Why Sociopaths Are So Addictive-Love Fraud Article

I’ve written about the lethality of the psychopath here, in terms of the addictive bond that forms with the psychopath during the relationship.
While I don’t visit Love Fraud often anymore, I still opt in to receive the sites articles in my email. I opened this one this morning and decided to post here for those of you who are just out of your relationship and are wondering what just happened to you.

Love Fraud is a site owned by Donna Andersen, a victim of a sociopath herself. The site is wonderful in that there are hundreds of articles to read that give varying opinions on the sociopath and his/her behaviors. I highly recommend visiting the site for reading.

It’s my believe that the addictive component to the relationship is the most dangerous. It forfeits the ability to see the psychopath’s lethality in the relationship. The addictive component is not limited to the exploitation/manipulation phase in the beginning, but we become addicted to the negative aspects of cycling in the relationship–the abuse.

I’ve been working on a post about the psychopath’s lethality but it’s slow going. I hope to have it completed soon.

Onward and upward

http://www.lovefraud.com/2014/11/24/why-relationships-with-sociopaths-are-so-addictive/

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A Note To M

M,

I’m going to ask that you cease and desist with your emails. Deleting your email and then re-igniting it for further attack will be met with silence and a note to you here that I have deleted your email from my account and so I shall no longer see them.

I’m hoping that you will soon be able to free yourself from your extremely lethal psychopath. Until that time, clarity is difficult and anger misdirected is unacceptable. When you scream for help from others and they listen to your story, FILLED with lethality and pathological dynamic, with the potential of OTHERS getting hurt, it would be IRRESPONSIBLE for any of us not to encourage your hasty but safely planned exit from the situation.

I don’t sign up for helping potential survivors for more abuse. I won’t allow myself to get caught up in the heavy spin that the psychopath creates for his/her victims. In this case, there is enough for many. I’m choosing not to partake.

Here’s hoping you will get the help that you need and that when you are out of the situation, that you will have more clarity regarding others, as well as yourself and be able to face the truth of his lethality and the MASSIVE damage that has been done to everyone around you. There is no one that escapes a psychopath without damage and there is no one that lives with a LETHAL psychopath and has clarity.

I violated my own boundaries in that I will not work with a survivor who is not at least six months out of the relationship. Your behavior is why and a good reminder of why I will not.

I wish you peace and clarity into the future.

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An Open Love Letter to Your Inner Child

Today is my 51st birthday. This is my gift to myself today.

There’s a lot of pain and processing going on in my life right now, so I’ve not been able to write much.

The following link from Rebelle Society was posted to my timeline by a writer friend of mine, who understands what I’m going through. While the article is beautifully written and appropriate for any survivor of childhood abuse, as an adult child of a psychopathic parent, I found it to be most bittersweet and felt compelled to share it here.

I’ve been working on and off on my next post regarding the lethality of the psychopath. I hope to get it done as soon as I’m able, but in the meantime, I hope this post finds you in a place of peace.

http://www.rebellesociety.com/2013/12/09/an-open-love-letter-to-your-inner-child/

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Reminding Yourself That There IS Beauty In The World

Beautiful people

Well, I continue to feel like death as my autoimmune is still wreaking joyous havoc within. Finally, my endocrinologist increased my med, then she turned around and increased it again, once she saw my lab work. Now I feel worse and it’s the highest dose I’ve ever been on.

29 days to my social security hearing and things are more than just stressful and rough now, on top of discovering yet another pathological in my life that has to go. .

Since Friday, I’ve been in shambles about my hearing when I was told I would have to pay for my medical records, again, that I did some time ago. Unfortunately, with two new serious diagnosis, these records are critical to presenting my case, so they must be retrieved. I was shocked at how much the cost is for each record and in my state, provides are allowed to charge $30.00 for the first ten pages, .50 each additional page. To get my records from three different providers, will cost me $95.00 and money I don’t have, plus the cost in gas it will take to get my signed authorization to each facility to get my request going. My attorney needs them now. If you have endured this hellacious process before, 29 days is not a lot of time to get records together in time for the hearing. Each facility is miles apart from one another. My doctor’s office is a 50 mile drive total, my drive to the other two facilities will total, in all 120 miles.

While I’m ecstatic to see prices go down in gas, it’s a ton of money when you do not have it.

I’m very tired from this ordeal. 2 1/2 years now of abject poverty and total loss of dignity in begging for help. If someone has not been there, there is no way to understand how humiliating, exhausting and excruciatingly painful this really is while you wait, worse while you’re sick.

It’s hard to find beauty in poverty, especially when the circumstances that surround it, is the damages left from lifetime exposure to psychopaths. I relive my trauma everyday, through deprivation, terror, hyper vigilance and an overwhelming depression that can take me down readily. My perceptions are skewed, the pain is very real, as are the panic attacks out of nowhere, something happening lately that I find to be very frightening.

Still, there is beauty in the world. A kind and compassionate note, “Thinking of you”, a phone message, “Hey. . I know you’re very sick right now, just want you to know I’m praying and if you need anything, call me, I love you!” But those most precious to me, come from my grandchildren, “Grandma, YOU are SPECIAL!” , “I LOVE YOU GAMMA!”
Nothing like it when it’s said by a three-year old. PURE beauty. . .

But it comes to me in other ways, too. Just when I need it sometimes. Today, was out of a friend of mine on Facebook. I have few friends on my list. I like my FB to be few and more intimate, people I know, love and trust. So I vent a lot there. Most of the time, I’m ignored, but as a writer, it feels good to just write it all out and for the most part, my friends know this about me and I don’t take offense. They just let me be me. BEAUTY. . .

Today’s ‘vent’ was serious though. I’m needing to pull every bit of energy into what I feel like is the right of my life. A fight for my life. The medical records were killing me inside. HOW am I suppose to do this? A friend of mine snuck and copied/pasted my post anonymously to her timeline and asked for donations for my medical records. I was shocked. THAT is beauty.

I’ve spent a lot of time, beating myself up over things I have no control over. It’s awful to feel that I have no control over what happens, other than to do what I’m told to do, to get my case together and to manage that with no money and no energy due to my autoimmune flare. I’ve spent a lot of time beating myself up about my limitations,which are the most frustrating to me. I try not to think too hard about from where it derives, because that would keep me from seeing any beauty at all. While I know I have to embrace all of me, including the times that don’t include the most positive of emotions, anger is the most uncomfortable for me and a huge trigger, whether I direct it at myself, or if it directed at me. Psychopaths have a lot of rage within, where it comes out violently or whether it’s more sadistically subtle, yet twice as damaging, it seems to be forever present in them, hence the feeling of walking on eggshells…

I do not want anger to take me down, to blind me to beauty.

What my friend did for me today, was epically beautiful. As soon as she posted, there was a $25.00 donation sent to me to help cover my medical records. I was ecstatic, but as there usually is when I receive a donation, incredible guilt and overwhelming shame. . .

My friend, catching on to that, this feeling of guilt (she has endured this process with social security, so she knows) within me, reminded me of the giving I have done with my work. I don’t see it this way, as it’s something I love doing, and even though I’ve not been  writing lately, my private supporting goes on everyday. It doesn’t feel like enough sometimes, to me. I’m not doing enough. “You take care of others, now you need care, it’s your respite time and if you don’t have faith right now, Kelli, I have it for both of us.” So I told her I was leaning on her now….just for a time.

Beauty. Beautiful people show up when you need them the very most.

But I need to remind myself that there is beauty in me too. And in reminding myself about that, I’d thought I’d come here and remind you too.

You’re the beautiful people. Try to embrace that and when you’re feeling up to it, pass it on. Someone else might need your light shine!

Onward and upward.

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Just Know That Everyone Feels Broken Sometimes. . .

Broken

Ever feel the above sometimes? If this is you today, you’re not alone.

My son is now going through a break up with a Narcissist. It has been very painful for him. Sometimes he’ll share that the pain is so bad, he feels he can’t breathe. It’s hard to see my child in pain and my heart aches for him, but I know it’s necessary and so I choose to be there for him when he needs to share his grief. He’s also shared how ‘down’ he feels about platitudes given that suggest he needs to ‘move on’, ‘get over it’, ‘there’s a better man out there for you’ etc.

And so I shared with my son: “You MUST feel your feelings, embrace the pain as tightly as you do your joy when you play your piano or sing, because BOTH are part of the human experience and if you listen to others, feeling that something is wrong with you for feeling grief, politely shy away. I’m sure that they are all well-meaning, but it’s not about your pain, Son, it’s about their discomfort with your ability to openly feel and share it.”

I continue to remind him, that while it’s also okay to feel and embrace his grief, that all of it is an effort to learn about himself. I believe that validation of pain and the depth of it is so critical to recovery. It’s hard to validate ourselves when we’re in the midst. My son mentioned that he feels the sun will never shine again in his heart. But I reminded him that his ability to love and his ability to grieve, IS the sunshine in his heart too. It’s a reflection of how deeply he felt this love and that he is capable of it.

Even a bit of joy can be felt when your heart is hurting the most, simply because you can feel it. And while the broken feeling hurts, it’s important to understand what a true gift this is because the disordered can’t and never will.

I have been very ill lately with an autoimmune flare, so I’ve had to be extra vigilant with rest and trying to keep my stress levels as minimal as possible right now, so I’ve not been able to write much, even though my internet is safe for now, other things are not, and so it’s one day at a time, one hour at a time, for me.

Having said that, I do check in with the comments and approve them before they can be seen and shared with everyone. I’m troubled by a couple of them, one that did not make it on to the blog.

For those new to my blog: my posts reflect stages of my recovery. I’m a survivor of multiple and chronic abuse trauma related to psychopaths. They are my parents, grandparent, three ex’s and many past friendships. I come from this perspective ONLY. My blog is NOT for professional review. I will NEVER ‘pretend’ that I’m some sort of guru. I am not. I am not a professional and have made that clear, as well as my views on that, even more clear, about my writing. I’m a HUGE advocate for therapeutic intervention and those that read my blog thoroughly, know this. I think it’s wise to point out, however that there are also many professionals that are disordered themselves, as well as ‘gurus’, survivors turned life coach/unlicensed therapists. I do know a few survivors who are life coaches and, I think, are very good at what they do, but they also give disclaimers in that they are not professionally trained therapists.

As with anything you read, or any therapist you turn too, or any life coach, it is buyer beware. I would not suggest that my blog is the best, nor that it has ANY professional implications to it, about myself. If the blog triggers you, I HIGHLY suggest that you seek another that fits your needs. It’s important that wherever you derive support that you are comfortable with it and that it feels healthy and right for you.

Next up: I often receive comments blasting me in the assumption that I’m a victim blame. It’s one sentence taken out of context of a certain post, or that this person has not read the entirety of my blog. If you have questions about it or are making an assumption, please read a little more of the blog before you write something that will never see the light of day here. I’m up for respectful disagreement, but not pot shots, as they are triggering for me too. Please remember that I too, am a survivor, I’m still enduring my process and that there are some things that I react to immediately and that won’t get on the blog. Insults in the form of blasting, hurtful things attacking me personally, or personal jabs won’t be allowed here.

There was a time in the past, early in my recovery, during the “I am woman hear me roarrrrr!!! stage, when I engaged in victim blaming. When a survivor comes to the blog and starts out with one of those posts first, guaranteed there is a comment to follow about what I am and am not. I’ve often thought about removing many of my old posts, but I think that would be somewhat perilous in that it WAS part of my process. Please take note of each post you read and when it was written. As I continue to evolve, much of what is left, is actually BEHIND me. But when the comments are written, it becomes very clear that the survivor read only that post and not any other and therefore a lot of assumptions are made on views I no longer adhere too. 

And because this is a process, I expect that as time goes on, I will evolve a bit more. .

I hope that this finds you well if in joy, comforted if you’re in pain, and validated just where you are in the process right now.

Onward and upward.

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The other shoe

theabilitytolove:

I love this blog. When I’m writing and want to take a little break, this blog is what I read most. It’s run by a dude named OM, and his blog Harsh Reality, is filled with wit, sarcasm, love for family and well….some HARSH REALITY. Anyway, check it out sometime soon!

Originally posted on HarsH ReaLiTy:

And then the other shoe drops. Honestly if there is some giant boot of doom stomp on me now.

View original

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Recovery Will Take Awhile. . .

One day this pain will make sense to you

    It may take awhile. You may hurt for a very long time, but as you look within and process, focusing more on yourself, the pain of HIM/HER will lessen in time. All the lessons that we need to learn, come from pain.

And that’s hard to say, while in pain too.

I’m hopeful. . .

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The Aftermath- KEEP GOING!

I wish for you..

I’m experiencing crisis in my life and am not in a place to write something substantial.

But while I still have the intrawebs, I saw this and thought of all of you, either suffering in the throws of discard, still in the relationship, trying to figure out how to get out and survive at the same time, or well on your way into recovery, struggling or thriving. . .

KEEP. GOING.

XXOO

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My Beautiful Family…

 

My Granddaughter Kaili    My beautiful daughter and IMe and my girl        Kira Anne  Nicole and Katiline Josiah and Kendra My son JOsiah playing guitar for Kendra                     Christian modeling pictuesMy boysAdam on the drums  Family pic         IMG_5150Our silly cat CrackersMy girl with her squeaky heart.

My grandson Landen and my granddaughter Kira

My beautiful family above…all six of my children, my three daughters are the eldest. Two are now Mommy’s. The pic of Mom with the sunglasses on with the kids and theirs are my second child, Kaitlin, and my grandson Landen, and my granddaughter, Kira.

And our silly pets, Crackers the cat, Ms. Marley and her kittens (but are re-homed) and my doxie Sassy.
The family pic is of my son Christian on the right, me next to him, my daughter Kate and her hubby Brandon with my grandchildren and my son Josiah, is in the front.

The pictures above those are of my three sons, eldest in the middle, second son on the left and my youngest on the right. My son playing a song for his sister. My second son, Christian during a photo shoot.
The pics above that are two eldest daughter, Nick and Kate. Next to that my eldest son and youngest daughter, Kendra.

The pics above that are my granddaughter Kira watering the flowers in my garden with me, and the other kisses for my new girl the day I got her.

The top pics is my granddaughter Kaili on the right and my daughter Kate and I

I love my family and just wanted to share them with you. It makes this writer, maybe just a little more real…..

Onward and Upward

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Removing The Claws Of The Predator From Your Soul, Is The Greatest Act Of Love For Others

I think this may be my last post for awhile. I’ve written I think all I can about the romantic relationship with a psychopath. That part of it has become frustrating to me now. There is only so much you can say about the psychopath before you can’t say anymore, unless we want to talk about recovery or other important areas of psychopathy that matter to us all, not just in the romantic relationship.

I may also take the blog down for awhile and have not decided upon when. But I will be sure to let you know. This would be for the purposes of my book that I’m working on and would only be brief.

I feel a shift is needed in my life, focusing more on recovery, then ruminating. I find myself in an interesting place with all of this because psychopathy has played a significant role in my life, and while I’d like to try to run from it, I can’t,  yet I can approach it in a way that is healthier for me.

I’m also feeling somewhat resentful about it because it is a lot of work, both writing and supporting and I’m not paid to do this, and while I love it and am very passionate about it, it would be nice to be compensated for what I do. Donations come on occasion and they’re helpful when they do come, but it really doesn’t do a lot for me financially and right now, I’m drowning in my poverty with bills coming due and pets to feed and I’m very frustrated with my limitations too, while waiting for a hearing, which is now set for December. I”m almost there, but not close enough. I don’t want to be in a place where I resent my work, but where I still love it as much as I do now and always have. I do wish I had the credentials and training to offer survivors a true professional to help them recover, but I still have 18 months left of school and that is not going to happen, at least not now anyway. With only 2 months left till my hearing, I’m hoping I do not lose everything before then. It is an extremely stressful time for me.

So, having shared that, right now in my recovery, I’m dealing with the damage I’ve caused to my children while in my relationships. While there have been many, many efforts at amends and healing my relationships with all of them, the consequences of what they lived, have now shown up in their own lives. This causes me great pain and overwhelming guilt. This is another ‘fun’ part of recovery you will experience, if you have children and have made the brave decision to work on yourself, this will be undoubtedly, the hardest part if you love them.

And there will be nothing more ‘in your face’. during recovery, then to watch your children suffer because of your poor choices. I want to rescue mine, all of them, hold them tight and wait till the storm passes. I want to be catapulted back in time, with the awareness I have now and start over again. I’m one of those parents people often whisper about behind my back, “Well, if you couldn’t afford them, you shouldn’t have had them!” I think I’ve heard it all now. It’s hard not to internalize it because of the guilt and sadness I feel about it.

Money was not the problem when I was married to my ex husband, but psychopathy was. Alcohol was, drugs were, physical, sexual and emotional abuse were. Money does not change psychopathy. So ‘mother’s like me’ who opt out of being abused, are often opting out on financial stability and a system and society that can’t help but BLAME the victim when it comes to the true responsibility and courage she is showing, even with all she doesn’t know, in that she loves them and that poverty might be a bit better than sodomy committed upon one of her children. Even if I didn’t know about that at the time. I did know the abuse. I wanted more for them, for me, but instead, I went with fantasy, and brought on ten more years of hell for them and for me.

Isn’t it interesting in thinking about the deviancy of the psychopath vs. ruminating about Prince Charming? A guy whose deviancy is so beyond our knowledge that his abuse of our children suffered at the hands of PC, is the ‘gift’ that keeps on giving, generation to generation in the form of trauma and subsequent choices made in life? I prayed beyond praying that my children, knowing how damaging and destructive (putting it lightly) psychopaths are, that they’d have internalized this knowledge in a way that would prevent the likelihood that they would choose what mother had. Apparently, this may not always be the case.

I have a 31 year old daughter and she is my eldest child. Born at 1 lb 13 oz, with afterbirth weight loss that took her down to a pound and a half a week later, 24 weeks gestation. I hadn’t even had the chance to get stretch marks. She was born prematurely due to a huge long medical term/condition that I would not come to understand until many years later. I felt it was my fault so I didn’t ask, as seeing her this way was brutally painful and traumatizing to me.  My husband and I were just 19 year old kids at her birth. We married two months later. She was a preemie because I had a body wide infection that was ‘attacking’ my uterus. The doctors tried to stop my labor and I had an amnioscentesis with fluid that looked like a cross between advocado to neon green. Anyway, after 4 1/2 months in the hospital, I brought my 4lb, 12 oz daughter home. Heart monitors, infant CPR, diapers so small, they had to be ordered from a special diaper maker, feeding out of 2 oz bottles every two hours..but so grateful she was alive and the bonus was that she was healthy.

She was a happy, extremely ADHD child, with the volume turned up at around the age of three. I did manage to get into a parent class that helped me huge in dealing with the problems a preemie child might face. She was an active, sweet, very funny and brilliant child. She was very creative and use to love to draw and I’ve saved many of her first drawings. One was entirely in charcoal pencil and that piece was done in high school and was chosen to appear at two local art shows. I was very proud of her, but I saw the pride in herself and the overwhelm and humility at being so recognized for her talents. She was academically ‘gifted’ and she was an excellent student all through high school and graduating with honors from University.

Of all of my children, this child has me the most guilt ridden and sad. I was very sick in the pathological dynamic with my ex predator, on top of being ill from fibromyalgia, we thought (as it turned out it was autoimmune), and I made my daughter a ‘mother’ in running her ragged to take care of her younger siblings. This went on for a few years before she went to college. I wanted all of my children to go. They could choose where, but I really wanted them to graduate and go to college. My daughter was terrified to leave home, but at the same time excited about her new phase in life. I cried for two weeks. She cried for fifteen minutes, because once with her friends, she was having a ball. But to be truthful, part of my sadness was that she was leaving not just because it was college or her friends, but to get out from under the stress I caused her, as well as the pathological dynamic going on with my predator. She knew who he was from the start and hated him. “Mom, he’s a Narcissist!” I had NO IDEA what she meant, although when she said it, I did research a bit more.

My daughter loved college and graduated with honors. Just prior to her graduation, she met a man that didn’t register well with me. She met him on CraigsList. My daughter was still a ‘virgin’ at the time and I taught my children well about sexuality and being safe when they became sexually active. I told them that they never needed to be afraid when it came to talking to me about sex or birth control and that I would provide it, if necessary. They were well informed. Education in my household was critically important to me. No matter what it was, whether reading, writing, math or  life.

The man she met was her first sexual experience, that resulted in an STD for her. She was curious about sex as she had not ever engaged in it prior to meeting this man. She was 25 at the time. She felt she didn’t want any commitments because her career was more important to her. I did everything but beg her NOT to go the CraigsList route and to wait, if she could because sex is overrated anyway and I felt her worth much more than that. I felt CraigsList was dangerous. This was scaring the hell out of me. My daughter is academically brilliant. She is also highly empathic. Very kind and loving to everyone, a liberal at heart and this was so out of character for her. She felt (like many women do), that she could have a sexual experience without emotional involvement. I shared with her how silly I felt that was because she was highly empathic and sex without emotional involvement is a story you tell yourself, but is one that does not turn into any form of reality. I went into sex as bonding and that men use this against you, if you chose the wrong guy, a predator. She truly struggled with this decision and had college friends who added a little pressure to her in that she needed to have this experience at least once.

The inevitable happened and sure enough, there was emotional involvement… for her. And when she got sick because of her STD the first time, she found out he knew, but didn’t tell her, then BLAMED her for having gotten it. She was a virgin and we all knew that it wasn’t so that this man was blatantly lying to her. From then on out, he became her ‘partner’ and during the time, prior to her moving in with him, he played games with her emotionally. I knew this man was a psychopath, yet I could not say it. I was shattered inside for her. This experience would alter the course of her life. The isolation from family, the changes in behavior. I hated this man, but I hated myself too because the damage I created, was subconscious for my children. Naturally, they’d be vulnerable to psychopaths, no matter what they knew, because children learn what they LIVE and they had lived with two psychopaths in their lives.

The child I once knew, is a stranger to me now. The psychopath ripped apart her values and morals she once lived by. This man is a religious zealot, this is the mask he wears, and her isolation so severe, that the brainwashing began to cause her harm, as well as our family. He is a religious extremist and uses it to judge and hurt others. He began to weave a web of hatred that found its way into my daughter’s heart. She began to change significantly. Such as it is when you’re in relationship with a psychopath..

One day, my eldest son (who is gay), wrote to me in distress. “Mom??? Did you see what *my sister* wrote on her face book??? MOM!!! Why???? This isn’t my sister! It’s hurting me!” I do not have her on my facebook because of the vile that she posts. And this time, it was about ‘homosexuals’ and gay marriage in our state. She looked as a fool. The many friends she had, even those in college, who knew her to be loving and kind and tolerant, tried to be kind in sharing that they did not agree. She was now his megaphone. But the hurt caused to my son and her continued justification for the post was astounding to me. I wrote to her and told her how upset I was about her causing pain to her brother. “What’s happened to you? I’m at a loss. . . I didn’t raise you to hate….”

“No, Mom, you didn’t, but I’ve grown up.” “What? What about hating others and posting vile like this, is about LOVE?”

I had a discussion later that day with my son. “You can’t change how she perceives things right now, Son, so you have every right to take her off your face book if her posts hurt you.”

The vile continues. She continued to tell me during my conversation with her how homosexuality is wrong, tossing text and verse my way. Admittedly, I became very angry. “This isn’t about your brother, this is about YOU, my dear and the reality that your pathological boyfriend has you so brainwashed, the values of love and compassion that were taught to you are GONE. I can’t be snowed, I know where this is coming from and why. I’ve BEEN there, so when you’re pathological boyfriend dumps you, I’ll be there for you and love you with all of my heart, but will not tolerate this kind of vile and nor should your brother.”

We still speak, but rarely. She can’t do it without a sentence uttered that cuts down a minority group, the poor, and LGBT. It hurts my heart in a way I can’t describe. I end these conversations politely. I do not respond to the vile. I see the things her pathological boyfriend does that says he has complete control and that he ENJOYS the separation of our family. There was one time I saw this man alone, when I was in my daughter’s town for a visit. She was not home. I knocked on the door, and saw the psychopath’s face through the window, as he was hiding beside the window, but didn’t see that I could see him. So I continued to knock. With no answer. I knew he was inside and as I was getting ready to leave, after tiring of knocking and he thought I was gone, he stepped outside to have a cigarette. When he saw me, I saw the look that I’ve seen so many times in my life before: the dark eyes, the rage, the CONTEMPT. “She’s NOT here”…

I just got into my car and left. He did not tell her I was there. I did not tell her I stopped by. Seeing me alone, he had no reason to be polite. The facade was gone. And I felt completely frightened for my child. A deep sadness had set in.

This psychopath is a dangerous one. Sadistic, cruel. He told my daughter that he would never marry her, but was open to dating other women. They ‘broke up’, yet live together ‘as friends’. I asked her if she was still sexually active with him. And she said that she was. Isn’t that fornication? My daughter’s life is going to waste. She is extremely overweight and has no self confidence. He has beaten her down. She has had some health problems, similar to mine. She posts on her FB that she is exhausted, emotionally and physically, working her ass off at a corporate store, making little. She once told me that another man would not want her because of her STD. She is a reflection of his brainwashing and her lack of confidence. A partner of a psychopath. . .

While I can do nothing to ‘rescue’ her now, I look at her situation and see my damage in her life. A thousand times I wish I could go back with all of my children in time, and right all the wrongs. It’s hard not to cry, when I think about it, when I see them hurting. The guilt is unbearable at times. Letting go of her choices, of who she believes she is, when she is not, has been heart wrenching for me. She has a careless attitude about the family. She avoids me, not because she doesn’t love me, but because she knows she cannot justify her relationship with a psychopath and everything vile that comes with this. She cannot justify her hateful attitude.

I love my daughter deeply. And it’s clear that psychopaths ruin lives. Each time I talk to her, I tell her I love her, although I wish I could say so much more, in trying to reach her. My child is a beautiful human being inside. The seeming lack of empathy in merging with his dynamics, is temporary. I pray everyday that the relationship will be broken. But I fear, because she lives only for him.

I guess I wanted to believe that my children would be free. I wanted this more than anything. Throughout my recovery, and in sharing about it with them, I’d hoped that they would make choices in their lives that were not my own. They know about psychopaths and the irony in that my daughter hated my last predator, calling him a “narcissist’ is missing in assessment of the man she is with now. For everything that he is, is eerily similar to my ex predator, right down to exploitation of faith and pathological religious zealousness, full of hatred and contradiction.

Taking responsibility for the damage that I caused, knowing I cannot reverse it, is so painful to me. I remember their childhoods. Missing the fact that my son was sodomized by this own father, is reflective of my fraudulent fantasy. “He would do lots of things but NEVER that!” Why wouldn’t he? He’s a psychopath. My last predator had ‘eyes’ for my second daughter. She said she felt ‘creeped out’ every time he looked at her. There were several times during the relationship as his own daughter was ‘developing’ physically that he made comments about her that were highly inappropriate out of a father for his child. It sickened me, but I blew this off too. To psychopaths, young girls AND boys are just as much prey as adults. The psychopath’s deviancy is not limited to his adult partners, but often their own children or that of others.

The harm and damage I caused my children is real. It lives on in their choices. And I have to live with that the rest of my life, and struggle to find peace in the midst of watching hell play out for them in some way.

Sharing this has been extremely difficult. It’s an area of my life that still needs healing. And despite all of my extremely poor choices that harmed my children, I love them deeply. They deserved so much better than they had with me.

There is a part of me that becomes defensive when I hear stereotypes, stigmas and other painful assumptions about my experiences, my poverty, my being a single mother and trying to do the best I could, when now I know it was far from good enough. In part, those stigmas apply to me. The defensiveness is the hurt in knowing that some of it is true. To put a glowing picture to my damage and the subsequent damage to my children is wrong.

I share this because I discovered that ruminating is a trigger for me. While I know it’s an inevitable part of the process when the relationship is over, I also know that the Prince Charming that is ruminated about, is stunningly evil. When I was ruminating about him, I was not thinking about the damage to my children, let alone anyone else in my life that I’d hurt while in the relationship. We can be deeply empathic, but the pathological dynamics are those that are very sick in nature. The countless times I’ve heard from survivors, “I NEVER would have done the things I did if I were not in that relationship!” are undoubtedly true.

Our alignment with the psychopath is a reflection of the pathological dynamic as almost a contagion of sorts. If we had no real ‘self’ no sense of boundaries, no self esteem, no solid concrete views on morals and values, it is easy to see how we can ‘merge’ in a way with the psychopath, his views, his faux morals and values, buried deep in deviancy, not in truth of principles. But those of us with empathy, have a better chance at seeing this vastly faux presentation of ‘principled’ individual of ‘good character’, as a fake, as an illusion. Where at first, we were mirrored through manipulation (love bombing), as the psychopath professed to believing everything we believe, through brainwashing and psychological mass mind fucking, we slowly lose whatever foundation is there, whatever was truly us and exchange it for the psychopath’s deviancy. This happens without even recognizing it and as my daughter did,  just as I did, we justify its merger as ‘change’ within ourselves.

Being realistic about this, in such a deep and profound way, shows me more of who the psychopath really is, as well as the claws of evil clutched within a survivor’s soul.

My childhood, my soul, was stolen by evil. It could not have been (only my opinion) anything other than GOD that showed me I owned my own soul and to survive evil meant I often had to shelve my empathy and compassion in submission too deviant behavior, while riding the winds of relentless, yet fraudulent fantasy. Sitting in the ashes of the wreckage of years of psychopathy, I’ve barely made a dent in my own mess. There is progress, but there is so much more left to clear.

Oftentimes, I find myself sharing with survivors, ‘If you can’t get out for yourself, get out for your children.” They are our next generation. Whatever patterns are set early on, is what will be released into society later. My psychopathic parents set me up to be woefully and poorly prepared for life, causing extensive damage, not only to me, but to my children,  and my life in so many other ways. It cost tax payers, hundreds of thousands. But the cost to my children, was the most expensive, emotionally and financially. I have poverty, I have pain, I have children who are hurt.

I often feel that the pain caused to my children, results in the karma I now live. I have no right to expect anything and they had the right to expect everything from a healthy mother. I pray that my continued efforts to heal, despite the wreckage upon which I still need to clear, can still set an example to my children who are all grown now. I do not believe that change isn’t possible, but it is so much harder the older a child becomes.

I hope that in sharing this part of my story, will help survivors still ruminating. That if it helps even one awaken from the psychopath’s fraudulent illusion, and saves one child, even ONE child from further damage and pain, then it’s worth it. The regret and the hurt never go away when exposure to the psychopath steals another soul, if that soul is your own child. Children learn what they live. Look at the beautiful faces in front of you that are truly your heart, because the predator wants to destroy them too.

I’ve often wondered if I have the justification for writing, when it’s clear that my issues are present, my recovery still unfolding. I often feel I need to be fully healed in order to make my experiences somehow justifiable, that as with any fantasy, this is what happened to me, this is what I did as a result and now I’m so happy and my life is filled with promise, that there IS an end that you CAN fully heal…when in reality, I’m still sitting among the ashes of what has been a turbulent, painful life. In reality, my sharing is only small, not a grandiose expectation of infamy or the fantasy of a book gone best seller, and a bank account overflowing. I’m not a professional in trauma, and therefore my support is very limited. It seems I’ve been so much better at connecting with survivors, not because I’m trained in a field that I wish I was, but simply because there are few places where psychopathy has not touched my life in some profound way.

The parts of my recovery unfolding are those of a woman who is facing the damage caused to others, especially her beloved children. A woman who has had to take a very realistic and painful inventory of her life. It’s so hard not to want to revert back to fantasy, to pretend that my life is somehow filled with peace, while enduring the most stressful and painful of circumstances. Pushing through the damage I’ve caused at the same time, still enduring the ugliness I created with my choices, and praying for a miracle, to a God I’m not certain even exists anymore. Through it all, I keep telling myself to move forward, just to keep trying.

I would rather be real with you about the damage, about the process, then sugar coat it in another fantasy. And in doing so, I hope it opens another heart, provides another epiphany, moves a survivor to leave, helps a survivor realize that he/she is ruminating over evil. Over deviancy.

I think of the time I spent in fantasy over the last predator and in getting out of the relationship, believing that I was missing the greatest opportunity of my life, all the while, six faces staring at me, afraid because of the pain I was in and could not hide.

I had a relationship with a predator that started a relationship with alcohol. One day, while outside on my back deck, ruminating, crying and drinking another glass of wine, I looked inside to see what my children were doing. And what came back to me finally registered. The ruminating and the fantasy were over, replaced with reality. All but one of my children was present that day. I looked at their faces, again looking in my direction out of the corner of their eyes, but pretending to watch tv, as my tears continued to flow between sobs and when I picked up that bottle of wine, and poured yet another glass, they all turned their heads toward me, watched as I poured and the SADNESS…….the God awful SADNESS…..sent a surge of reality through me. I immediately stopped crying, my tears turning to anger. I stood up and threw that bottle of wine off the deck. And I never touched another glass of it.

In that moment, years and years of pain that I caused, was seen through THEIR EYES.

I decided that it was time to get serious about my recovery. I’d done so many things to avoid it, even thinking those things were good, but they were all about ME and not about providing safety, comfort and LOVE for THEM. In reality, there are not enough I love you’s, not enough I’m so sorry’s, not enough of anything that can undo what has been done. My recovery is important, not just because ME ME ME, but for those whom I’ve hurt.

If you cannot do it for yourself, do it for them. See your predator for who he/she really is. Understand that what you see, is not the half of what you will ever know about them. Your engagement with a psychopath is a free pass for them to cause harm, not only to you, but to those who mean the very most to you.

Onward and upward

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