By Ox Drover
My best friend has been visiting me and, as usual, when we get together we re-share “old stories” of “remember the time when so-and-so did such-and-such and how we laughed?”
One of those stories was a funny one about a small quarrel I had with my late husband. After relating the story, I had one of those “ah ha!” moments that applies to a lot of things in life.
My husband had a partial plate that was almost impossible for the dentist to get seated so that it did not “flop” and my husband used some of that pink goop that you put under a dental plate to keep it glued down. Every evening when he would get ready for bed, he would go into our bathroom, take the plate out, scrape the goop off, clean it, re-goop it, and then replace it into his mouth.
The pink goop, while wet, was the consistency of chewing gum, but when it dried on the sink, it became the consistency of concrete and I had to practically chisel it out to clean the sink. I offhandedly asked him if he would be sure he cleaned it out well before he went to bed and he assured me he would do so. I saw absolutely no improvement when I went to clean the sink the next time and I became irritated.
I asked him again to please make sure he got it ALL when he cleaned the sink and he assured me he would. Again, when I noticed that there was still no improvement, and now quite irritated, I started to nag him about how inconsiderate he was to make me have to chisel this stuff out of the sink, when it would be so simple for him to wipe it out when it was still moist.
He patiently listened to my tirade then said, “Honey, I am trying, but because it is pink, and I am color blind I can’t see it!”
Well, you can only imagine how small and awful I felt. About one inch high! Of course I knew he was partly color blind, so I should have known he couldn’t see it! His “reality” was not the same as “my reality” because we looked at the same sink and saw different things.
Blind to emotion
After thinking about this story in more detail and more depth, I think that the psychopath is maybe not “color” blind, but they are “blind to emotions” that we can see. Because we can see those things so clearly, we try to explain to them what we think is obvious, and “right before your eyes.” However, just as my husband could look at the sink and only see the “clean white” sink, and I could see the pink globs turning to concrete “right before my eyes,” our misunderstanding was because of the “different reality” that each of us saw.
A psychopath, who is unable to comprehend the “emotions” that go with words like “love” and “caring,” might think. “We are having sex, sex feels good, therefore, I love her. But because sex feels good with others as well, I don’t know why she gets so upset when I have sex with someone else. ”
We would think, though, because our “vision” is different, “we are having sex and the sex is good because we love and care about each other. Because we love each other, we will treat each other well. Treating each other well means we will not purposely do things that hurt the other one.”
My irritation with my husband was because I could see the pink blobs plainly, and I assumed that he could see them as well, and thought he was refusing to wipe them out. In fact, he was making an effort to wipe out the sink, but because he could not perceive them, he had no idea when they were gone, and his only “reality” was that the sink looked clean to him.
Family and friends
I also think this same “reality is what you see” can be applied to our friends and family members who “don’t see” what we see in the psychopath. There is a common thread among victims that “my friends don’t understand what I have been through” and “my friends don’t believe me that he is evil.”
Our friends and family members who “don’t get it” don’t see the same “reality” that we see. They are unable to draw the same conclusions that we draw, and therefore it is difficult for them to believe the same things about the psychopath that we believe. We can see things about the psychopath that they can’t see, just as I could see the pink globs and my husband couldn’t. Our realities were not the same. We didn’t see the same thing, even though we looked at the same thing.
Sometimes though we can see clearly the toxicity of the psychopath, our friends may not. They are sometimes “color blind” to the ability of a psychopath to be the way they can be. They are unable to see, to perceive, what we so clearly see as truth. These people cannot validate our vision, and they didn’t even have a way to know that their vision is defective, like my husband did. He knew he was color blind and couldn’t see certain colors, and because he believed I was honest and had good color vision, he took my word for the fact that the pink goop was there. Unfortunately, most of our friends and family are not aware that their vision is “blind” in this sort of situation. Just as the person who is color blind doesn’t know what color looks like, the person who has never personally experienced the true vision of a psychopath, has difficulty seeing this vision, even when it is before their very face.
We aren’t crazy (though sometimes others think we are!) our vision is REAL and our vision is VALID, and so is theirs, as far as they are concerned. I know it frustrated me for people about whom I cared and thought cared about me, could not “see” what I so clearly saw where my egg donor or my psychopathic son were concerned. I now realize these people cannot see what I see, cannot accept what I have finally so painfully accepted. Realizing that these people are blind in this sphere makes it easier for me to accept that they can’t “see” and can’t “get it.” Just as I had to accept that my husband was doing the best he could to clean the pink goop off the sink, but his vision prohibited him seeing it, I have to accept that those people who have a “blind spot” where psychopaths are concerned are doing the best they can with the somewhat “limited” vision that they are capable of. I also realize that my own vision was somewhat “limited” before the “scales fell from my eyes” and I could truly see the psychopaths.
My vision is my reality. The vision of others is their reality. Maybe those things will never be the same, but it doesn’t mean my reality is not valid. It also doesn’t mean that they are purposely doubting me, it just means that their vision is not the same as mine.
Just like the mythical “vampire” doesn’t show up in a mirror, psychopaths, don’t always appear in their true form in the vision of those who behold them. Just like the soiled sink with its pink globs appeared perfectly clean to my husband, with his limited color vision, psychopaths appear “perfectly normal” to those who do not have the sphere of vision capable of “seeing” them for what they truly are.
Makes total sense, LouiseGolem , but is missing something. How come I cried when I read your post? I think I did love the man he pretended to be. He knew exactly what I was looking for in a man, and there he was. It’s funny, how he matched totally MY idea of an ideal relationship, at least at first. It was not that I loved myself loving him, it was that I loved a dream that for awhile became embodied in him. So, in a way, you can say, I created an Idol. The Idol that had gone crumbling down with whatever dreams, secrets, private hopes and shared desires I bestowed upon him.
They are very kin, attentive, like sponges. (or, should I say like toddlers?) Great memory, and ability to read nonverbal behaviors. Would make awesome psychologists if they gave a hoot about another.
Oxy, I think, said that it is betrayal that makes us so hurt. I agree, but more than betrayal, for me it is the loss of a dream, which was right there, close, almost real… The Ultimate betrayal was to know that it was never what I thought it was.
Delluca – Your not the sociopath. I am not a sociopath. We did crazy things that are sociopathic. I personally thinks it’s somewhat contagious when we are involved with one. If they mirror us and we love the goodness and kindness we are reflecting to them, then when they take our identity, they in a sense become us and we become them. I know that does not make sense, but I did things I never thot I was capable of. It was like a war of love. And at times I was out to hurt him as bad as he was hurting me. I really lost my identity. There was nothing in me but anxiety, mentally and physically I was dying. That was part of his plan. And I wasnt going down with out a fight. I was so embarassed at my behavior. I can remember telling him, I have never lived like this, acted like this, it was foreign too me. But slowly I came out of the fog, the nitemare, and I have my identity back. I am more aware about his kind, and i will never behave like one of them again.
Henry, I think you are so right. they steal our identities, not just mirror us. They want what they don’t have. And they mirror us to get it.
How come I can’t remember any fairytales? I am sure there were plenty about stolen dreams and stolen souls… I am sure they were created because blogs weren’t available and humans wanted to protect their children from the evil ones.
Maybe, that is what we all have in common: we forgot that the boogey man exists and we thought ourselves invincible?
PInow and LouiseGolem,
I hear exactly what you are saying. I fell in love with the knight in shining armor on the white stallion. All he really did was “mirror” what I said I was looking for in a person. For some reason, this kind of person knows exactly how to get in to your soul and read your “needs” and then becomes that person you want. The problem is, they really are NOT that person at all. It’s an illusion. Did I love the illusion? Yes. Do I love the REAL person I found out that he was? No. The grieving that goes on over someone that never really existed takes a long time and HURTS a lot. It IS a betrayal, of the worst kind. I have such relief that the person he pretended to be is gone, though he tries to pull that illusion out now and then. PInow, I can remember looking at my ex P and telling him that he took my dreams. How interesting that you should write that. His response was that if I just admitted my true feelings (which I have and he can’t handle) then the dream would still be there. This P believes you can force another into loving you, it just takes time. Too much time has been taken already! There is NO way that one can live a dream based on a figure that never really existed.
PInow We thot the boogey man had horns and a tail. And if we saw one we would run, never did we think we could fall in love with evil…
Dear Ox,
Reading, reading and reading some more. Can’t get enough of what is on this site.
Funny you should say that, Henry. When I brought P to meet with a family member, she asked me if he has a tail and horns when naked at night. So, some did see them in a true light…
(Until for awhile he pulled one over her too, yeap!, he’s a master)
Cat, I said he destroyed my dreams and made me mature and lose innocence. My lovely, dearest, my trusted P said with no emotion in his face whatsoever: “that’s about time”.
PInow – I had a few friends tell me ‘after the fact’ that when they first met the guy they knew he was ‘not right for me’ and I asked why didnt you tell me then? They said ‘you wouldnt of believed me, you had to find out on your own.’ so true……
PInow,
I understand now. I went back and reread your post.
I too had people ask me what I had seen in this particular person. What is ironic is that these are the very people he’s now won over. I was so head over heels that I passed right over meeting his family and finding out their nickname for him was “Nixon.” Nothing against Nixon, mind you. My exP had it all over him.
Henry wrote…. “So you forgave your husband and understood his way of seeing things. So the P’s live in their reality, their disability? We have to accept they are flawed? Dont hold them responsible?”
I’ve been gone awhile but I had to respond. Ox’s article made me remember a time when, after having a great night together, my exP answered his cell phone (not recognizing the number and thinking it was work) only to sit there in silence while the daughter of the girl he’d cheating on me with drilled him about why he’d blown off her mother. When he hung up, I went berserk, of course, and he had to admit it – there was just no other way to explain the look on his face. What blows me away now thinking about it – and what made Ox’s article hit home – was, finally, after an hour of holding his face in his hands (got caught, poor baby) and listening to me sob hysterically, demanding to know “Why??? Why!!! We have such a great sex life!!! How could you??” was to respond with a helpless shoulder shrug and say, “God, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think it was that big a deal.” Of course, that later turned to “Get over it or I’m leaving! Stop whining” but it IS their reality. It IS how they perceive it to be. In his reality, it really WAS no big deal!
To Henry’s first response, I, too, had a slight reaction to OX’s post of “okay, so they get a pass for this?” But then it took but 3 minutes for clarity to sink in. It’s not about it being a “disability” because, if it was, well, that WOULD be a whole different story. I see it as having to accept that the man you’ve loved all these years is really a cold-blooded serial killer who sees nothing wrong with his behavior. We certainly don’t have to FORGIVE that way of thinking and the only thing we have to ACCEPT – as hard as it is – is that nothing – but NOTHING – will ever change it and, in order to save ourselves, we have got to get out. To me, same thing.
After ten years of hell and confusion and after one solid year of “a-ha” tearful moments tracking his narcissism, I am on my third month of NC. I never thought it would happen, I swear to God, but one day he threw a fit over something and walked out and something in me snapped. I NEVER let him back in (one time he pounded on the door for one solid hour) or picked up the phone (finally blocked all his numbers) or anything. It’s made him absolutely crazy but for all the wrong reasons. It is OVER! I can’t even remember if I’ve shed one tear (which is ALL I did for ten years!) since I had the epithany.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s still rearing his ugly head about once a week – either throwing rocks at my window, calling from pay phones to leave msgs I NEVER listen to, calling my mother and friends (who hate him, Thank God) – but he gets not a single reaction from me or even a glimpse of my face and I just go about my business. Eventually, he’ll move on to his next victim. It’s just that I was soooo easy, I’m sure! But now I’m FREE! Now, I realize that entire days go by without me even thinking about him. I don’t care who he is with, what he is doing, or if he has a place to live. I don’t feel a loss about the last ten years anymore because nothing about it was REAL – it was all a LIE. Therefore, there is absolutely nothing to miss and I am moving forward very peacefully. Life is good without all that intentional chaos and turmoil.
For those women out there who know what’s up with their P but worry that they’ll never let go, you will. Everyone’s time finally comes – in an instant! Thank God.