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.
wini…thanks it sucks having feelings for someone who doest have feelings for anyone, and also caring about someone who wasn’t even real. now my anxiety has come back….
Blondie: I look at it this way … it could be worse, the positions could be switched and we were the ones to NOT be able to love or feel or appreciate life? And maybe, just maybe, this was our wake up call … to make a difference in life, that people matter, that life matters, that we all matter!
Peace …. don’t eat too much gobble gobble today.
I can’t help but relate that I feel sorry for my Psyco on Holidays! He has ruioned all the relationships that he has had and he has no one because he can’t see the error in his ways! Holidays where always the worst because of his behavior he could never go with me to my Family gatherings! He would make me feel guilty because I had people I loved and a Family! He did’nt mind the platers of food though and did’nt mind makeing it hell on me and him self! I feel bad that he is beyond help! Let go let God is my only Prayer! LOVE JJ!
Just think Indi, we can now go back to enjoying people, just for being people, and those people, happen to be people we love … that happen to be in our lives.
Rejoice … oh, that’s a word for next month (tee hee).
Peace, harmony … and don’t eat too much (munch, munch a bunch).
Buddy tuddy!
happy thanksgiving, everyone.
i know there is a lot to be grateful for, but i’m all alone today.
last year, my ex-s/p/n left the celebration at his in-laws house to come over and have dinner with me and spend a few hours so i wouldn’t be lonely for him. i was so happy.
what a difference a year makes.
i know i’m better off without him, but i also know that he’s surrounded by his family and children, and i suppose he’ll then go to see his new gf. he still has the good life, despite how he’s played us all, and continues to do so.
anyway, hope you enjoy the holiday weekend.
blessings to you all.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. LIG, you’re not totally alone. You have us. I hope you do something really nice for yourself today!
Lostingrief and StarG: What ever anyone is doing today, I’m sure folks will be posting in on and off through out the day. So none of us are alone this day or any day to come in the future. Any time we need to chat, we always know we can come on line and blogg with any one of us.
YOU BOTH KNOW WE ARE ALL HERE FOR EACH OTHER.
Plus, Lostingrief … I thought those of us on the East coast were meeting up in the city soon!
Peace.
LOL wini. indeed, anytime any one is in nyc, email me.
i’m doing okay.
i guess i’m just in the ”he’s having a great, happy, love-filled life and i’m not” phase. i don’t much care for that phase!
i went to see the parade this morning. going for a long walk in central park as soon as my 1/2 turkey breast is out of the oven. have some friends coming over tomorrow.
thanks for the pep talk!
star,
thanks.
glad to know i have you great people to talk to when things get rough.
another thing to be thankful for on this day.
I just wanted to post this blogg just because it’s appropriate for the person I am writing about … died last month and I only found out yesterday when I reviewed a months worth of obituaries.
My dear friend Rose lived to a great age of 88. If you met Rose, you would believe she was still in her 30s or 40s. She never aged… never. Anyway, Rose worked with me back in the 80s. Rose was the first to realize what the anti-social personalities were all about in our place of work. Rose stood up to them before anyone would ever dare to think about making a stand against such monsters. Rose was a no nonsense personality (much like our dear Oxy … as a matter of fact, I do believe if these two women met … they would be fast friends). I was lucky enough to meet and stay best friends with Rose. She was honest, a loving wife to her husband Russell, a great mom and friend to all her children and a great great friend to me, as I to her. As a matter of fact, after I bought my house one street down from her home, she called me and said “Wini, I just saw the notice in the paper that you purchased a house around the corner from me … I would have dropped the price on my home for you to buy my house”. I said Rose, your house is so big, I’d never would be able to afford the heating bill (LOL), my house fits my paycheck perfectly. She laughed and understood.
That house … was a 5 bedroom colonial with a huge living room, huge dinning room, huge kitchen … unbelievable. I remember visiting her throughout the years, walking into that incredible home of hers, oil paintings throughout her home, velvet curtains draped in her windows, staircase cascading down to the front landing where an old grandfather’s clock greeted visitors arriving at her home. If you can envision Katherine Hepburn descending a staircase in one of those old days gone by movie trails… Rose would greet me at the door and walk with me to visit with her in her huge living room where a grand piano stood to the left of this grand open space … her chairs were original winged back chairs and her couch was gorgeous, I don’t know what design it was, but it was overstuffed and beautiful. Above her fireplace was a family portrait of Rose in her youth with her handsome husband, adorned by her children as toddlers. What a warm and inviting home she kept.
My friend Rose was harassed unmercifully for years in our place of employment. Those monsters made no bones of laughing at how much pain they inflicted upon her. Two of her co-workers were union stewards … yes Maxine and I. We stood up for every offense those monsters pulled on Rose. I remember one day our boss calling us into his office and insisting that because we were Rose’s co-workers we couldn’t represent her as union stewards … that we were either co-workers or union reps … to take our choice. Without batting an eye … both Maxine and I firmly told our boss …. you can’t tell the union what to do!!
Anyway … all of you can imagine the torment and horror these anti-social personalities inflicted on Rose over the years. And Rose was in her 60s when they did this. Rose came back into the work force after her children were off to college. Rose didn’t need to work, Rose wanted to work. Well of course these monsters illegally fired Rose and the war of the lawsuit was on.
I never had the chance to tell Rose about my ordeal with these same bosses she endure their wrath 20 years prior. I’m sure she would have smiled and asked me in for tea and we would have enjoyed our afternoon conversing.
Rose’s husband’s health failed and she needed to drop her lawsuit to focus her energy on her best friend and partner in life. He died within 2 years of the onset of his illness.
So peace dear Rose, you will never be forgotten … and Rose … those monsters don’t work there anymore! Thank you Rose, for showing me the courage that we all possess. You were and always will be a gracious, gentle, peaceful, loving soul and I will surely miss you.
God Bless.