The future depends on what we do in the present..

This is kind of an attempt at continuing my thoughts from my last post. I went in a direction that I didn’t really intend, but I still hope someone finds it useful and helpful.

This quote, which the internet attributes to Mahatma Ghandi, is one that takes most of us years to learn. For some, it takes a lifetime. Our choices matter. How we treat others, matters. How we allow others to treat us, matters most of all. It’s how we respond to bad treatment that will dictate how we, our children, our friends and peers will react toward us.

I can’t speak for everyone here, but I for one thought I had a long time to settle on a life ambition. I had a lifetime to “do” and to “be”. I spent most of my younger years, placating abuse and the abusers. In the meantime, time was passing and I didn’t see it. Time is precious. Life is precious. YOU are precious, as am I.

If we placate abuse and or the abuser, what will that create for the rest of our lives? More abuse. When the abuser is our child, that enables THEM to continue to abuse. Placating that child doesn’t mean (at least in my case) that I turned a blind eye. It meant I could see no way out of the abuse. I had a duty to my child, to raise her the best that I could. My daughter was so “over-the-top” with her perceptions of life, and of others around her, she could not see the big picture surrounding her role. She was unteachable and Incorribible. I would ask for help from several sources, including my parents who told me, “Mine are grown”. That was the extent of the pearls of wisdom I would glean. I was entirely on my own. Perhaps I stopped asking too soon? I’ll never know. I resigned myself to that life. I would still try to discipline and correct her, only to be hit or kicked again. At one point she spit a loogy on my back, hacking it from 5 feet away. I was stuck in “mom” role, and stuck in “victim” role at the same time. I went from being at a loss of what to do for her, to being entirely afraid of my own daughter. I still had a duty to her, to make sure she was “taken care of”.

I never lied to anyone about her behavior, her tendencies or her potential-good or bad. But I didn’t stop her, either. I thought I had done all I could do. Short of knocking her ass out, I did everything I could think of, to help her. To help me. I remember a time that for a while, I was afraid to fall asleep at night out of concern of being killed by my own daughter. There comes a time when you have done everything you can, prayed as much as you can, and when nothing works, you learn to “deal with it”. In doing that, I wasted away. My daughter wasted away, into the vindictive psychological tyrannical being she has become.

I was molested as a child. I believe it started when I was 7, but I really don’t recall how old I was. I do know it ended when my family moved to a neighboring town. I was, then, 14 years old. It went on for years. I was soon, old enough to say something. To DO something about it, yet I chose to be silent about it. I should have fought for myself, simply out of knowing I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t. It continued. He was able to continue in his disorder and pedophilia, while I was placating the abuse and abuser. Trying not to offend. I knew I wouldn’t be believed by my parents if I said anything. I didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings either. It was just easier to be quiet, believing it would be over soon. Fact is, it was never over. It just changed faces, years, and days, yet never ever completely ending…

Abusive husbands, boyfriends, peers and parents. Teachers too. I stayed silent through everything. Placating abuse and abuser. Enabling the abuse. I was part of the problem, though thinking I was protecting myself from the aftermath of speaking out.

I set the playing field for the rest of my life, and ultimately, the life of my daughter.

Then, enter my year with the Psychopath. He destroyed me, or so I thought. Damage was there. I would never be the same again. I’m still under the effects of that time, though becoming healthier by the day. The unseeable and undiscernible happened, instead. The part that wasn’t obvious in that experience was that the slate had been wiped clean…sort of. He broke me away from myself. He shattered my foundation, whether that was a solid foundation that was healthy, or a disordered foundation. I was completely broken from it, left to redesign myself, my life, my beliefs and perceptions of others around me. Of how I would react to any input or threat to me or my family.

In order to ultimately become healthy, that NEEDED TO HAPPEN!! I just wasn’t open to the fact that I just might not have had a healthy view of myself, life or others, before. I walked into that relationship, believing I was just “fine”, then leFT it as a pile of smelly, gooey goo. Not at all “OK”.

I walked away from that time totally paranoid, shattered and broken. But I also walked away with the knowledge and basis I would need to renew and rebuild my life. In a sense, he allowed for a great thing to take place inside of me. I would NEVER recommend this type of process to anybody. I had to be shaken from my core, in order to really see what I needed to.

What was the cornerstone that I used to start rebuilding? The thought that “no one will ever EVER treat me like that again! I will NEVER go through THAT again!”. As time went on, I started noticing certain behavioral parallels in my own life. I looked into the past, and noticed some interesting things that I hadn’t noticed before. The initial approach by abuser + my silence and allowance = abuse. We will always be approached by someone who is only out for themselves, choosing us to use as a means to an end. Why did I allow the abuse? I doubted my own feelings, intuition and discontent. I didn’t call a duck, a duck. A sick man, a sick man. The more I visualized what I could remember of my own life, the same patterns showed themselves. The future I allowed for, then, is what I’m dealing with, now. I created my own present, by placating abuse and abuser, and refusing to stand up for myself.

I learned to change my responses to mistreatment or obvious attempts at manipulation. I speak up now. As I have had to do recently, with tears flowing as I write, I cut another abuser out of my life. She cannot hurt me anymore. I’m afraid for my granddaughter, as I am probably the only stable person in her life. She’s already showing signs of dissociation, at the young age of 5. I can only pray that God bring her to me, and protect her until then. Given the opportunity, I will not hesitate to fight for her. I will always fight for her.

The story isn’t over, yet. There are still blank pages of our lives that need to be written. How do you or I want that “book” to be written? Do you want it to include more abuse, whether that be from a colleague, child, lover or work-mate? Or do you want a happy existence? Where you are respected and admired? Where you have room to respect and love yourself?

I haven’t given up on my daughter. I’m just choosing to end my part in the cycle. I will always love her. I will always be a Mommy to a beautiful, curly-haired, blond little girl…who as a baby, refused to sleep. Who was always so energetic and full of emotion… who’s hair stood straight up, looking like a brush, and so thick that it would break adult-sized barrettes. Who was full of laughter, studying the lights around her as a baby. Who I will always love.

Pretty girl, you will always be in my heart and prayers…


Life after the Psychopath…My experience was a good thing??

I am absolutely dumbfounded, as I sit here. I hate to call that “relationship” a good lesson. But, it was. I hate to think that some things that have changed in me as a result, are actually GOOD! Should I thank him for changing those areas?? Oh, HELL NO! The fact remains, however, that without that experience, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Someone I should have been, long ago.

Gandhi-quotes-The-future-depends-on-what-we-do-in-the-present-quotes. My daughter isn’t the nicest person around, on a normal day. Though, sometimes she can be sweet and thoughtful. She has been abusive toward me for many years. She’s always had anger issues, from the time she was a young child. At 3, she slammed the bathroom door so hard, she broke it THROUGH the door jam. Yep, 3 years old. I tried to discipline her, make her work to pay for what she broke, etc, but nothing ever changed her tendencies. She had been tentatively diagnosed as bi-polar when she was 13. It was tentative, because she was still too young for a clinical diagnosis. That age is at 15. The psychologist prescribed lithium to treat her. She refused to take her medicine, and would become verbally and physically abusive toward me, when I would try to force her to take it. When she was in grade school, I asked for help from the school. I wanted her to be evaluated for ADD, or ADHD. She was and still is a very violent young woman. Their findings were that she was (and is) highly intelligent. Higher than average IQ. That’s all they tested her for.

When she was a young girl, she would act out. As a single mom, it was really hard to take. I tried to ask her sperm-donor father to help. His reply? “You wanted this, you deal with it.” She would make me so angry, I was afraid I would hurt her if I resulted to physical restraint or spanking at the time. I would put my hands behind my back and step back away from her about 3-5 feet, each time. What that translated to, to my daughter? I could be bullied into backing down.

She is manipulative, and a compulsive liar. She is one of the “entitlement generation”. Narcissistic at best, bordering (if not absolutely) Sociopathic. She blames me for everything that happens to her, even now. She reminds me that I kicked her out of my home at 14, which caused her to get into meth amphetamines. She uses her daughter (my grand daughter) as a tool to get what she wants from me. She has bullied me into staying quiet in my own home, when she verbally &/0r physically assaults me. I continued allowing her back in to my home, when she showed no sign of ever changing. She has several assaults on her record, starting from when she was a young teenager, and a few in her adult years. Most were charges from assaulting me. Many times, I just holed myself up in my office, messing around on my computer. This didn’t stop her, but it gave me something to focus on until it was over. She is currently in jail for the same thing. I called the police when she started escalating. I don’t want that life anymore. She threatened to take my grand daughter away, and never let me see her again. She has.

A few days ago, I came home from work. She doesn’t live with me, though I allowed her to store her belongings in my basement. I asked her to allow me to use my Granddaughters disability check, so I could send her to daycare while I worked. She told me, “no..I need that to get into another place”. She said she would watch her at the park while I was working. That meant 8-12 hours a day in whatever weather was occurring. Rain, shine, extreme heat… I didn’t like that idea at ALL! I was concerned for my Granddaughter’s welfare. We talked about my daughter watching her at my house. I knew how that would turn out, as I have had her living in my home before. More of the same…verbal assaults, because of the simplest requests from me to her. Like, “I need help finding my towels”. I told her we would try, and if it didn’t work out we would have to find a better alternative. It didn’t work.

She had been doing 6-10 loads of laundry here, daily. I calmly told her that if it was going to be a regular thing, I would need her to pitch in a little, to help with the added expenses. She went off on me, “You’re my MOTHER! How DARE you suggest that?!” and “I’m homeless! I don’t have any money!!!” She always has money for cigarettes. Then the verbal onslaught. “You f’ing *C*! Bitch!….” and it continued. She left in a huff. The next day I informed her that this arrangement wasn’t working and I didn’t want her here.

I have always been calm. I learned early on, how to defuse situations by intentionally keeping my voice level, not raising it. Talking instead of yelling. I instinctively went there that day. She took the verbal barrage outside, making sure the neighbors could hear how she was being “disrespected” by her “abusive” mother.

The next day, she showed up to watch my Granddaughter again, while I went to work. I came home to a total mess. She never picks up after herself, goes through my things to see what she can take, etc. I had been missing my new towels. I had to re arrange the piles in the kitchen and living room so I could walk into my own home. she was asleep on the couch (though she was awake when I walked in). I was irritated. I said, “would you please help me look for my towels, so they don’t get mixed up in your things?” She ignored me. “[] would you PLEASE get up and help me look? Then you can go back to sleep.” It started again, the verbal barrage…”I’m HOMELESS. It’s next to impossible for me to sleep in the f’ing truck, you f’ing bitch!!”… I ignored her, cleaning my kitchen. She got in my face, yelling at me…calling me more names…threatening to take my granddaughter away from me. I calmly said, “Ok, you do what you need to do.” It continued. I continued cleaning my kitchen. She escalated even more, and I asked her to get out of my house. “I’ll leave when my laundry is DONE!” I replied, “No, you’ll leave when the door closes behind you.” It continued. I called the police, still ignoring her. She was still cussing when I was on the phone with dispatch. “Where is she now?” me: “Do you hear the yelling in the background?” dispatch: “Yes, is that her?” I said, “Yes”. Dispatch: “Has there been any physical assault?” I said: “No, not yet, but that’s what she normally resorts to.” Dispatch: “I have dispatched the Police who should be there shortly.”. I said, “Ok.”

My daughter was busily hauling her stuff out the back door, still screaming at me, yelling obscenities. I continued cleaning. I asked her if a little notebook was hers, as I was going to wash the table. Next to it was an outlet adapter, which she threw at me, breaking open my hand. I called 911 again, “It’s now gotten physical. I want her out NOW!” She went to jail, once again for assault. There was a ‘no contact’ order placed, during her court appearance the next morning. Since she hadn’t had a new charge against her in 2 years, they let her go on her own recognizance. She left the jail, and proceeded to come to my house. She was seen walking down the hill. In court (as I was told by the advocate), she asked for a civil-standby so she could get her things, without violating the no-contact order. She violated it immediately, without waiting for the civil-standby. I watched her through my window, until she came onto my yard. I called the police again. She’ll be in jail until her next court date, I think. I went to court appearance for the violation, and requested that she be psychologically evaluated and treated. I don’t have legal custody of my Grand daughter. She had a friend come and take her out of my home. I’ll be lucky to see my buttercup again.

Not because I did anything wrong, but because I refused to take “it’ anymore. My plan that night was to stay quiet and see what she would do. I gave her the opportunity to give up the verbal barrage, knowing full-well that she wouldn’t. I decided when it started, if she escalated then I would have the police remove her, or force her to leave. I did. She did. In handcuffs.

Normally, my first reaction would have been to try and talk to her, then going to my “room” for some sense of peace. There has never been any, with my daughter. I knew her threats. I thought to myself, “I’m done being bullied.” “This is not how I want to live the rest of my life.” I couldn’t allow it anymore, come what may.

My daughters mental/emotional state just breaks my heart! I love both of my kids. I would do anything for my children, if they are trying to better their situations. If they would fight for themselves, taking steps to better their situation, I would carry them until things were better for them. My youngest daughter is full of excuses as to why she’s in the boat she’s in. It’s my fault. It’s her x-boyfriend’s fault. It’s the state’s fault. It’s because of her daughter’s health….she takes no responsibility for it. She has no plan to fix it. Only the plan to get hooked up with someone else, to mooch off of. Until they can’t take her anymore, and leave.

I had to make a difficult decision. End the abusive cycle, and lose my granddaughter as a result, or allow the abuse for the rest of my life. Living life that way is no life at all.

I ended our relationship, and lost my Granddaughter. For now.

coming up on 2 years…Lessons learned and trusting my gut

I remember the day when I looked at my X-monster square in his eyes and said, “I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep from becoming YOU!’ He was constantly and consistently trying to create a very paranoid me. Trying, unwaveringly, to change, dissuade and negate everything I believed in. Every thought and view I ever had. He always had some reason to test my “knowledge” about a certain subject. I would be quizzed to test my current views, only for him to tell me how wrong I was and why his views or opinions were better. If a conversation ensued, he would change the subject in a completely off-the-wall way, donning an angry tone and/or demeanor..”I don’t want to hear shit about your x’s!” Yep, just that way. No reason for the flare-up, nor were any of my x’s being mentioned in any conversation. Or it became something that he would use later, as ammo. He was and is a very astute student of the human condition. Human behavior. Manipulation, using these natural behaviors of Humans. Those whom he can only imitate, and never fully understand.

“I’ll fight tooth and nail…” The thing is, in order to protect myself, I HAD to learn to think like him. I had to do that, in order to be able to see his schemes being implemented or planned. In order to predict what information or situation he could use to discredit me to others…again, for no discernible reason. I can say that 85% of the time, I was able to prepare myself for the proverbial bomb, or cut him off mid-stride, all together. 85% to 90% I was RIGHT! In learning to think like him, I was also conditioned into a paranoid thought-process. I actually was right about his schemes, or at least knowing that he was up to “something’. The ability to keep from being blind-sided from him was minimal at best. I was able to stop myself from being blind-sided quite often, but he was still able to catch me off guard. By the time I realized what he did or what he created, it was too late.

In some regards, I became like him. I now listen to what is said to me, and am able to discern lies much easier. I catch on to the red-flag moments without fail. In a way, learning to think like him has been a god-send. The difference between him and I… He is disordered (a very clinical variant of a calculated, evil individual). He uses these “skills” to dupe, destroy, condemn, and manipulate others into becoming their own downfall, for his benefit. For me, I use these same skills to protect myself. Period.

I second-guess others’ intentions, now. That, is something i most definitely HATE! At the same time, however, it’s just this type of thought pattern which allows me to see other disordered individuals in their true light. I don’t mistake the subtle manipulations. I don’t miss, really, anything. I don’t just dive into the thought that EVERYONE I meet is disordered, Narcissistic or Psychopathic. I let time be the judge. I watch, listen, take mental note and come to conclusions. In some instances, I don’t want to believe the obvious.

Here’s an example… I have been seeing someone for a few months. I was guarded when he and I started talking. So much so, that I believed I would be stuck like that for the rest of my life. This individual had been asking me out for coffee for quite some time. Each time he offered, I refused. A little later, I agreed. We spent time together as friends, without the ability to let my heart go. Unable to take that chance. I still agreed to breakfast, coffee, walk in the park, and the occasional phone calls. Then one day, he said something that worked for him. My heart dropped the protective barriers. I thought I found my long-lost soul mate. I will say that there were several things that were said that were, “Wow! How was he able to find THAT?!” Songs that spoke to my heart, long ago. Certain phrases from movies that tugged at my heart, years before..even into my childhood. Even so far as singing the same exact song to his children when they were born, that I instinctively sang to my grand-daughter as a newborn. He touched on dreams that I silently wished for, for years. You get the picture. I dropped my guard. It was if my very heart left me, and went to him. I felt it go.

This gentleman is a Salesman. More specifically, he is the District manager of sales. He’s skilled at manipulating for a sale. He’s skilled at patience and persistence. He’s charming, funny, caring and successful. He wants to succeed and usually does in any chosen direction. It shows. He’s also very cunning and highly intelligent. When pursuing me, he was kind, patient and a complete gentleman. When I said, “No, thank you” he replied, “It’s ok. I’m still here.” then he would walk away, giving me time and space. He would approach me again later, with the same request. Very sweet.


He’s also a terrible liar.

Once at a particular restaurant a few weeks ago, I was really depressed and down on myself. He looked into my eyes, saying, “I love looking into your eyes.”. He no more than got that out of his mouth, then dropped his gaze to a pretty waitress’ rear-end, watching her walk past us and across the room. It was ridiculously obvious. I went silent, which bothered him. He asked what was wrong. I finally told him, “It was just the timing”. I explained what hurt my feelings, but didn’t accuse really. I wasn’t angry, he just hurt my feelings. He instantly lied, 4 times to my face, “I was hungry and wanted to see if she had our food”. I told him The male waiter had already brought our food. “I didn’t see her.”…REALLY?? “I don’t even know what color pants the waitresses wear”… he has been to that same restaurant 100 times before. Then there was the final lie, which is the same one that people stuck in a corner resort to, “I don’t recall…”. What would have been a momentary bump, in which I needed his understanding, turned into so much more. After all, he asked. The fact that he lied (and still does) made that time that much worse. It turned it into a trust issue. With his job, I have to trust him. In order to be able to do that, he has GOT to be honest with me. I let this one go. To a point, though not forgetting how he made me feel and his chosen action.

Another time, now about a week and a half ago, we went out to sing Karaoke. While we were out, we ran into a man who is in charge of a business in town. We both knew him and invited this guy to sit with us. The conversation turned to particular alcoholic beverages. A trashcan was mentioned. This is a tasty cousin to a long island iced tea. LOTS of alcohol, and one lonely red bull. My boyfriend bought me one.

I’m a lightweight. A serious lightweight. I don’t drink very often, and never very much. (Almost never). I was drinking the trashcan very slowly, since I knew what it would do to me. I would become one very drunk woman. The other man chose to be nice and bought me a second one. I told my boyfriend that I really didn’t want it, as I was already buzzed from the 1/2 that I already drank of the first one. He acted like he understood. Pretty soon he noticed  the second one was still sitting on the table. “You’re gonna drink that, aren’t you?” I told him I would, but would be really taking my time. He said “Ok.” I don’t know how much time went by, and he chose to talk to me about it again, “Are you going to drink that?” and “After all, he DID buy that for you.” It bothered me, but I drank it anyway. I didn’t want to make my boyfriend look bad (that’s what he made me think would happen), and as I already knew it would to do me…I was 3-sheets. The next morning my boyfriend and I were talking about that night. He reminded me that I played air-drums and kept a good beat while drunk. I was embarrassed. He said, “don’t worry, I’m not mad at you.” I INSTANTLY told him, “You have no reason to be mad at me. You pressured me into drinking it, even though I didn’t want to”. He recanted and said, “I know. It was partially my fault, too…” A couple of nights later he let me know how stupid I was to get that drunk. I know enough to call this one… RED FLAG, RED FLAG, RED FLAG!!! I let him know that I would never allow anyone to buy drinks for me again. Not even him. I would buy my own drinks from now on. End of that problem.

A few days ago, I got temporary custody of my granddaughter. It’s been very stressful, moving my daughter and her boyfriends’ things into my basement for safe keeping. They are living in a truck, now. I had my own mini breakdown. I quit smoking back in January, and my man-friend knows it. He also knows of my health issues and that smoking is a death sentence for me. He started bringing up cigarettes. He’s been out of town a lot lately, and sometimes in areas that cigs are much cheaper. He has been telling me how tempted he’s been to buy me a pack, trying to pressure me into “smoking just one, to take the edge of the stress off”. I have consistently told him, “No, please don’t do that.” The conversation turned into why I haven’t smoked, still. I told him my #1 reason is that it would break my mom’s heart if I started up again. He asked, “What about after she dies?” I told him that it’s open season, then, and if I chose to I might. He said, “no matter what I think about it?”…as if I hurt him by considering smoking again at a later date. He’s been trying to pressure me into smoking!!!!! I let him know that, too! Again, RED-FLAG, RED-FLAG, RED-FLAG!!!

I’m thinking I have a full-blown Narc on my hands! Last night he was over, and we were playing with my Granddaughter, outside. Her disease is flaring up again, and breathing is difficult for her again. She was getting real winded, so I told her we needed to go inside. He piped up, “Grandma, let her play outside more. Let her be a kid.” a minute later he says to her, “It’s time to go inside to rest up!” Nothing had changed with her. She hadn’t gotten any worse. He undermined my authority, and chose to make it his. I told him, “You change your mind more often than you change underpants!” This is a little too de-ja-vue-ish to me to ignore.

Part of getting to know someone is in the conversations you will have. It’s important to remember the facts that are told to you. The ability to put things together chronologically from their past, will alert you to potential cheating in your own relationship with that person. I have reason to beware, in this area. He met wife #2 while he was married to wife #1. He divorced wife #1, and immediately married wife #2. I found out that he was still seeing wife #2 while he was asking me out for coffee, and then seeing me. According to him, both women were outrageous cheaters. i don’t know either one, so I can’t prove or disprove this one. It’s obvious that he has never lived alone. He works on the new one while still “working” on things with the previous. When the new woman is ready to move in, he gets rid of the old one…

He’s been trying to push me into moving in with him immediately. I refuse.

His first x-wife is an alcoholic. I asked him if she had the problem early in their marriage. He said, “No, she really didn’t drink that much. It became a problem later”. I believe, now, after the times that he has pushed me to drink to excess, by himself, that he pressured her into doing the same. I believe he’s the reason that she now has a raging problem. Of course, it’s all her fault, just as the other night was my fault, while he refuses to see his part in it, in pressuring me and guilting me into drinking more. I see where I was wrong. I should have stood up for myself, and refused to drink it anyway. I didn’t, to allow him to save face with a customer and keep from making a scene, which now I know would never have happened. It’s a little of the old me coming out. I think he did the same thing, countless times, to her.

My point in all of this is, that without my experience with the Psychopath, I would NEVER be able to discern these red flags, this easily. I wouldn’t be able to spot the insincerity and lying in my new guy, toward me. I see it very VERY clearly! I haven’t broken up with him yet. I have to put some things into place before I do. Until then, my heart has pulled away from him. He can tell. From the first series of lies, my heart caved up again, just as easily as it ran to him. He’s already looking over my shoulder for another. I see that too. The man who has his phone glued to his hip, normally, is now leaving it in his car when we are together in my home. I’ve noticed that, too.

Dear man…I’m not stupid.