it with anyone, for fear of being called crazy, or over-dramatic. Those few people I brought into the circle of the story blamed me, for being stupid enough to “choose” a sociopath, for letting her go, for feeding her Twinkies in grade school, for simply having been born at all. “What kind of mother leaves her child?” they would query. Well, the kind whose child threatens to kill Mom or use their Daddy to kill the family so that she can live the “Secret Life of Walter Mitty” (that he promised her, replete with sex, drugs and rock and roll in NJ), that’s who! I couldn’t compete against a band that was becoming famous; without that, he’d have had no power to sway her into the world of the perverse. Boundaries. It all boils down to boundaries.

Loss of motherhood

For six years, half of me tried to imagine living again as some fictitious single woman, one would never be again a wife or mother, while the other half keened as the woman whose child was absent and had died at the age of 12, to a murderous and conscious-less husband. I checked the NJ obituaries on a weekly basis.

Since that time, regardless of whether or not my daughter still breathes, I will always mourn the loss of motherhood. Life can be ironic, particularly if the devil won’t let you out of Hell.

I’ve read that children of divorce in the context of abuse tend to seek love unrelentingly from the parent with whom they feel unsafe, the one they instinctively know does not love them sincerely. My daughter and I were always so close that, had I demanded she stay with me, she would have given me the middle finger and left anyway, not because of hate, but because she needed me to prove to her, against her father’s protestations, that I loved her enough to let her go, to figure out who her daddy was on her terms, not mine, or the court’s, or any therapist’s. She compartmentalized her love, keeping me in a box only for the tough times.

Meanwhile, after years of trying to keep her safe before puberty, and to hold all of this up alone, I was battle worn, devoid of personal power and hope; in some ways, it was a relief to let her go. Years of his unrelenting torture had kept her hostage, and me from moving on with some kind of half-life. You see, she and I were so connected that I know that she knew all this, too. Deep inside, she knows that she and I were always just pawns, even as her budding psyche needed to fill that void in inner space in which we all need to KNOW that we are loved by our parents unconditionally, even if it’s not true.

Just a pawn

She had always been scared of her father’s unpredictable, controlling nature—many NH friends who called, after she left, validated this when they told me how shocked they were to discover she had chosen to live with him. But the hardest part for me throughout all the “she said” accusations, and through all the dirty legal tactics, his M.O., to avoid accountability, was my knowing from his eyes (and her mouth) that she was “just a pawn” between two equal parents, and an innocent victim of a lose-lose, power-over scheme, in which her Mom was the sole instigator, merely a cartoon character in a b-movie, a buffoon, an inconsequential, incompetent piece of shit, whose indomitable spirit as a mother existed in order to be squelched and mocked, at all cost.

Yet she could only see the situation at that time as any child would, stuck between two divorcing parents who would act upon love only and therefore fight for HER behalf. In spite of circumstances, children all need to believe that their very existences hold real meaning, and that both parents are acting sincerely. That is why she felt so vehemently angry. Since she knew that she could always be herself with me, and that I would love her back without question, while holding her very birthright, which carries also a permanent reminder of my sole personal responsibility for her rage about being born in the first place, within my own being.

In 2008, six years had passed since I’d experienced being a mother to my only child, six years since I’d been lost inside his torturous definition of divorce hell, a place in which I was stripped of all motherhood, raped from the inside out by a cruel and damaged man. Looking back, she and I both knew that all this irony and complexity required that she release herself from the fire of her daddy’s life, and from mine. She had needed to figure it all out by herself, to pull herself up by her Goth corset straps, and eyebrow-less face.

Something to show you

Within this set of sixes in years, I hadn’t known if my child were alive or dead, or even whether or not I’d ever find the will to continue living for myself. So simply for us to come back together, just before she reached the age of 18, was a small miracle. Naturally, she and I were catching up, that November night, on lost years of talking, about little things—how she’d run away from Dad again, how she was missing too many days at school in her senior year, how she didn’t want to live in NJ anymore. I remarked on how very thin and frail and sad she was, compared to how she had looked when she had visited in the summer. I asked her if she was feeling better. She’d vomited when we picked her up, lying in the back holding her stomach all the way to NH. She said, casually, “Oh you know, Mom. I’m withdrawing from heroin again; when I ran away from Dad last week, I had to stay with my friends.” Her friends had held her together, even as the drugs to mute the pain of trauma and long-term abuse were gradually killing them all.

I tried not to pry, even as I felt that sudden, old and all-too-familiar adrenaline rush from the past, that trembling murderous rage within that makes you want to kill the bastard that did this to your child, to erase that power-ridden, sociopathic smirk forever from his evil, stinking face.

It was then that she said, “Mom, I have something to show you.” I tried to draw her out tenderly by guessing what it might be, but then she slowly lifted the fabric of her pants up over her emaciated pajama-donned legs, revealing a horrendous, ugly truth, a horrific badge describing the six years she had taken on a un-winnable and pointless battle all on, by herself. Her precious flesh hung in tatters; there was a long series of deep muscle scars running up and down her thighs; some cuts were half-infected, others long healed. A few were one to two inches deep. I could not breathe, but I knew this moment could either save her life or end it; her future, carrying the basic will to live, was in my hands. I felt IT coming. I stayed steady, like a ship withstanding a rogue wave, turning my bow into the white squall.

His son

And then she said, “I know now why I’ve done this since I was young.” My response was a silence in deep waves of impending grief and doom. I held my breath, as I could sense that dread and nausea and relief were rising up faster than I could feel the blood coursing through my veins. Slowly, and with utterly slow agony, she revealed that her 29-year-old half-brother, son of her father (from his 1st marriage), had raped her, had sex with her. He’d done it while her father was downstairs; my former stepson and daughter up in her bedroom. She said that it was consensual, that she loved him, but that it also led her to take heroin. It made her cut. It made her run away. She’d stopped going to school. It was her senior year. She had done this over the years. I knew then that it hadn’t been the first time, but it wasn’t mine to say it. Her half brother had thrown her across the room before coming to see me; that’s when I realized there was no going back. This was bigger than incest or abuse. This was a life or death situation.

My daughter’s precious life depended, in that moment, for me to be stronger for her than the ocean is deep. She needed, more than oxygen, for me to hold her as a fortress- of understanding, compassion and love. And so as I rocked and held her, I struggled to keep all my past wolves at bay. She spoke only of one incident, yet the cutting and the sex and the problems with her father and his son likely occurred since she was a little girl.

As long as I could focus on breathing out into that eternity, into the inferno of that moment, and as I held her, I felt that we both began to let go, to breathe back in all the life from those lost years back into the corpses of one other. To keep the horrendous thoughts from ripping me apart, I consciously drifted into my realm of gratitude, and uttered seven silent things for which I was now truly grateful, as “six” was no longer my lucky number:

For scent of song in a sky of blue, for dancing and healing and walking on, for the gift my daughter bestowed, which was to let her mother go so that she could be free and learn to grow strong enough to climb back into the abyss again to save her daughter’s life, for the phrase “love goes on forever” engraved on our laundry basket by one nine year old child, for newspapers that do not yet contain the obituary of my own child, for the hope that someday truth will prevail over lies, with the spirit of good triumphing over the hell of insincerity.

Lastly, for the power of imagination lying deeply within the understanding that there will always be many different kinds of deaths we must accept, all of which she and I have endured.

Into the fire again

As she was a minor, the abuse was reported by her, to therapists, and to her father, and to DYFS. Yet still, She chose to enter back into the fire again. She is now 21, trying to bully me into believing that “none of this happened,” trying perhaps to assuage her guilt that I’m slowly dying, by striking the truth from the records of her history. She also has developed borderline personality. In the meantime, I’ve been diagnosed with a rare connective tissue disorder, and fear that these things will never be resolved between us, as my time on earth is limited, keeping me from being able to let go of her. Time is short; most of all, it is unfailingly precious.

Motherhood, too, with a sociopath, is a tenuous, bitter, lose-lose hole into which we fall; it burns me inside that the revelation of the perpetrators must die with me. Yes, against my better judgment, I must do as I am told by US therapists: to keep these secrets under wraps until after I die. One never wants to stir the hornet’s nest, and the revelation of the names themselves will be the margin of safety I leave for my new husband and his family, in the event they are ever threatened. It all seems so ludicrous, and it is exactly why perpetrators continue to get away with murder. I will never see the fruit of my womb heal from her own wounds; I will never be able to protect her from this genetic disease, which she, too, carries. Most of all, as she eschews the truth of her history, she refuses to honor our connection as mutually respectful. I am no longer a mother.

In life with a sociopath, I believe now that one gives up the right to motherhood. The rights to breathe and live on are defined by sheer whim, luck, space, and a lot of grace.

Yet, The one thought that will always bring me the only comfort as I die is this:

In the bowels of Hell, there is but one gravestone, and the only surname that is and will ever remain engraved on it belongs to the sociopath and his son.

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Walkonmom, please accept my most sincere virtual hugs and support – from one mother to another, and both of us recognizing the horrific truth that our children are spaths. My eldest was diagnosed “Borderlie Personality Disorder Cluster B” and is wholly, and completely dangerous. He, too, has self-mutilated for whatever “reasons,” and sought the approval and acceptance of his abusive sperm-donor. He, too, “died” long ago, and there is no reconciliation between the beautiful (literally) infant that I bore and the monster that he is, today.

Yes, there comes a point when “motherhood” is no longer a factor, and it’s probably one of the most brutal of all punishments that an abusive spath can deliver.

Thank you, so very much, for your honest and courageous story. May you find peace – a true, soulful peace – in your journeys and healing. And, DNA does not a family make.

Brightest and most comforting blessings to you

Ox Drover

Dear Walkonmom,

When I came to Love Fraud in the summer of 2007, most of the bloggers here were recovering from romantic relationships with psychopaths, but as the years have passed more and more bloggers have come here from the wounds inflicted by FAMILY relationships with psychopaths. Many who have parents, siblings, and children who are “cluster B” disordered, dangerous to them, and it is particularly painful to have a child who is personality disordered.

I wish as a nurse that I could put a bandage on your wounds and say “there, there, it is gonna be okay” but I can’t because “it” (the relationship you wanted with your daughter as a normal mother would want) may never be possible even if you lived to be 100.

I too have lost a son who is a full blown psychopath and am also the daughter of a psychopathic father that I so wanted to love me. There are many many other bloggers here who also have lost children. I can’t tell you there is an easy way to accept the loss, or that it will be 100% pain free at some time…but even now we are able to find meaning in our lives and acceptance and peace. God bless you, you ARE still a mother, because you have loved your child, even a child who is lost to you now.

I was discussing on the blog the other day about the “stages of life” and how as we grow from an infant into an adult and then a parent and then into our “sunset years” the things we strive to accomplish in each stage are different…I am 65 and already into those “sunset years” in which my own time on earth is limited though for now my health in general is good for my age…I know I don’t have a long time left to do the things I want to do and must come to a resolution of the past decisions I have made.

If your health is such that you are entering this “end stage” at an earlier time in your (age) life, still, you are entering that time when you will need to come to a resolution and an acceptance of what IS rather than what we would wish WAS. Coming to peace and acceptance of what has gone on in the past, the decisions we made (both the wise ones and the unwise ones) is important.



Your story is very well written and thank you for sharing.

I have a daughter who is now 13, who’s sociopath father has attempted to gain custody of through a battle in the family courts. Luckily she had never known or bonded with this man. I feared letting go as you did when I ran out of money and energy. I felt at a point even without her bond to this man that she felt if she just went to him, all this ugliness would end and her mom (me) would not have to endure any more abuse and maybe she could handle him and make it stop. It’s been very scary and it’s not over.

I wish she could read your words and FEEL them and know what it is inside of you but I also know when the BPD, psychopathic people are deeply entrenched in their disorder, they really never feel it or get it.

May you have peace for now and forever.


kim frederick

Well, my first husband, the bio-father of both my daughters is dead. He died on Tuesday night, in his sleep, of congestive heart failure, and alcoholism. He was living in a camper on his twin sisters horse pasture.
As I type my older daughter is preparing to fly across the country to attend the funeral.
She is torn up.
From the time I left him, when she was 3 and a half, and my younger daughter was 8 months old, he never sent a Birthday card, or called at Christmas.
Never willingly sent a child support payment….when they were teen-agers, he kept the courts at bay by sending 9 dollars a month.
I was already over it when I left. I feel very little about it. But, I feel sad for my daughter.
In the last couple of years, her Dad had reached out to her, and she had got to know him, a bit.

Ox Drover

Kim I hate that your daughter is sad…but no matter how much of a shiat they are, we WANT to love our bio parents. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, mine was such a shiat to me that I ended up hating him, then eventually got to where he was a non-entity to me.

He was extremely well known and very very VERY rich, and I had always said that when he died (summer of 2007) thhat I would sue the heck out of his estate and make them settle for just $1 to get rid of me…but you know when the time actually came, I realized that if he had left me ten million bucks I would have given away every cent of it to some charity that he would have hated. I realized finally that I didn’t even want his blood money under any circumstances. He never paid a dollar child support or did anything positive for me when I was growing up by I wanted to get to know him….and UNfortunately I did get to know him very well. He raped me among other things. Two of my three half sibs also had nothing to do with him.

I can understand your daughter’s feelings, and I hope that she can get some closure. Having a P-parent is about as bad as having a P child.

How are you and Pinky doing? Are things better? How is your scooter? The job? I’m still sitting here on my tricycle scooter but getting around better, only about 3 1/2 weeks to go before I get a walking boot.


Walkonmom, I read your story with tears streaming – it’s deeply touching. Your well written story (are you a writer?) drives home the insurmountable damage done by sociopaths. I don’t have any children. But I mourn the loss of my disordered biological family every day in some way or other, and as the daughter of narcissistic and sadistic parents and stepparents, try my best to learn how to bond with people at 52 years of age. I feel for both you and your daughter, and I hope you find some meaning in your situation which has no fairytale ending.


Thanks for all your beautiful responses, replete with wisdom, validation, kindness, and very good advice. Thanks also to Donna, who had the courage to post our story.

I’ve been on Lovefraud for awhile, but as I grow weaker in each day with my illness, I have found it very difficult to let go of my only child, whose soul was once pure and kind and beautiful, but now which splits in two in the struggle to find some kind of bastardized reality that only a warped hard-wired psyche can handle; I felt it very important to start to expurgate my truths in a somewhat safe way, while also not compromising her privacy, just in case something happens, and she is left motherless, with no one with whom she she can ever tell the truth that can validate and nurture her as she knows I have always done. She knows we are always connected, and says so; something tells me that this whole splitting thing is a ruse to keep her life on an even keel.

Each breath contains the potential for healing and change and revelations on the part of my daughter, and so it is without hope, but with radical acceptance, openness to change, and strong boundaries to protect my right to the truth and my new family’s right to walk on in peace without the sociopath attached, that I move forward, with no expectation save the Golden Rule being applied to me as well as to and from all those I love.

Somehow, in all this business of being thrown off our paths by psychopaths, I forget to put the oxygen mask on myself first.

Stargazer, I have done some writing, and do appreciate the validation, more than words could ever say. Illness, just as violence, takes everything away, sometimes all our friends, former capacities, and former successes, save one thing: the unrepeatable essence with which we come into the world. Hearing that something one does has been validating to someone else brings HUGE meaning to a life that is lived from a bed; finding common ground in experiences helps hold up all the collective old wounds that we all share, until the suffering eventually becomes weightless.

Love to all; I’m sending healing energies to each and all who have ever suffered at the man-made obstacles that we’ve all had to try to overcome.


walkonmom (an invented “nom de plume” to protect my current family from retaliation)

Your story is heartbreaking. Please, try not to take more responsibility than is yours to take. You did the best you could with what you knew. The universe provided only so much and you worked with that. Your daughter is a separate entity. She had her own choices. I feel like you are taking all the responsibility for everything that happened. I think that letting it go would be very healing for you. I mean TRULY AND REALLY letting it go to God. Accept that you are helpless and that you can’t control the outcome.

What I hope will happen is that this will help towards healing your autoimmune disease.



Thanks, Skylar, for your wisdom. I wish the disease were autoimmune and something that could be healed by letting go. It isn’t. It’s genetic; I was born with it. The doctors didn’t figure that out until two years ago; my daughter has it, too.



Walkonmom, put all of that energy into your own health, my dear – you’ve got every reason to do this. With your experiences and gift of writing/storytelling, your voice can be one of those that facilitates change.

I’m sure you’ve looked into every avenue to manage your condition, but we simply don’t know “everything” about medicine, and there are more alternatives than there are human beings on the planet. Keep fighting, Walkonmom, because you are SO worth that effort!

Brightest blessings


WalkOnMom – your post has been on my mind and I’m hoping to offer a perspective.

I am the daughter of a sociopathic mother. My father ended up staying with her until he passed when I was 32 years old. Throughout my life, I chose to please my mother because bottom line she was extremely dominant and I was deep down terrified of her. I’ve thought so many times if I had just chosen my father all would have been “well.” But in struggling to make sense of all my what-ifs, I come back over and over to the stark reality that she was so busy and so crazy and so over involved and so controlling that it would have been difficult to truly pay attention to the quiet voice of truth at the time. I’m trying to learn to forgive myself for being terrified and unable to cope better.

Here is what I want to say to you. My healthy parent’s voice was quiet, but there. As I’ve grown older and found my way, that voice has somehow magnified and taken shape even after he passed. I grieve beyond words that I did not see my way to a better life at the time. Hindsight tells me that there were alternate paths, but I could not think straight through all the sociopathic noise. My father’s constant kindness was not always acknowledged by me, but it was priceless and has given me strength even lately (I’m 57 years old).

My father and I ended up estranged by the time he died. I had given up on him and he had given up on me. There were no kind words from him prior to his passing and no words of deepest appreciation from me. Papa – I’m sorry.

My point is, your presence in your daughter’s life is greater than you can possibly know right now. Your continued kindness is never wasted and may resonate years from now. The most important piece is your example. Both you and my father show/ed their children by example that there is another way of being human on the planet (besides sociopath). If not for him, I would have thought exhaustion and drama were necessary to be a legitimate person. Seriously.

It took me years through completely insane and unaware choices to find my way back to my father’s quiet truth – that I am precious and loved and do not have to live like a refugee. He is the reason I even had a chance at being alright. Unless heaven really does look down on us, he does not know that I am alright and safe and that I understand everything. He had written me off.

Even to your last breath – and I’m praying for you to be well – send her good thoughts and good words – they do matter. Something about the life events she has shared with you and her dual feelings resonate so strongly with me. Something about your description of her speaks to me. She is the sociopath’s daughter, but she is also your daughter. And your words and your example are priceless even though it looks totally lost right now.

Thanks so much for sharing with us. Bless you – God bless you. I now know how amazing my father was for being there and setting an example in the face of pure, ultra-busy evil. You are amazing for protecting your current family, for reaching out to your daughter, for being the voice of truth. The Voice of Truth. May your voice grow in strength inside your daughter as my father’s did inside me.

Love and Prayers – OpalRose

I just read your post about your ex-husband.
My thoughts are with you and your family.

Ox Drover


You talking about your loving parent’s voice being quiet—-over powered by the louder one of the abusive parent….RUNG A BIG BELL within me. My loving step father did have a nurturing and loving voice, but it was QUIET…and only now that he is gone am I hearing some of those words, and feeling that comfort. I spent the last 18 months with him while he was in his final stages of cancer and they were some of the BEST months of my life. We had such a connection and such a connecting time and I never felt more loved than I did then.

Sometimes when I have a decision to make, I ask myself “what would Daddy have said/done” and I think a minute and I KNOW what he would have done..he would have done the kind thing, but he wouldn’t have put up with any BS either. This has been a great comfort to me.

Your father’s love is still with you, and his quiet voice is still there. No knowing why your dad or mine put up with the loud obnoxious overbearing hateful voices of our egg donors, but for some reason they did, but their loving of us is still thhere and will be as long as we live. That was a wonderfull gift.

Thank you for reminding me once again that I DID HAVE THAT and I STILL HAVE THAT.


Dear OpalRose,

Your perspective was a pure gift worth more than gold, resonating deeply at the heart of my keening. Thank you. God Bless you. I forgot, in all this “trying to hold on to motherhood that I lost years ago,” that relationships continue to evolve and grow after death.

Your perspective demonstrates the power of that quiet connection to your father within, and it helps you make sound decisions; your courage to share brings the Truth full circle for me, and I cannot thank you enough.

Silencing the man-made fear/sociopathy through working toward radical acceptance is such an understated power. For no matter how much of our lives these damaged people strive to destroy, the machinations of psychopaths are no match for real values, whose resonances lie deep inside the souls of most folks. This same force makes the Universe Itself and the interconnections between mankind and the Golden Rule a part of nature. Reading your post, I cried my eyes out, because you reminded me that the faith, the hope and the love are all in the waiting, and that death does not end a relationship. In fact, it forges it more deeply, and nothing, no one’s lies, or fictions, or machinations to hijack a soul, can EVER touch or destroy that. Choice: yes. Boundaries, YES. The freedom to choose. Opal, you are a gem!



My heart bleeds for you and your family. You must harbor so many conflicting feelings; sending love and light your way.


Kim Frederick, you’re in my positive thoughts.

Brightest blessings

Ox Drover


I don’t know if you read the article I wrote but here is a quote from one of the best books I ever read about how we respond emotionally to tragedy. It was written by Dr. Viktor Frankl after he lost everything and spent years in a Nazi prison camp. Here is a quote from that book “Man’s search for meaning”

“We must never forget that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation, when facing a fate that cannot be changed. For what then matters is to bear witness to the uniquely human potential at its best, which is to transform a personal tragedy into a triumph, to turn one’s predicament into a human achievement. When we are no longer able to change a situation—just think of an incurable disease such as inoperable cancer—we are challenged to change ourselves.”

When I realized that my son patrick was a psychopath, that he ENJOYED how brutal his murder of Jessica Witt was, and I finally had the good sense and back bone to turn my back on him, to give up my delusional hope, the malignant ope that he would change. That we would have a loving relationship when he got out. Even though Patrick had not lived in my home since he was 17, he was “living” in my heart and my head and was part of my every day life. I wrote to him about everything that happened at home, about what I thought and felt and hoped.

Then I realized I had been writing to “Ted Bundy” not some person with a conscience, but someone unrepentant and evil.

It felt like my heart had been ripped out when I realized that I had NO CONTROL over what happened to my son, that I had NO CONTROL over making my “dream” come true where he was concerned. I had been living in a fantasy land thinking I had control over something that I had NO CONTROL over.

Life isn’t always what we wish it would be…and from the day we are born we are getting one day closer to death every day. We bring a child into the world knowing that it will not live forever. Yet we think that life even with eventual death is better than no life at all. We must also come to accept our own eventual death. Whether it is young or old when it happens, known in advance or sudden.

I love my life, I love living. I want to live. I feel like I am finally learning how to live now that I am on the down hill slope at age 65. But I am going to enjoy every moment of every day. Even sick or infirm. Dr. Frankl found joy, found satisfaction in every moment, and found meaning and I intend to as well.

Walkonmom, I hope that you will not hang your enjoyment, your peace, and your life on what your daughter chooses to do or not to do. She is a free agent just as my son is and while she had a “hard life” with a psychopath for a father, she also has CHOICES as well. God bless.


Hi Ox,

We were reading from Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning” last night (it’s one of my favorite books, too!) I agree wholeheartedly, and do live each moment in the fullness of joy and being- the story I wrote was the first time I ever found the courage to expurgate and tell it the way it was (we’ve always held to strong boundaries because we knew she had to make her own choices, and because we needed to protect the safety of our own family). I don’t hang my definition on what my daughter does, but I do want to leave her with the no B/S side of it; my happiness belongs where love is both given and received mutually. With my new family, I’ve experienced and given love for the first time. However, you see, when you know you may not have long to live, the “things left unsaid” issues come to the forefront- letting go is a journey rather than a destination. Yes, we all die and carry that in the back of our minds, but as a half-mother who loves my child, I must attend to the honesty that I always insist to keep between us and with her, and to remain open; to do any less would not be truly letting go. To simply be alive now and have this chance TO let go is a luxury that many do not have.

Every week for the past month, my daughter calls me, and she says she loves me; that is an opportunity to communicate. As hard as it is to see her “split,” it leaves the soil fertile for her to initiate gives her seed a chance to grow back into the sun and feel safe. Recently I wrote to her and told her that I would not allow discussions in which her father and his son were catalysts for her to abuse or denigrate me or my new family. She didn’t speak to me for a month, but then, suddenly, she began to initiate and to agree to a boundary. Seeing her willingness to accept a boundary is evidence that she is not necessarily going to end up always “borderline.” Every day that I can relish in her successes, is another day that she can choose to either stay away or engage.

I’m so deeply sorry about what happened with your son- my heart keens for you, too. God bless- I’m delighted that we were both reading Viktor Frankl at the same time- his writings always call me back when things get tough! What a synchronicity!


I’m so sorry to read your story. My heart hurts for you, and I hope that you can find some measure of comfort, hope, and healing here.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your earlier post. With only one minor exception your story is my story, and my story is yours. My father left my mother after 27 years of marriage, but he waited until my brothers and I had left home before he did it. Tragically it was too late for him, by that time he was a broken and hollowed out husk of his former laughing, fun-loving, affectionate self. But, like yours, his words, his actions and his love of life spoke quietly and sustained me throughout mine (even though I didn’t realize it at the time). My father too died while we were estranged from each other; he too had written me off. I too had allowed a version of parental alienation to blind me to the incredible courage it took for him to stay there with no defences against a raging sadistic psychopath, just for the sake of the children who had all been turned against him. I can barely stand to think about this, at my guilt for not realizing my stupidity and how I’d been brainwashed until it was far too late.

So thank you for writing about your experience with such eloquence.

Like OpalRose, I want to add in my voice of gratitude to walkonmom; your quiet voice has a power and lasting ability that will remain with your daughter for the remainder of her life, should she ever be ready to hear it, that will far outlast your own. You, and OpalRose’s father, and my own, are the quiet, unsung but glorious heroes the world needs in order to keep itself on its proper course. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I send prayers that, as Oxy has said, this stage of your life brings you fulfillment and grace.

Ox Drover

Dear Walkonmom,

It sounds like, in spite of the pain you have been through, that you have your head on straight. I’m so glad of that and that you do have love in your new family. That is also what makes life worth living every day of it.

I feel so fortunate that I have my adopted son D and he is a treasure and a jewel, a son and also a friend. I feel that God has blessed me beyond measure.

I’m glad that you are able to set some boundaries for your daughter (for your sake as well as hers) and that she is responding positively to them. While “borderline personality disorder” does NOT mean “on the border of” and it is very difficult to treat, some people with this diagnosis do manage to live reasonably “okay” lives. I hope and pray that your daughter is one of them.

Yes, Viktor Frankl’s book was a big turning point for me. At first when I read it I thought “my God, how can I whine about my own pain when this man had so much worse things happen” and then where he talked about pain being like a “gas” and that it filled the container totally…so a “little” pain is the same as a “big” pain…and I thought how a baby dropping his passie is in 100% pain…while we know that he is not ruined forever, the baby doesn’t know this and so he cries in total pain. So the pain experienced by anyone is total, and we must not be ashamed that our wounds are not as “big” or as “bad” as someone else’s

I am glad that you were able to tell your story. It seems that it does help us to do that. I know it has with me. To have my pain and loss validated was important, but I also am learning to validate myself, so that if no one in the world believes me, it is still MY TRUTH.

God bless, and thanks for sharing with us.


Dear Walkonmom,
I appreciate your expression of what a parent feels when their child cannot break free of the delusion of a psychopath parent. I honor your strength to listen and support your daughter. Your post is invaluable to so many others who have children with a psychopath and those women who cannot leave the psychopath. Too many parents endure the punishment inflicted on the children after they have chosen to leave. Psychopaths are never satisfied in letting the children and spouses escape.

My personal experience has been similar. I do not have a child with this man. He still cyberbullies and inflicts emotional harm on me. Your honesty helps so many of us. We are not alone, you can express our pain through your story. Thank you for your honesty!



I’m so sorry what you have lived through with the spath and your daughter as a consequence. At the same time I admire your levelheadedness and your actions and stance towards her, despite your illness. Opalrose’s post was indeed a powerful gem. Someone’s good influence does not stop with death, but only if we stop remembering them.

Borderline is not the same diagnosis as a sociopath, even though the behaviour is as destructive and in many ways similar. But borderline can lessen with a certain therapy.

That knowledge may not help your relationship with your daughter, but your daughter isn’t necessarily lost to ever find her way to a healthier life.


I’ve been thinking more about this and reading the posts.

I’m thinking that if there is a space inside us which is undisturbed, then good thoughts and good examples can rest there until a time when we can access them. WalkOnMom has given her daughter priceless words and actions which can help her find her way “someday.” What the daughter needs is there should there be an opening in the chaos at some point. Once those buried treasures are accessed, they become incredibly strong. That happened for me.

I have been called borderline, anorexic, autistic (really) – but as I’ve had time to study and research and read by myself, I’ve realized I was sleep deprived, hyper vigilant and have PTSD. I learned there is a part of me which remained undisturbed – I never liked the life of the sociopath – I just could not find a better way to cope amid the chaos.

Something about WalkOnMom’s daughter sounds familiar and I’m hoping that the treasures given her daughter will become clear someday. I’m really glad about the boundaries set – that is a great example as well. I don’t want to trivialize the losses we have or think that true sociopaths have anywhere within that is undisturbed. Just so grateful that the daughter has been given the same gifts my father gave me.

Annie – you understand completely – bless you and thank you for your post. I visited my father’s people and his grave this past weekend (many hours away from where I live now). I took yellow flowers (his favorite color) and stood above his bones while I honored him for being the unsung hero in my life.

Oxy – thank you for reminding me that I will always have the gifts of kindness and truth my father gave me.

WalkOnMom – thinking of you and sending love and prayers.


Seeing the title of this article..made me cringe. I was married to an abuser for twenty years. Abuses happened that I do not even want to speak about. Four sons were made during that marriage and at one time I was life to them.
I have been divorced for 11 years and it has been 5 years since I have spoken to my sons. The oldest is 25 and the youngest is 19. To them I am crap..I am the useless tender of life. The actions the writer described happened to me and daily I grieve. I no longer define myself as being a odd place to be in.
No one seems to understand, except those who sadly, have walked the same path.
I too have a serious disease..Parkinson’s and it is killing me. Time here in this place is limited. I have had a bout of Pneumonia for four weeks now. No signs of getting better and is a death curse for those with this disease.
I only desire for them to glimpse again real love..the love I give to them. One must go must walk must breath..even if it is the hardest thing I have ever done.


WalkonMom, I am too overwhelmed to write more…having recently had my daughter take away my grandchildren and go no contact on me and her psychopath dad but I must say thank you. It is important and helpful to distinguish between Borderline Personality Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Sandra Brown, author of Women who Love Psychopaths, says that victims of Psychopaths often have PTSD and the symptoms are similar to Borderline Personality Disorder. These symptoms do not mean that an individual actually has BPD. PTSD can be treated and healing is more favorable than for full fledged BPD. There is hope for our daughters. God bless!


As I was reading your post, it literally made complete since and made me shudder at the thoughts of how you could have been feeling over all of these years. I want to tell you that it has given me even that much more inspiration and fire up underneath me to NEVER ever give up fighting for my baby girl, who is 9 years old right now. I WILL NOT allow this to happen no matter what it takes and yes she too is siding with her father for the same brainwashed reasons. But I can tell you that God is stronger than all sociopaths put together and His strength WILL get her back to me no matter what! I will settle for nothing less! She may not like it at first, but she doesnt have the capacity to see the future and what it can hold as your story clearly showa. I will use your story as my internal strength to battle this war and I will win this for her no matter what! No matter what and I will not stop! I refuse to let another soul suffer from a sociopath if I have any type of power what so ever. I am so sorry you have had to endure what you have and my pprayers are with you!


I am so thankful for this site and for your testimony. As I write, I am 22 weeks pregnant with my sociopath’s baby. I have lost so much in my relationship with him from thousands of dollars, the opportunity to complete my masters degree on time to even aborting the first baby we were to have together. While I almost bled to death at home, he was out stealing from me yet again. I believed his lies and was introduced to his family but given false titles so I didn’t know his nephew was his son. I met him on my job and he has come and spoken all he’s done to me on my job and people who I’ve never bothered with have become my cruelest enemies, laughing at my victimized state. If I quit my job, I will not be able to get maternity leave and health insurance I need for my unborn son. I will not have money to pay for my brand new car which he tricked me into buying. I left my church because of the expected criticisms of the members. I was engaged to him long before I became pregnant and he never intended to marry me. My job knows that. But worst of all I worry what I will tell my son when he is born and grows up. From odd comments and specific lies I believe my spath would molest my son and do what he can to turn him against me. I don’t know what to do.

I’m so sorry for what you are going through.

It is so difficult to advise you. Try not to let him affect your emotions. ( I know that is impossible, so just don’t let it show)

You can do this. You can. Don’t worry about the future, the present is all you have. If you feel love and happiness for your child, the child will have that forever. Stress, is what the spaths want for us. Don’t let him have it.

Control your emotions. create boundaries. I’m so happy that you came here for healing. let’s get started.


For everyone who is a mother or father of children that were the result of spath entanglements, I feel that it is vital for us to seek out some sort of relief in the form of support groups or counseling therapy with someone that “gets it.”

Having a child(ren) with a sociopath is no easy task to manage. I did not have a child with the second exspath, and I am so grateful that I didn’t. The first one damaged my sons, thoroughly, and the eldest was diagnosed Borderline and is absolutely spath. The youngest was groomed into a helpless victim and is just now learning important values that were never taught to him during his childhood.

Support groups and therapy are helpful because, unlike reading books and studies, there is face-to-face interaction, and we NEED this, as human beings. We can absorb all of the printed words in the world and regurgitate them, at will, but a group or individual can provide priceless observations on how we are actually managing the damaged pieces of our lives.

This site provides the best alternative if support groups or counseling aren’t available, but I would urge parents to use every means available to help them manage the myriad issues that are a result of being involved with spaths, and the aftermath of those damages that are foisted upon children of sociopaths. There’s a completely different language and approach in raising these kids, successfully – I didn’t know this fact (as most don’t) and some things may have been interupted before they had developed into full-blown sociopathic tendencies.

Skylar, you are spot on. Wok_Chang, you CAN do this – you can survive along with all of the other parents posting on this article. You can survive, you can emerge, and you can teach your precious child about their self-worth, self-esteem, and boundaries through your own experiences.

Brightest comforting blessings to everyone



Skylar, How beautifully written :). Wok_chang, MandyMe, Tinkerbell, Betsybugs, OpalRose, Ox Drover, Kim Frederick, Eralyn, Stargazer, Truthspeak, rebeccap, (and I hope I didn’tmiss anyone) you are all my heroines, sisters in spirit. I’ve read all of your stories, and send prayers, love and light. Darwinsmom, Ox Drover, Annie, OpalRose, and everybody, you’ve all helped so much with your thoughtful and caring posts. There are so many stories and responses, I don’t know where to start- I’m hoping to have the chance to respond to each of you individually- have been in the middle of preparing for a very scary surgery, so I feel a bit like a deer in the headlights with the health, but…what I can offer is this:

Spaths don’t want our children because they “love” them; they want them ONLY because they interpret “love” as enjoying the OCD rush of torturing us, for questioning their power over us, for our daring to leave them, for loving our children while the spaths have led lives without love, often starting from youth. Their propensity to torture often emerges from their knowledge that we care about two things in life: 1. breathing 2. our children. If they can’t have one, they’ll sometimes take the other. So first, the most important thing is to try to find a safe path for us first, (on our own terms, not anyone else’s), but doing so only when we have accepted the risks, and then equally the risks for our children (which the system will give back to the abuser, unless we have more money and power and safety than he does, and evidence). If he knows we care more about our children than life itself (which we do) then that’s what he’ll go right to the jugular for, so while we fight for our children, we have to create a safe place from which to do so, so that he can’t predict what we will do next. “If we do what we always did, we’re going to get what we always got. Before leaving the abuser, I spent two years finding the courage to let go of the outcome of my own life and that of my child, because one thing the books don’t say is that the law protects the spaths, and once we start telling the authorities what he does to them, we become relegated into the world of “she said.” Mom and I fought tooth and nail, to save my child, until the ex bled Mom dry, and I told her to set a boundary, because he tried to ruin her financially, too. We had people follow us, and at one point, I was beaten to a pulp and drugged by thugs, in front of my child. Aaah, the long arm of sociopathic connections- always go on instinct, and only trust those people who show us who they are (actions matching words consistently). Fact is, had I known he would have taken her definitively, I would have stayed until she was 18, but I’d also be dead, because my heart was behaving bizarrely (an early sign of the worsening of the disease), and his abuse was escalating.

One surprising discovery that I made in all of this: our kids LITERALLY have only known us as the parent who used to cower and hide, or to cry and/or fight back with the father, not the confident, radiant, full-of-life and hope person we used to be before we met the spath, (which really is confounding to the kids as we evolve into someone they literally do not know or trust!) Getting back to being that person we were by attending to the trauma, (even meditation while still in the situation can help, but with the goal of envisioning one’s future 10 years from now- my vision actually came true!) and then making ourselves strong, not just by fighting for them, but for fighting for our birthright, are critical; this process of healing US serves to model to our children who we used to be, which gives them a very confusing message (because they REALLY don’t know who we are because the spath has lied about us for years, and because they know nothing else but the cycle of violence!), but some of it eventually does stick, in small ways, just as OpalRose so eloquently wrote.

Letting go while embracing our children, is really hard, but we must be ready, because depending on the spath, we might just do everything to save the kids and still lose them, unless the choice is made to go into hiding, which can so easily fail. We must always be prepared for losing our kids, just as we fight for them, by building our lives back, piece by piece, and by modeling that process in front of our kids. When my daughter returned after 5 or 6 years, she said, “I want you to be best friends with Dad.” I was flummoxed, but said, “Would you prefer the Mom that used to hide in one closet whilst she hid in the other, or would you prefer the strong Mom that sits before you and tells you that I will never again be friends with your Dad?” She said, “I prefer this Mom I see now.” Well, that was my boundary, but it did not sit well with her. The closer we become our former selves again, (with savvy), the more the kids have to “split,” because the ex spouts lies, and the distance between the old family and the broken one is impossible for their psyches to handle. They literally have to become two people, one in front of Dad, one in front of Mom, especially if there are secrets of incest etc. In many ways, they want to save US, so they go along with things because they believe they have no choice but to be a martyr. Thing is: once they reach puberty, their brains tend to choose the familiar, the sense of safety they knew when they were little, the gauntlet that brings them a false sense of reality. My daughter said, shortly before she left, “My brain can’t handle the real world where my Daddy doesn’t love me. It can only live in the world where I can pretend that he does.” That was at age 11, less than 9 months before she was gone. I’m not saying that this is universal; my daughter was lured by the famous band of her half brother, (ex’s first marriage); without that, the ex would have had a very hard time luring her into the fire again.

So we must keep on fighting, because that shows we care. But try not to let spath know you care TOO much; try to create new, unexpected patterns of behavior he cannot predict. For me, in the end, once she was kidnapped, then came back for two weeks to threaten to kill me and Mom, she had reached the “age of reason.” I couldn’t keep her if she was threatening to kill us, pushing Mom down the stairs, screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night that we were all going to be murdered. I told her it would be impossible to get her back, and that if she wanted to, she would have to initiate contact with me (that was in the order). I would no longer let her be a football to be passed back and forth between two parents. I also found out that he only wanted to take her to force the restraining order to drop (after 4 years) and found documentation of that. It was a bitter pill for her to swallow when he wrote that to her, and I sent that documentation to the attorneys as proof of his intent; my child STILL decided to go. His coercion was far more effective than the truth because it was familiar- traumatic bonding.

As for therapeutic intervention, DBT helped a little, boundaries and putting her in a situation in which she started to make all her own choices as an adult really helped. Yes, she still splits, but she does good things for people, she has kept a job and works really hard at it, has a boyfriend, and is trying to live a simpler life, even if the house she lives in belongs to the ex’s best buddy. One small step at a time. My heart bleeds for everyone in the middle of this, for those who had spath parents, for those with babies. Thanks to Donna for this site, because it is the one watering hole in the desert. May it continue to grow and help others.

OH, one more thing- in many communities, the YWCA offers help for women/children going through DV and other issues- they are remarkable- they can even go to court with you- and often have other resources/support to guide people in varying crises. It was invaluable to me during those years.

Many blessings and hugs to all!

Floating Feather

walkonmom-Big e-hug to you. You are the first woman I’ve read about that felt like you’d lost your motherhood. I do too, but not one person I’ve ever spoken with can understand that.
You, and so many others who post here are so brave. I’m relatively new here. I finally registered today because I wanted to reach out to you and thank you for sharing your story.


Hi Floating Feather,

I am so sorry that you have lost your motherhood, too, and that you, like so many of us, have had difficulty in being able to put a voice out there, to be validated and seen for who you are. You are so very brave, too!

There are so many beautiful women, children and people out there who have lost a child, a primary parent, an important connection, due to man-made sociopathic influences. The stigma, however, associated with talking about or even revealing to anyone the losing of that birthright of connection with our children, is huge; many of those I’ve told in “real” life judged and rejected me, assuming that I MUST have been a bad mother to have lost a child, that in divorce, both parties have an equal footing, equal power, which is not true. Most people are just afraid that our bad luck will rub off on them; they choose to see us as damaged goods, so they won’t have to look at the abusive/dysfunctional patterns in their own marriages.

So I lost many potential friends, any sense of belonging and of community, and have suffered unwarranted judgment for years (and then lost the rest of them once I got sick); it felt as if a part of my body had been cut off, while my fate seems that of utter invisibility. I CHOSE to tutor a child with cancer who was dying, partly because she was my student and loved her as my own child, but also because I could understand and take the pain of losing a loved one, and nurture the part of the broken heart of a family losing her life, just as I had lost a huge part of my own life- in many ways, doing hospice work helped me walk on. I had to rip that wound wide open to prove to myself that I was not alone.

It isn’t always the flower that blooms in a bouquet that we notice; there’s always the one in the back of the bunch that never has a chance, and in many ways, as in nature, some lives carry that fate, no matter what we do to stop it. But still we must try. To open up into the light. For most people, that is how it works. For the rest, well, that’s something that cannot be cured or remediated, and the only way to stop it is to learn how to avoid sociopaths like the plague. Pure hearts are such apt magnets for the insincere.

In power over schemes, through marriage with narcissistic/sociopathic people, the battle with children is already lost once it has begun.
Society walks around as if this very REAL, invisible relationship, indeed a very real death, is not real. Yet it is meted out for us via punishment: for our sincerity and love for kids, and especially for leaving (or even staying in) the hostage situation.

Society’s unspoken message is that divorce from a spath is a blow we should suck up and walk on with, but without ever speaking of it. Even if we can raise our kids, the spath uses them, twists their reality, and us, as pawns in his twisted, sordid game, for as long as we have ANY contact with him. Courts just don’t get this. They don’t see that we are hunted down, just like deer in the forest. Our children are abused, yet the spath is given free rights. Our deepest selves, the people we are and were, become fiction, whispered in rooms, noted by the absence of holiday invitations, girls’ nights out, and the unwillingness for most single men to take on such “baggage” in dating, (as if they don’t have any!)

And so, we should at the very least, secure the right to tell our stories, to hold each other up, to give ourselves a fair shake at creating a new life, so that when our children come back, (if they ever do), they can begin to get to know us as who we truly are, not that fictionalized weirdo the spath created to bastardize. Each of us is the person that life and nature and all the good things that the Universe wants every human being to share. That’s what we were born to be!

And if the children don’t turn around, then at least we can share, with those that do understand, the successes of what we DID do right, how we were the ones who nurtured and loved unconditionally, how we did everything in our power and more, in spite of the fact that every spath’s glib words are so much more powerful and believable to the kids than the Truth.

Unconditional love never stops, while conditional sociopathic machinations are cancers that destroy the fabric of love and life itself.

May we all find the life above the ground by following the light, and by letting our true soul seeds germinate from the roots of our genetic birthrights, come what may. Who knows what kind of garden will we find above the ground? Curiosity alone makes the journey worth it.

Love and Light,



This is one of the most “SPOT ON” articles I have ever encountered. I am a mother of 4 children, 3 of which are currently with the Narcissistic Spath (my eldest is not his, thank God…one less child having to deal with his relentless chaos).

I recently learned about love from an online abuse recovery group that focus on relationships with Narcissists, Psychopaths and Sociopaths. My ex-huband happens to fit ALL criteria for diagnoses. The charming, Jeckyll and Hyde with creepy eyes who projects his downfalls onto others blaming them for his faults via use of lies and manipulation utilizing church and state as a crutch as his grandiose entitled self seeks sympathy by suggesting he is the victim. What would you like for dinner? … “cyanide”. Nothing more than a shell of existence (empty), a mere martyr who uses and abuses others to get what he wants in life. Using relationships and sex with females to “appear” normal, he needs others to keep himself upright within the community as he cannot do it alone. It’s all about appearances for the sociopath and how things appear are not even remotely close to reality as I’m sure you well know.

I admire the fact that you have utilized your unfortunate experience to educate others, I am trying to do the same but to no avail. Unfortunately the only resolution to the situation I am in is through public exposure of the TRUTH but just how to go about getting someone to televise it remains amiss. I believe only personal experience can shed light on what its truly like dealing with a spath.

I was married to a master manipulator for over 10 years who has been Clinically Diagnosed with Borderine Personality Disorder, Narcissistic Traits, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Depression and Adjustment Disorder, I truly believe he is a Psychopath…literally, he accepts no responsibility for his actions and shows no empathy or remorse for those whom he has hurt. His methods are cold, calculated and premeditated. What started out as continual verbal threats and put downs, led to physical acts such as spitting in my face, confinement, choking, biting my face, attempted rape, suspected poisoning then murder for hire and I his intended victim. All of which has been reported and documented by the authorities.

I’ve had a no contact order and 3 orders of protection, all of which he has violated and only served 6mo. probation-they referred to the incident as “invasion of privacy”, he had threatened my life by stating he was going to burn down my house with me in it-even pled guilty to this because I had evidence that he had placed unauthorized changes on my phone bill, I also had unauthorized charges on my credit card and he had accessed my mortgage account online and changed my username and password-all of which illegal activity. The entire commission of the murder for hire is on audio obtained by the LPD in Indiana, the person he solicited and conspired with was an informant for the police. The Chief of Police maintained they had “more than sufficient evidence for conviction” the Prosecutor NEVER FILED CHARGES and indicated to the public that he “backed out” which could not be farther from the truth as he indicates 9 times that he has intent at a later date, even inquired how much it would cost. During the interrogation which is video taped he indicates “I don’t know how to get out of this mess, she doesn’t deserve half” hence motive.

He continued to harass and stalk me even after the divorce was finalized which took 14 months to have him removed from the residence and another several months to be finalized. I lost over $70,000 in assets, got stuck with a $10,000 lien against my home and was awarded only $42 a week child support for 3 children (daycare during the summer cost $205 weekly). My X owned a restaurant at the time and of course lied about income, he also collected over $2,000 mo. rental income in addition he started a job @ Chrysler. I petitioned the court for increase in CS and was informed that I should be paying him money…What? (he made way more money than I). I also requested a quit claim deed to the residence I was granted in the divorce and that was denied as well, allowing my X to maintain control once again because if I end up dead he gets the home and the contents.

Taking the X back to court led to further stalking type behaviors and corrupting the children into thinking I was the one who broke up the family, was unwilling to reconcile and that he was the victim (all alone) and somehow suffering. Via use of parental alienation my children bought into his fantasy therefore denied the reality of any and all abuse against me including the murder for hire which was headline of the Pharos Tribune in 2007. In their minds none of this ever happened, I was told by my eldest at one point that maybe I deserved the abuse. I frequently hear verbatim insults spewed from the mouths of babes all of which learned from their father. My children became physically abusive towards me, my eldest was choking her siblings and I. The X started filing false allegations of abuse against me and encouraged the children to corroborate his stories when questioned by the police and CPS, one report was somehow “substantiated” because my daughter happened to have a dime sized bruise-none of the “story” made any sense… the X and my daughters all had conflicting testimonies. Yet somehow I was deemed the guilty party.

I petitioned the court to move from Indiana to Illinois (my
hometown) to remove myself and my children from the excessive abuse and control of the X. He in turn filed for custody and was granted it. The judge then court ordered that I have a psych evaluation to prove the children were safe with me without due cause, he then ordered the sheriff’s police remove the children from my home and the children are not allowed out of the State for visitation. I had a psych eval done as Ordered which concluded NO Diagnosis and that my visitation should be unrestricted in any way, it was deemed “Inadmissible” by the judge.

Getting custody was not enough as well you know that the Spath is never satisfied and will exhaust someone to the point of wanting to kill yourself. I was then brought back to court by the X still not happy (as one never is) he asked for all the kids belongings-he was given half of them when we got divorced but of course they grow out of things and he did not feel he should have to pay for anything. He lives with his mother…cannot even support himself. I was court ordered to pay $209 weekly child support $906 monthly (which was 80% more than I received) I have a mortgage to pay and am unemployed because the day my children were taken, I immediately quit my job-Due to the ongoing obstruction of justice I left the State as I was sure I’d end up dead as authorities do nothing to protect me.

The X has been neglecting and abusing all 3 of my children for the past year he has had custody. I have sent emails and placed phonecalls to their school (“your concerns do not warrant a report to CPS”), doctors (“we do not have an obligation to report hearsay”), counselor (“there is no evidence”), police and CPS all of which refuse to get involved or substantiate anything even though there is Physical evidence of impetigo (not taken to the doctor), my eldest is suffering from ulcerative colitis, my 6 y/o son started a fire in the home while unsupervised, my 9 year old went from size 10 to size 16/18 in one year, my son said he was hit so hard he could barely move and was out of breath on the phone…the officer called informed me CPS would follow up, I found out later he never made a call to report the incident.

Because of my continued efforts to expose the X’s abuse and neglect he decided to go for the jugular and started stalking me during my visitation (every other weekend), he showed @ my sons baseball game-I called the police to file a report. Due to it being a “public place” the police could not do anything…as usual, although they did agree he belonged in prison for the Murder for hire, Really? I indicated I was going to make a public announcement that my X is a stalker that has a history of violence and should be serving a life sentence in prison, I included they should access my Facebook account to hear the downloaded Audio obtained by the police during their investigation of the murder for hire to learn the “truth” I had also asked the police to access this, hit the share button to do a public service to the community as no one is safe with him on the streets. I informed the police he has chosen his next victim and was informed she is a “well known drug abuser in town”…thats just great because she apparently watches my kids. This event was misconstrued by the X who alleged that I am “crazy” and even convinced the kids’ counselor to write a report for the judge in hopes to terminate and or supervise my visitation.

Court was 6 weeks ago. I remain unemployed (for the past year) and represent myself,I filed an objection to terminate visitation. I informed the counselor and CPS caseworker that when my children end up dead for not removing them from the X’s it will be on their head and suggested a criminal should not be raising children nor should his mother who raised him and they all live under her roof. The judge rehired the guardian ad litem who is biased and for the X who conveniently left out of her report that my X was on probation for violation of the protective order and referred to me as “condescending”. I was then informed that due to the extensive nature of the case that ultimately one parent need be completely out of the picture. It was suggested again that I seek psychiatric help so the psychiatrist could shed some light on the situation. The GAL suggested it be someone “in the area” which is 3 hours from where I live, I have no insurance or funds to pay for help that I do not need.

Since when is it ok to victimize someone for a lifetime even after you have moved on, then for the courts to suggest that the victim needs help (completely negating the history of a perpetrator with horrific acts of violence and plot to murder their victim)?…Then victimize you further by taking your children, giving them to the perpetrator to be further victimized and corrupted to the point they soon will be delinquents with interpersonal problems. This is why so many victims end up dead…people turn a blind eye, there is no “justice”.

It breaks my heart knowing that I cannot help my children because no one is willing to listen, nor do they understand the actions of a Narcissistic Sociopath. I cannot sleep, eat, concentrate or stop crying, I’m losing hair by the handful. I long for some normalcy in life with my children but unfortunately its never going to happen until he is put in jail for his crimes…the individuals that have assisted him in his ploy should be sent there with him.

To be robbed of any and all sense of self by a perpetrator of violence then deemed by a Judge unfit to maintain custody of your children because “you cannot let the murder for hire incident go”, giving the children to the perpetrator, court ordered to have a psych eval to prove your children are safe with you (the victim), the evaluation performed by a Psychiatrist with 30yrs experience which clearly indicates No diagnosis is deemed “inadmissible” merely adds unfathomable insult to injury. This is one of the most blatant reprehensible and appalling cases I’ve ever known and I’m personally living it. My children and I continue to suffer as a result of ongoing Obstruction of Justice.

My situation may seem too incredible to believe but if you have truly encountered a spath, you know exactly where I am coming from..your heart and soul completely torn apart by a monster in disguise and a “system” who has condoned his actions by not holding him accountable.

The Bible says “be sure the truth shall find you out”…My First Ammendment Right to Freedom of Speech may be all I have left in life since my children were taken and I intend to use it. Google “Murder for Hire Guilty or Not?…You Decide”, the audio obtained by the police is downloaded with some history of the case which was conveniently kept under wraps by a Prosecutor who is guilty of obstruction of justice. Hit the “share” button for all to learn they are not alone in their fight for their children, public exposure can be a real eye opener.

Thanks for sharing your story, you are not alone.


Traumatized ~

So sorry to read your horror story. You are not alone and I’m glad you found your way here to LF.

You may want to check out a web site – It was suggested previously by a frequent poster and it has a lot of information.

Best of luck to you.


oh my god, what a horrific story… I’m so sorry.



My heart goes out to you. Since I don’t have any kids, I don’t have any advice, but my thoughts are with you.


To both of you, I am so sorry that you went through what you did. They were horrors that I wanted to spare my son.

I succeeded in part.

He was kidnapped by two of them. He was hospitalized twice for suicidal ideation.

Ultimately, I got him away from the Ps, the mental health efforts worked, and he is growing into a wonderful adult, but the problems with the police and the courts, I have had those, too.

I am on (I hope) the home stretch of dealing with my son’s P father. Everytime I read stories such as yours, I am so grateful that he wanted nothing to do with my son. That we did not have that cancer present in our lives is a blessing, although before I knew what he was, I thought my son was worse off for his absence.

A friend was concerned by the effort that I have put into this case. He thought that I might be intent on revenge and suggested that I find a baseball bat and go visit the guy. He looked shocked when I answered that I am long past any need for revenge; I want to bring awareness and change the system.

I want to stop stories like yours. Nobody should have to live through that. It saddens me that people do not understand how much we suffer. It is troubling that they assume that our feelings would be on the same level as the Ps. Why can’t people understand that what we’re trying to do is bring normalcy and peace into our lives and those of our children?

As for doing what I have done, if I hadn’t, the fear of having a child destroyed would have been too much for me to bear.

I am truly sorry for your grief and pain.

what a horrific ordeal, I’m so sorry.


Traumatized, I’m so sorry to read of your horrific experiences and subsequent battles with the Legal System. “Legal,” it may be, but “common sense” and “justice” are ideals that never get past the metal detectors.

I can’t offer any suggestions other than to look into legal resources through your local domestic violence hotline. The website: can at least put you on a course of various actions, including legal aid.

I am so sorry that 3 of your 4 children are in the spath’s clutches. At some point, they will be able to make their own decisions (to a degree) and they will seek you out in desperation. Be prepared for this. It’s also possible that one of your children may develop a tremendous trauma bond with their spath parent as so often happens. Be prepared for that, as well. It won’t make it any easier to accept, but knowing what it is, what causes it, and that it’s beyond our control is helpful in our recoveries.

Brightest supportive blessings



I am so sorry you are dealing with the underbelly of the beast! Not only do I completely believe your story I have lived much of it. Don’t kid yourself, MANY KNOW it’s true! Somehow our society has become so apathetic toward victims and embracing of the victimizers that serious destruction must come to wake them up! My daughters pediatrician wasn’t surprised when I told her the criminal had more rights than I, the honorable citizen of society.

It’s sick and wrong. I have murder threats on record by a team of psychiatrists (homicidal ideations described in sick detail) ignored. He came for my daughter/his daughter. I lost everything and while he has an arms length of criminal and psychiatric history while I have NONE, I was ordered to a court appointed psychologist and so was my honor roll “well rounded” child. It is a money making system. They have sold their souls to be in that “business” as even they no longer refer to it as law but BUSINESS!

That’s what you must wrap your mind around. It’s not what you thought. It’s not honor or justice. I cried telling them (the attorneys, judges etc) I still believed in the words etched on the exterior of the building (truth and justice) and I asked if any of them even look up on their way into the courthouse anymore. I was then asked “did you come up with that on your own?” WTF?!!!

I have experienced NO PROTECTION. Whenever I called due to finding psycho lying in my backyard watching through the window, I had no proof he was there. When I showed 50 phonecalls on the caller ID in ONE day they said it didn’t prove HE was calling. Mine finally got himself incarcerated but let me tell you, it gave him more power than he ever had before!!! It BLEW my mind. They learn in there how to use the system even better. Nobody could believe what happened after he was released. He had the backing of the “fathers and families and faith based prisoner reentry programs”!! They get BILLIONS of dollars in federal funds to make MEN become FATHERS IN PRISON! It’s a psychos dream! They believe each others lies and now they are giving them jobs making unbeleivable amounts of money (4 times any pay he ever made before) and give them free legal assistance to gain custody of their kids as they believe it will stop them from committing more crimes. Instead it is destroying the non-criminal parent and child/ren.

The biggest thing is MONEY!!! There are many trying to expose all different aspects of this.

I want every single player in every single case named publicly. Your Judge, your GAL, your court appointed psychologists and if custody is changed, there should be a publicized reason for that decision. If your kids or any kids (God forbid) are harmed/killed, there is no accounatability. They can all point the finger at CPS, GAL reports, Psychologist recommendations so the judge doesn’t lose a wink of sleep.

I know the amount of energy and stamina it takes to persevere and it’s an inhumane expectation. There is no help or assistance for us either when they have destroyed our ability to work and function.

Keep telling your story. Go to Safe Kids International. They are also getting media attention. They want timelines from YOU!! Fox news is on this. Your story is perfect for them.

Hang in there and remember it’s a corrupt business. It is not LAW.

I am sorry and I am pulling for you as I am a mother too who has learned this horrid life lesson!

One more point I want to let everyone know, since the prisons are now being run by private companies, many who knew in advance became millionaires from this and now these private businesses running the prisons have started programs in all directions which are federally funded, tax exempt (we are paying for this with our taxes) and they are starting companies (a lot of contruction type) to hire these convicts upon release and they are protected by our federal government so for they avoid insurance purchases and are reimbursed all under the guise of prison reform, prison reentry, families and reducing recidivism!!! IT”S TRUE AND THE COMMON HARD WORKING CITIZEN IS NOT WELCOME!!! I am madder than hell about this.



There seems to be a common issue with the children and SUICIDAL IDEATIONS! I wrote to the CDC (Center for Disease Control) back in either 2009 or 2010. They had written an article about the increase in suicide in adolescents. They insinuated it was due to the problems with the economy. I told them to look a bit deeper and find out how many of the suicides and calls to suicide prevention from children were children in custody battles. They did write back to me stating they forwarded my letter to different departments, one within their organization and one at the Health and Human Services department but I have since found out billions of dollars of federal funding are coming from HHS to the fathers rights and fathers and families and faith based family all non-profits which are not regulated or followed to prove any positive help the funds are having on children. (I consider them as corrupt as they get and will be elated if they are ever held accountable) While it sounds like I have a problem with fathers I DO NOT. Unfortunately good fathers are not the ones using these resources for the most part. It is the sociopathic/psychopathic fathers who “work” the system to victimize. There aren’t funds going to mothers under this subject or to any degree like this so I am just stating what I have learned.

I suggest all parents who’s children have been driven to suicidal ideations or even homicidal ideations, to write to the CDC and/or HHS as it cannot hurt. All of their “stop bullying” campaign should start in the courthouse!!! I have also written about this to whomever I could or those who would be connected to this problem. Even moms who have been driven to suicidal thoughts should put it on record if it doesn’t threaten their custody.

I did retain sole custody of my daughter but I made so much noise and dragged myself to every venue I could, I almost think they decided to move on to the next person instead of dealing with me. LOL I was not going to stop until I was dead on their doorstep and I let them know. I did this professionally as possible and as honestly as I could. I do believe my rich relatives names got around to the courts as they and their friends donate to causes for children and taking my daughter and giving her to a 9 time felon in my county alone was going to be questioned. Again, MONEY. I am not rich. I am a good mother and honest so the courts had no real leg to stand on.

Please disclose to all outside businesses or federal institutions and don’t stop as I even wrote to the president daily for many days. I even “oopsed” a couple to Homeland Security for reasons I won’t mention but in hopes Napolitano might hear. (although I started getting scared of reprocussion) I made valid points. I did get a response so again proof somebody reads it. It’s wearing and difficult and if you can’t due to exhaustion DO NOT hold it against yourself. Do what you can. Pat yourself on the back for each thing you do. It’s more than most are doing!!!!

Ox Drover

Dear Traumatized and Eralyn,

My heart goes out to you both and my prayers for you and your children. What the “family courts” do on a daily basis to children and nurturing parents makes the Penn State Sandusky cover up look like peanuts….and yet these judges go home at night and the DAs get reelected and the crimes against families goes on….

I wish I had something comforting to say to you both more than “you are not alone.” I WISH you WERE ALONE at least it would mean it was “only” two women and their children…but unfortunately, you are not alone, your name is LEGION. I am sorry.

Keep on reading, learning, healing yourselves so that you will be strong for your kids. God bless.


Dear Traumatized,

I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to go through this nightmare with more than one child- my heart bleeds for you and I am keening for your suffering. I’m so sorry I didn’t respond earlier; I’m preparing for brain surgery soon, and so if I don’t get back online here, it’s because of the health issues.

You are not alone, as Eralyn, Ox Drover and so many of us have experienced. It’s amazing how even little details of the tortures meted out by the spaths seem so eerily predictable- it’s as if there’s just one man doing the same thing to the masses of women and children trying to move on with their lives! Interstate issues are horrific- we might as well be living in another country altogether as far as the dearth of laws and protections are concerned.

I couldn’t survive in NJ, and the ex would have put a hit out (his mother threatened it), so moving to another state was a double edged sword. Also, in terms of GALs, we were REFUSED a GAL on the record in NJ, and then the transcript for every court hearing disappeared (I still have the judge’s order to destroy all the NJ records before divorce). Corrupt judges, police etc. random people following us, (and even getting beaten to a pulp by thugs)-death threats- were all part of the deal. It was my experience that these guys, if jailed for violating DV orders, make fast “buddies” in the jails with the bad police guys, and then records start disappearing, and weird things happen, all designed to scare and threaten- it’s akin to a club of sociopathic misogynists. I did find help from the local YWCA Women’s Crisis Services; they sometimes have a network of support for people going through this stuff. They even go to local hearings with you, and can help navigate getting DOVE attorneys involved in some cases (I’ve used DOVE attorneys twice in my home-state). A bleeding heart attorney took our case on in the other state after the first “lawyer” we’d hired in NJ had been paid off by the ex – he was allowed by the NJ corrupt judge in chambers and in court several times after being disbarred for taking money to buy oxycontin (we didn’t find that out until he withdrew from the case in the judge’s chambers, with the ex, his uncle attorney, and the judge calling me at home to say that they were taking my child back to NJ, 2 1/2 years AFTER she’d lived in NH). I wrote to several attorneys online, and this one wrote back and found out that the NJ court file was empty. In the meantime, I had no car (the axle had fallen off), and I had to spend the meager child support (he lied and said he earned 10,000 a year as a handyman) to hire a driver to send my child off on visitation 13-15 hours on the road every other weekend and anytime he wanted, ALL holidays, only to have the ex not show up, putting my daughter in a state of panic. I won’t even mention the IRS tax return audit disappearing at the federal level (he forged my name), and the identity fraud (so I couldn’t get a car). All this, and no wonder the kids end up “splitting” and, as Eralyn so eloquently investigated, suffering from suicidal ideation. Eralyn, thanks for being a warrior for the cause- you are amazing and so spot on in terms of the causal relationship between the suicidal ideation and power-over divorce situations. In addition, the “cutting” and the drugs seem also a red flag for this, as well as for incest/sexual abuse. Dr. Drew Pinsky wrote and said, for example, that heroin use in teens is correlated directly with sexual abuse.

Traumatized, I’m sending out a big hug to you; if you need anything, just holler. The YWCA women’s services might be in your area (or something similar). You so deserve a warm soft place to fall and an oxygen mask for yourself so that you don’t feel so alone. At the very least, this site is incredible, and, at the very least, we all have one another. Thanks also G1S, Skylar, and Truthspeak. You guys are wonderful. Blessings, and hang in there!


really moving.. my son too has repeatedly shown rage that I chose to produce him at all… the only blessing may have been that he is a son and not a daughter, so the chance of sexual abuse speacially when he was very small, pre-verbal, and alone with his father may have been reduced, though as I reflect back now, the maid did report that he used to vomit and panic on seeing that his father had arrived before me from work, and I also remember that he used to cry desperately if I was leaving town even though I was leaving him with his father and could not understand why he’d cry so much when one parent WAS home… but probably the parent was the problem…. yes, I have to bear the brunt of my son’s frustration with all the violence he has been subjected to, and all the general abuse and madness he has had to witness as a child, and says he hates his childhood because of “us”, and that as soon as possible he wishes to leave us and never have anything to do with either of us; in his mind we are one blob that has caused him grief and agony, and as of now he blames me equally for letting any of this happen; he questions my decision to marry the monster, and definitely the decision to have a child with him…

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