I don’t spend a lot of time writing about ”˜what happened’ while I was with the sociopath. What happened cannot be changed. What can change is how I treat myself today. What I do today to create the beautiful life I deserve. In that process, I write about the triggers from the past that sometimes erupt and their impact on my life today. I find too much ruminating over what happened in the there and then affects my here and now. It holds me back from living each moment of my day with joyful abandon.
Recently, however, a producer approached me about taking my book, The Dandelion Spirit, and turning it into a movie.
Wow. Cool. Weird.
Love it, even though part of me is scared it’s just a joke. It isn’t true — vestiges of the sociopathic encounter that would have me believe the world is not a safe and loving place.
In acknowledging I deserve my success, I have to participate in the process of making my dreams come true. The producer has asked for more details about some of the things that happened. He’s asked me to write them out. Not that the story needs more drama — I mean really, what could be more dramatic than an encounter with a sociopath? Every moment is filled with the angst and drama of the shifting sands of reality stirring up terror and fear in every gasping breath. Every day is replete with the drama he created to keep the veil of confusion sealed around me. The drama was part of what I became addicted to. It was part of what kept me ensnared in his unholy embrace, gasping for air as I drowned beneath the trauma of loving him.
It isn’t that the story needs more drama, but it does need specific moments that reveal the subtle manipulative mechanisms he employed to keep his Prince Charming mask in place.
And so, I’ve begun the process of writing out some of the events that I did not write about in The Dandelion Spirit. These are the events that were so painful, so numbing, so humbling that I have avoided looking at them — until now.
It’s been an interesting, not to mention surprising, process. Surprising because, some events still remain sensitive to light. Touching them hurts. And yet, in the process of writing them out, I let them out, I let them go. I cast light upon the shadows and release them to the past. In writing them out, the pain eases and I breathe more deeply the fresh clear air of gratitude and appreciation in which I live my life today.
The momentary pain of re-living the event eases as I face the sadness of having once been ”˜that woman’ back then who was so abused. Writing them out is good for me.
As I write, it is imperative that I remind myself — that was then, this is now. I cannot heal what I do not acknowledge. I cannot change what happened, nor the past. I can change its hold on me today.
I was hurt in that relationship. Deeply wounded. I fell hard. I fell fast. I fell.
Today, I am not that same woman who pleaded endlessly with ”˜her man’ to please forgive her for”¦.. Fill in the blanks. I asked him to forgive me for breathing in the end, for taking up room, for being part of his life. I spent most of my time begging for his forgiveness, all the while never acknowledging, forgiving him was not necessary — stopping his abuse in my life was.
In healing, I have let go of forgiving him — he doesn’t matter in my life today and forgiving him is for me, not him. In healing, I focus my attention on me and forgive myself. I forgive myself for holding myself in that place where he had permission and the latitude to abuse me. For lying to myself, for continually lying to the world as I tried desperately to pretend I was okay, that everything in my world was alright — that was a lie. I knew it then. I acknowledge it today and forgive myself with a loving heart.
In writing out the events I’ve never been able to speak of, I give myself permission to heal those areas of my heart that remain pocked with the pits of that time when I gave up on me and gave into a man who I believed had the right to abuse my love, faith, hope and trust.
It’s hard work writing out some of these events — but it’s good work. Healing. Soothing. It makes me joyful. For, in the writing out, I let it out and when I let it out it no longer hides uneasily in darkness within me.
In writing it out, I give myself permission to step into the beautiful light of my life today, freely, lovingly, completely. In writing it out, I acknowledge, what he did back then is nothing compared to what I am capable of doing today when I stand without fear and look into the mirror of my eyes and say, I love myself exactly the way I am. I am free.
Thank you. I know my plan on doing life is much different than most, but I’ve been able to prove my theories through my children. I consider them my fruit and I, with God’s help, was able to impart truth to them. But I’ve lived in such a way that I can give an honest account of my life. No surprises. As I read all these accounts I’m finding that I really wasn’t alone in my assessment of what I was told I just imagined. I kind of wish I could have had my day in court, but I’m finding as I live and breath, the truth keeps opening to me, and what I thought was, really is. Isn’t truth grand? It took me getting hurt very badly, and having my trust exploited, but I’m so much stronger and wiser. So what if I don’t have someone to share life with, I have me and that counts more than having a man who only wants to use me and my resources and give me nothing in return. I’m responsible for me and they are responsible for them. Equality. Finally.
I feel the need to clarify something. I in no way meant that ‘he’ would not be worthy of God’s grace – yes, even the unworthy can receive God’s grace. I suppose that all I was trying to say was that I manage to find a little comfort in the fact that, one day, he will have to stand before God and face up to his lies. One day, the smirk WILL be wiped off his face. He will meet God face to face, and he will know what he did to me. I have to know that, because the hardest thing for me to deal with has been the fact that he will finish out his existence on this earth without being remorseful, or even GETTING what he did to me. This man was my best friend for two years. I thought. I shared every intimate aspect of my life with him – at his request! – we worked together, laughed together, and fell in love. I thought. The day that being with me was going to cost him, he threw me to the wolves. He took every confidence I had shared with him and he used it against me. He told horrible lies about me. He went into complete reptilian-like self preservation mode. The pain that he heaped on me was not even a consideration. It was about him. I’m too tired right now to say the rest. Another day, perhaps. Apt/mgr., in spite of the pain, or anger, you may hear from me – I don’t hate either. Don’t have it in me. Don’t even have a vengeful bone in my body. Have petty thoughts here and there, :-), but that’s the extent of it. One day,maybe I’ll share my story – until then, I am thankful for what I have gained from this website. Happy Holidays.
Enlightened
You obviously believe God’s words. I find comfort in them and they have been the main part of my healing. I prayed for truth and I got it. More than I ever imagined. When things were really rough, the put downs, the belittling, being devalued, on and on, I would think of Christ’s words on the cross when He prayed for God to forgive them because they didn’t know what they were doing. I have to wonder just how much these kind do know. Do they walk in darkness and that’s why they can’t feel what we feel or even have remorse for their doings? I don’t know, because God says who can know a man’s heart or any humans heart. We are known by our actions, and people have been acting for centuries.
I’ve learned to keep leaving it at the cross for God to take care of it. I’ve become cynical, yes, but I still have compassion. I went through the resentment stage, but the only one who was miserable was me. I read a quote that said, unforgiveness is like drinking poison everyday hoping the other person will die. I know in my heart I didn’t cause the turmoil. I processed my part of the whole relationship and I’m ready to push forward. We are all creatures who want to share life with someone. God said it’s not good for man to be alone. But I would say that God didn’t intend for man to treat woman like he does or vice versa. We should be able to trust the one we give our love and bodies to, but their heart is blocked off. I know in my case, the weird started after sex kicked in. Once we started having sex, as in my husband, and the lack there of with a male friend, that’s when the awful started. Everything was fine up to that point. Lots of talking, comradery, real communication, etc. After the sex drive was in force, something drastic happened. My husband was nice to everyone but me. Lots of double standards that weren’t there to begin with. Frankly I just don’t have it in me to care anymore. If any of them have demons inside, they have to figure it out. If they don’t ask for help, then they just have to live with themselves and function however. I’m just glad that God brought freedom to me, to finally function without them. My life is much more peaceful.