By PressEject
It seems so odd. I wasn’t exactly in love with this person! But I was entirely caught up in his breath, his every sentence, his needs and desires. He charmed me into thinking it was so much more that we shared.
I sensed early on he was not exactly mature in conducting a one-on-one relationship. But I assumed I could help guide him and show him how to trust and become closer.
He came across as unique, at times humble and often very sweet to be with. I heard his “story” and understood how difficult it had been for him trying to feel close to others and I was honored he felt he could be close to me. The story, a true “pity ploy,” pulled me in. But I didn’t think twice. After all, didn’t I also share a similar story of having struggled to achieve deeper intimacy in my life?
But the pace was quick, and it went from instant sexual attraction to having him call me almost every night. It felt wonderful but almost too good. Was I all of a sudden being looked after or being kept in a jar? Was I his focus of warm, kind attention or some kind of lab experiment, something he would slowly dissect each night, probing with questions, appearing to share a sincere interest in my life?
At the time, I didn’t know to question this but instead sensed I had a man that truly thought so much of me. The compliments were lavish, his desire never hidden. I had a wealthy, accomplished, healthy, active and athletic man returning to me with an uncanny and precise regularity. I could almost sense when the phone would ring.
Read more: Seduced by a sociopath — it’s not love, it’s love fraud
Six months have passed since I discovered the ugly truth to the type of love I thought I had in my life. That none of the words of love he had written on cards and in emails meant anything. That the desire for sexual passion was his highest state of consciousness, that all else was secondary, frail constructs made of echos he mimicked to sound like adult conversations, or even less substantial gestures used to form a connection based on reflecting my own personable warmth right back to me. Where was the love? Where was his piercing focus on me after he said “that was it, it’s over,” that he could not continue with me. As fast as the relationship had cemented together, it cracked apart!
Grieving, and confused
I had been idolized then tossed aside. From high in the sky with visions of perfect romantic sunsets to merely a shadow in a deep dark ditch where even the reflected glow of one last fading sunset could not reach. Something had died. I was grieving to be sure, but I was confused. The person I thought I knew wasn’t the person that left at the end. So even the death was beyond comprehension.
To have this kind of trust shattered went beyond my understanding of the relationship, it pulled into question everything I had ever thought or done in my life, every action, every desire, and every hope I had ever felt was all suspect now. I didn’t know who I was anymore, my mind struggled to find something to hold onto that would be stabilizing and comforting. A friend helped me to get to church. I wept in front of friends, a priest and my even my understanding of God and His angels would also be clouded by tears.
Days went by, eventually months. I followed a rule of no contact even though at times my heart and mind demanded some kind of better explanation. I learned to let the feelings try to run through me. To let the memories play over and over if they needed to, each time running into the same dead end, deprived of justice or consolation.
In support groups I went back into my childhood experiences of abuse. It took my mind off what had happened recently to me as an adult. I learned others shared similar stories, that we had at times bonded with those that would only perpetuate victimization in our adult lives as we had simply been blinded to how this all worked.
The gift I was given this year was a raw new sensory awareness of how others are simply not able to love the way I had assumed everyone could. I have been left holding onto this gift, not quite sure how to use it as I still feel somewhat paralyzed from all that happened this year. But I know this is the gift I have been given, that the pain, like a birthing pain, was necessary to give me a new life.
Out of the dark ditch
In dedicating myself to recovery, I was aided greatly by much that makes up the site at Lovefraud.com. I benefited from so much that others have shared. I could start to see clearly again, and find a way out of that dark ditch.
A new awareness came to me to understand that to eventually transcend the hurt, I might need to eventually think of others more than myself, but also to know I could find my own respect again for myself. Once I had reached for help and received a certain amount, I learned there were new ways to heal by sharing my own recovery with others.
In this spirit, there are a few thoughts that came to me I wish to share and hope that somewhere out there, someone might read this and find some kind of benefit or comfort through this effort. Perhaps these observations will shed further light into the discussion we at Lovefraud are all a part of.
In particular, I wish to share something that I have questioned for many months and now finally feel I have some better sense of, a deeper personal understanding of the reason why the pain seemed so great. I think it comes down to something very simple. (Please note, this may not apply to other peoples experiences but it seems to make sense of what I went through.)
Child in an adult body
It occurred to me, that being pulled in by a sociopath is similar to being pulled in by a charming child with needs that one would like to help. Yet we are deceived as this is a child in an adult body.
In the early stages of the relationship, I received gifts from the S that seemed to come from genuine caring and adoration. Yet they were very impulsive purchases when I think back.
In numerous accounts, a sociopath is described as having an underdeveloped or missing sense of empathy, and it only becomes fully realized when one is discarded abruptly. And therein lies the shock and the bewilderment. My feeling is that the S pulls us in by appealing to the child in each of us. That we too wish to be completely spontaneous and playful, like carefree children. To be free of adult responsibilities.
If we allow this fantasy to take root, we are then a captive to this, the way any addictive mind-altering drug might make us happy too. Those of us that suffered pain or abuse in our own childhoods, those of us with feelings and adult emotions will often carry some of that hurt with us over the years. Then, when we meet a childlike sociopath, seemingly free of worries and typical adult neuroses, we are able to “join in” and experience a type of childlike innocence (a trance that suspends reality) that never suspects abuse, has never felt abuse and carries no more scars of any of our abuse from the past. We are dangerously deceived in this way. We are liberated yet captive to the drug that deceives us this way.
When the drug wears off, when we are discarded, our nerve endings which only knew the childlike euphoria, along with a sexual high must then experience quite the opposite; abandonment, lost self esteem, and all the adult responsibilities we had been alleviated from temporarily.
Imagine when a child is lost or left behind, that abandonment I feel is the same sad state we are in as we were simply caught up in playing a strange game with an even stranger “child” all along. We cry and hurt and feel it is unfair, and indeed it is.
But we are caught by surprise, and it is this numbing and deceptive child-like trance that we are pulled into and have experienced over some time with our S that factors into how deep the hurt is when it finally arrives. It is like suffering a crash without a seat belt on. We are too innocent in our trance to think we ever needed a seat belt.
The healing process
I believe I return to the discussions here at Lovefraud because the pain I experienced was just so unusual. It is self-protective to try to understand what led us here and to hopefully prevent this from happening again.
Sharing here was helpful. I had struggled to make sense of it all, had put down my experience into words, and in the process, my pain was acknowledged and I felt less alone. Thank you Donna for including me. The healing process is not easy nor is it uncomplicated. I still feel some of the pain from this, but month after month, I walk with my head up a little higher.
I still don’t have all the answers and am learning to accept we never will, but the healing this site alone has given me has been enormous. Hopefully the thoughts I am sharing here will be read as a part of my sincere gratitude.
Thank you also for helping me to remember to use a seat belt! As always, I wish all good things for those that read and share in the site, that we each find the gift of deeper understanding and, in turn, peace from this understanding along with a new found grace in how we apply this into our lives each day.
Learn more: Comprehensive 7-part Recovery Series, presented by Mandy Friedman, LPCC-S
Lovefraud originally posted this story on Nov. 23, 2008.
Dear EVolution,
Welcome to LF, I hope your healing path is helped by the articles (knowledge) and support you will find here. Stick around and journey with us on the healing road.
I have always paid special attention to eyes. They tell so much.
My ex was beaten as a child, until he was abt 21. Yet he still had the twinkle of a child in his eyes. I remember being impressed that after all he’s been through, and all he put himself through, that he had such clear, dancing, blue eyes.
He would always insist on paying for things and when I brought it up he said, “It’s only money”, “I make over a hundred grand a year”, “I’m having to be very patient with you about this”, and “You’ve never met anyone like me, have you?” (probably one of the few things he got right). He claimed he was an old fashioned guy.
He’d always shop impulsively too. He’d buy the most expensive groceries – halibut, tenderloin, all sorts of pre-fab and junk foods, and anything his heart desired – same for booze. He always had a small bar on the go and made sure to stock whatever I felt like drinking.
His daughter gets whatever she wants but she isn’t spoiled, she just lacks an awareness. All of her clothes are expensive. By the time she was 8 she had already been to Disneyland twice. He’s buying love and he gets to appear “generous” at the same time. I had a sweater on one day and said it would be nice to have a cashmere housecoat. The next day he called me from work to ask where he could get one. I told him he was nuts, and watched what I said after a few of those incidents. He’d buy everything and we were supposed to tolerate his controlling abuse in exchange.
In the beginning, he would call me 5-6 times a day. He treated me like a goddess. Twice during the first seven weeks of dating he mentioned that I should move in with him or in his basement suite. I ignored him both times and chalked it up to too many beers. By the end of our relationship, he was spying on me, calling me ten times a day, reading my journals from years before he and I got together and yelling at me in front of the neighbour about my dates then. He became insanely jealous – but he was the one having affairs.
So, yeah, he is like a big kid. He has no respect for, and resents authority. He was involved in Hells Angels in his younger years and says he was an explosives expert. He has a pardon for something in his past that he would never tell me about. He is a complete credit monster and now has to sell his home before it swallows him up – the same home he promised we would live in after the court date in April. Apparently he’s about 450 grand in debt (300 of that would be to the “psycho” ex-wife, the rest is credit). He’s now telling everyone that I bankrupted him. I know the money he put into my account over the nine months I lived with him worked out to $500-1000/mth less than what his nannies and cleaners had been costing him. That was his angle too, “You shouldn’t have to work. Why don’t you move in, stop working, and I’ll fire the nanny and cleaner.” Aside from what I thought was a drinking/anger problem, I had no idea what I was getting into when I moved in with him. Suddenly, I was isolated and dependent on him financially. Again, he got to look like the good guy.
That was the beginning of hell. Three months into living together, what was supposed to be a two-week break from work turned into three months of him being drunk, abusive, jealous, and constantly harassing me. He loved to follow me around to argue. If I contradicted him, or questioned him, he would tell me to get out.
He loved nothing more than to tell me to get out of HIS house, on nearly a weekly basis. I wasn’t supposed to move, just go spend the night somewhere else. On the flip-side, he’d tell me he loves me and he needs to get help.
The night he assaulted me I was packing. He called home to apologize for “losing it” the night before. I thanked him and left it at that. I later called him to ask him to bring home some boxes. When he realized I was packing he hung up on me. He was furious that I was actually packing when he got home. It would spoil his game of telling me to get out if I actually left. He had told me to be out at the end of the month, which was only three days away. So I needed to pack. He then told me to get out that night – go sleep somewhere else, and I refused. I needed to pack.
He wouldn’t stop following me to fight and then he snapped when I called him a loser.
…while he was in jail that night, one of his girlfriends called and started yelling at me about lies he’d told her. This was the same woman he’d had an affair with while with his wife – the woman he assured me he was “just friends” with now.
“Hasn’t he been telling you to move for months?” “And, didn’t you screw the neighbour?” I was shocked, but still didn’t realize they had been seeing each other the whole time.
I went for all of his cell records and copied them, as well as numbers from his address book.
I spent 9 weeks being homeless and in shelters, and I’m still not back on my feet, over a year later.
Hi Everyone–
I started a new job this week- intense, intense training– and it is good for me cuz it is a distraction. However… as soon as i am alone again– stuff comes back.
PB– welcome and my heart goes out to you. Your situation and my situation are very much alike. Mine snapped as I was packing as well–
As most of you know– my S (Of a bitch)– used a psychologist to help con me/keep me in his web of lies– gosh– someone just wrote– don’t listen to their words–
you see– going to the shrink with him– his shrink– family appointed– gave him the opportunity to use his words more damn it. I KNEW HIS ACTIONS WERE BOGUS TO HIS WORDS and yet the conned/stupid doc– believed his words over mine– even when I said–“Where is the evidence of his committment?”
I am still pretty much obsessed and livid about this doc not seeing the truth and giving this guy soo much credit. AT the end PB– my S– when he had to discard me– lied to the doc about me doing horrible and crazy things– so that the doc was like–“Yeah– get rid of her!” it was the worst experience of my life.
So I still want to let this doc know. He is totally plowed and has fallen for the words and the tears and the victim stories. Then again– what does he care? He gets paid 250 an hour without insurance. I lost EVERYTHING– including my physical health and attractiveness.
i am starting to think that now that I am calmer– maybe Ishould write a short letter (My God– i want to write a novel to him)– and just send it for cathardic sake?
What do you all think?
I became homeless too PB and have even had to leave my gorgeous, white Akita with friends of mine 900 miles away.
OK Akitameg,
You’ve wanted to write this letter to the shrink for weeks now. Write it if that’s what you need to do. The writing process will probably be cathartic. As for sending it, well that’s up to you to.
You’ve got a very strong desire to write this letter. Just be careful about your own motives. Do you want the hurt the shrink because he contributed to your being hurt? Are you sure you’d feel better after sending the letter for that purpose? Maybe you’d feel worse. Think it through.
What about the job? Is it good so far? How about your new community? Have you figured out where you want to live and when you can get your dog back?
I wouldn’t worry about your ex being able to pull the wool over his shrink’s eyes with a 2nd girlfriend. It’s unlikely the doctor is dumb enough to ignore a repeat of the pattern.
It sounds to me as if you were not the doctor’s patient. It would be interesting to know who the doctor considered his customer to be. Was it your ex, or your ex’s family? Sometimes these things get complicated. You’re undoubtedly fortunate to be clear of the whole mess.
Be blessed, dear lady. I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well. You sound better. I’m betting you’re gonna really love the woman you’re becoming. You survived. Now you’re gonna thrive! Believe!
Henry, how could anybody ever be tired of you being here?
Hugs,
StarG
Hi Evolution,
I’m not sure what you meant about me “putting the worst to all of us” but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you don’t think I’m an evil monster. LOL Welcome to the site!
stargazer – thanks – i have been blogging away for almost 9 months – god only knows what would of happened if I had not found LoveFraud. I read it daily and it continues to help me keep thing’s in perspective. And sometimes it’s just a place to say hello to my friend’s. There have been time’s I felt like staying here so long has kept the (spath experience) fresh in my mind and I just need to move on. Ask Oxy how many time’s I have threatened to throw my puter in the pond….but the simple fact is – the people here touch me with their story’s and remind me daily I am not crazy. Well that would be a matter of opinion but I do belong here – I was involved with the same evil person all of you were…Maybe I have helped a few – I sure hope so…
Henry,
Don’t you dare threaten to discard us!!!!! LOL I don’t regard this site as a place to come only when in crisis and in need of help. I regard it as one of my communities that I belong to. I feel some sense of belonging and also some responsibility to give back. You can really talk about whatever you want here. But then my internet addiction has been in full swing for a few years now! lol
And also, henry, this place wouldn’t be the same without you. You are such a genuine and gentle person. If not for your presence here, OxD may have to take up cooking! (i.e. find another use for her skillet). LOL