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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