By Sarah Strudwick
It’s just coming up for three years now since I wrote Dark Souls, in the hope it would help other women who have been though the same as me. In January 2010 I kicked out my psychopathic ex after uncovering a string of lies which included working for a job that never existed, feigning cancer, multiple sexploits on the internet, and advertising his services as a sperm donor. The list goes on.
Over the last three years I have worked tirelessly to get myself out of debt, educate others and, more important, heal from the abuse. Yet up until a couple of months ago, this person continued to stalk me. I’ve had to change my phone number three times as a result, and I lost a fair amount of business along the way. Whilst I now deal with it in a matter-of-fact way, I always assumed he was stalking because he hadn’t found any new narcissistic supply to keep him busy.
A couple of months ago an ex acupuncture client saw me a in the supermarket and asked why she couldn’t get hold of me for an appointment. I explained I had changed my number and directed her to my website.
Distraught text message
In my optimism, since things have been reasonably good for a few months now, I decided to put the number on my site again, Then voilà —a last week I was amazed to receive a very distraught text message from my ex’s current victim, asking me if I know him and when was the last time I slept with him. My first reaction, since my ex has gone under a number of different guises pretending to be other people in order to keep contact with me, was, “Is it genuinely her or him?” I decided to go on Google and look up the number, which took me to a website he owns.
I was tempted to respond with a comment like, “I’d be more concerned not about ‘when’ was the last time I slept with him, but how many other people he has been seeing during the time they have been together?” After all this is a man who sleeps with “anything,” whether it be women, men or transvestites. But I suggested he or she could call me if they wanted further information. I received a text back saying, “He’s with me now; I can’t talk.” The following day, the number was disconnected.
It goes without saying I was somewhat intrigued as to why she may have contacted me after so long. Although I had evidence about his “sexploits,” there had never been any substantial evidence he was in a “proper” relationship with anyone else apart from me. I was also intrigued that no sooner had I put my website number back up, she called me. I wondered whether he had tracked me down via the internet and used a bit of “torture by triangulation” in order to see what a reaction he would get from either of us.
With that in mind, curiosity killed the cat and I called the number.
The new target
I was shocked to discover that not only was this new target young enough to be his own daughter, but he has had two children with her, in the time we have been apart (one of whom whilst he was with me).
If there was ever a reason not to play “detective,” this had to be one of them. Also, knowing how keen he was to plant his sperm in any women that would be willing to take it, I felt sick seeing the smug look on his face as he smirked holding his new babies. I decided to give myself a big, big slap round the face for even bothering to look. It just goes to show how words and promises mean nothing to them. We should never play detective, no matter how much we have been triggered.
The last time my own family saw him, he had taken my teenage kids out to see “Twilight.” He was telling them how much he loved their mum (i.e. me), and was really looking forwards to sorting himself out and starting a new family with us, since he had left his “horrible” wife. However, I realise now that at that time his new target would have been well and truly pregnant. This probably explains why he wasn’t around at Christmas to support me whilst I recovered in hospital from an internal bleed from an operation. My own daughter had to cook the family Xmas dinner. When he finally did turn up, it comes as no surprise that I kicked him out a few days later in the New Year.
The Disposable Family
I believe psychopaths view their families are utterly disposable. This is a man who had two beautiful, lovely children from his first wife. They are under 10 and still need a father. I assumed he would continue seeing them whether we had had a family or not. However, with the ability to re-invent themselves at the drop of a hat, it comes as no surprise that he has a brand new family. It also doesn’t take rocket science to figure out that it’s only a matter of time before he messes up again. Even worse, and to add insult to injury to his poor first wife, he’s called one of his new children the same name as his son from his previous marriage!
This new woman would not have been able to get my number unless he had searched for it. As I said earlier, I took all phone numbers off my web sites for months. My guess is he’s either already on his way out, and wanted to shift the blame by putting both his current target and myself in a position when if his new partner were to leave him, he could then blame me for “spilling the beans”.
What’s even more interesting was that he would give his poor new, soon to be wife my number. Perhaps it was in order to triangulate and get her all upset. It’s the same as he did to me when he tried to push me to the point where I would tell his own “bitchy” wife that he was having an affair.
Either way, I doubt this woman will contact me again. He’s probably told her the same old sob story about his ex girlfriend being a bitch. He told me his wife was the problem.
Not my responsibility
Despite feeling sorry for his new target, it’s not my responsibility to take on her problems. This man has messed up again. Until he takes responsibility for his own actions, and grows a conscience, it’s only matter of time before he re-invents himself and starts another family all over again.
On a positive note, in January 2013 I celebrate three years being psychopath free. Whilst it’s hurtful to find out that he’s got a new family, I thank my lucky stars daily that I don’t have the legacy of having a family to raise from him to remind me of him.
If I would give anyone any advice after this recent discovery, is that it’s only a matter of time until your ex, or one of their many victims, will turn up again like a bad penny. Whether it’s three months, three years, or 30 years, it’s just one of the many ways in which they try their hardest to remind people (no matter how much you have moved on with your life) they will continue to do their best to remind you they are still there lurking in the background. It may be giving your phone number to new partners, or for whatever reason or making you feel responsible for their new victims. Either way don’t bite, don’t engage and most of all, however hard it is, don’t play detective ever again.
Oxy,
It just doesn’t seem to stop. I ruminate all the time.
Recently, I’m realizing how much I ruminate because I can’t seem to find the correct key on my key ring. I stare at them, for several seconds. They all look different so there isn’t any reason why I can’t differentiate them, but I realize that I’m just not able to focus. When it happens, I always think of what you said about having to quit your job as a nurse because you knew you wouldn’t be able to focus and could end up killing someone.
If I can’t find the correct key, I totally get how you would be worried about caring for patients.
Where are my keys? Where is the remote? Why did I put the hammer in the fridge?
Where’s my brain? It was just here a minute ago.
oh my.
Skylar,
AT first after the aircraft crash that burned my husband to death and burned my son and two friends, I literally could not read any more. I couldn’t hold 2 numbers in my head long enough to punch them into a telephone, much less 7 numbers…I could watch the same movie 2 days in a row and not remember the second day that I had seen it the day before…but my doctor told me it would get better….and SLOWLY it did get better.
Now, I am at a “normal” level again as far as memory goes…and yes, I do forget some things,…. where are MY keys? LOL But I have learned to adapt by making lists and writing down things instead of depending on just my memory alone.
What you are describing Sky, is normal behavior for HIGH LEVEL OF STRESS FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME….or for VERY HIGH stress over a shorter period of time, i.e. PTSD or a dissociative response. It wouldn’t be normal for you to NOT have an abnormal response to an abnormal situation. LOL
I know I am NOT as “sharp” as I used to be, I still have some “word finding” problems where I just can’t think of a name or a word, though I can “see” the image in my mind, I can’t get my tongue to come up with the word. It will usually come to me in the middle of the night! LOL
AT first when I REALIZED how much of a “problem” I had it drove me bananas and I was FRIGHTENED that I was losing my mind, but eventually I came to ACCEPT that I am not crazy, and I’m not delusional, and I’m not senile, I’m just DIFFERENT than I was before the plane crash.
Just like with my injury to my Achilles Tendon on January 13th this year. The tendon was RUPTURED and I “should” have known it….and when the muscle started withering I SHOULD have known the doctor was WRONG when he told me it was NOT ruptured, but I didn’t contest it until several months later….and sure enough, I was right, but I didn’t have the CONFIDENCE in my own diagnostic skills enough to go toe to toe and nose to nose with the doctor when I thought they were wrong. In the past, I have never had that problem and I have done some SERIOUS battles with physicians over what I thought were poor or bad diagnoses….and actually I saved my husband’s life once and my egg donor’s as well by being willing to do BATTLE over a bad diagnosis by a physician. And physicians are just like RNPs or lawyers or anyone else, they make mistakes and I’ve made my own share of mistakes, so I’m not doctor bashing here folks, but just saying how I am not as self confident, even on my own care, as I once was, and it takes me longer to make up my mind about things or to “see the light” on something. Fortunately, I have a great internist and I trust her judgment as well as her honesty and integrity.
Thanks Ox for the inspiration.
Yes, skylar: I am doing all I can “TO” forget
but ppath just won’t stop the antics.
I guess sooner or later, like Ox says,
we’ll adjust. Water always finds it’s level.
I can relate to your ‘out of focus’, ‘out of body’,
thing skylar – it’s been like that for me a couple
years now and I will be so glad when I can just
forget it all. PPATH makes that difficult when the
jerkwad keeps intruding!!!!!!
Guess I will get to a point, sooner or later,
that I just flick it off, like shooing a fly out
the door or window…hm? Sure hope so!!!
Dance’s with Moon: did you see it?
The full Wolf Moon.
Dupey
Oxy,
What I’ve determined is that my brain is just busy doing other things: thinking about spaths. That’s why I can’t figure out which key is my car key and which is my house key.
I wish I could just understand it once and for all and forget about it. It needs to go into the auto-pilot area of my brain so that I don’t have to process it anymore.
Except I can’t seem to get to that point. It feels as if there is more to be learned because otherwise, I’ll never be safe.
Skylar:
“Of course, now I know that he was having sex with men and I’m sure the prostitute sold him to them.”
When I first stumbled upon my x-spath’s online trail, it was at dating website that had “matching questions.” He had nearly 1000, including “would you date somebody who was a former sex industry worker.”
To “match” better with him you needed to answer yes.
Need I say more, not only about him but fuel for rumination?
I know, for myself, the ruminations have been the most
difficult part of all this. It’s stifling and I don’t understand
it…not really. After all of this, I don’t even LIKE this puke.
How could I still be trapped inside these ruminations, like this?
Of course, the intrusions, now and then, helps to inspire
more torment and anguish – that’s why they happen, you see?
The after bombs. All thought provoked. Games of the mind.
THAT is a true predator.
skylar: There is no understanding it, once and for all.
How can we ever understand their twisted minds and logic?
I don’t even have the acceptance nor patience to ATTEMPT
understanding “IT” – I don’t want to understand “IT”;
I don’t HAVE TO understand “IT”, all I need to understand is that
“THAT” is not normal nor a very ‘safe’ kind of person to be
around. All I NEED to understand is that my life is not safe
around this person, at no time, no way, no how.
That is all I need to understand.
I don’t walk around peeking over my shoulder anymore,
like I used to and I am grateful to all of the people who have
my back around here – but, I refuse to live my life in the shadow
of a psychopath. Period.
They are just horrid people who play and prey upon others
for whatever they can get. They have no remorse nor con-
science and consider themselves ‘great’ and ‘powerful’ because
they can consume other people’s souls. It is entertainment for
them to see someone’s life explode at their hands.
That persistent rumination…
I thank God, every day, that I wake up,
for my lexapro. Seriously. Without it, I
shudder to think what it would be like, right now….
I SHOOK and SOBBED for almost two years.
Bad enough, I should have been in a hospital
but I rode it out at home. Without medication,
for the most part. I think it’s dreadful that I
have had to resort to medication to deal with
the ‘side effects’ from all this and I feel, since
my heart attack, like a walking zombie.
But: I can promise you one thing,
“IT” is banished from my presence
and survival is of paramount importance.
sky, i think cow’s ruminate to dont they?