Out of the frying pan, yadda friggen yadda…

Just over 2 years ago, I finally got rid of an evil sub-human, also known as a ‘high mach’ or Psychopath. I thought I learned everything there was to learn. Ok, I knew better, but I thought I knew enough.

Just a side-stepping moment, here: I didn’t realize just how easy I had it, when I left my X-psychopath. It was easy to pull away from the inhumane treatment and obvious set ups against me. It was easy to run away, once I fully understood what I was actually dealing with. In the beginning of my exodus, all I knew was he was extremely dangerous, since he had no real discernible, natural boundaries or limits as to what he was capable. Getting away was the easy part, for me. Especially when I finally understood my detrimental position in that relationship. The hard part of it all, began once I finally got rid of him, directly. Since that point, nothing has been easy. It’s gotten easier per-say, but not easy in the least. The first one was mean and all sorts of cruel.

I left, exposing him as I ran. I filed for a restraining order. I alerted my management team as to the abuse and stalking behavior. That changling has left me alone, except for the smear campaigns I recognized were being formed early on in our relationship (I hate that term as a descriptive for that period of hell). The remainder of the time afterward was spent reaffirming who I am as a person. A living, breathing, empathetic creature. I was learning to become comfortable in my own skin, again. Later I was able to learn just what it was about me that made me so tempting to a Psychopath to begin with, as well as what perpetuated all abuses in my life, and what enabled all of it to continue.

Yeah, it was easy to get away. I learned to fear the beast and quite literally ran for my life. Once the red flags became beacons, the rest was history, as they say.

That was the frying pan. I was emotionally and psychologically fried beyond belief. Yet, I wasn’t dead yet. I still had a glimmer of life left.

Two years went by. I was unable to open up to even the slightest caring gestures by a man. I was unable to feel the least bit close to another man, much less be able to open up to the potential of romance. I was seemingly forever unable to let go enough to believe or trust another human being, aside from my closest long-time friends. Those friends were my life-line.  He was nice enough on occasion to keep me second guessing myself, and ultimately staying in that relationship. The new love, is everything BUT mean.

Just when you think your radar is strong enough to keep from ever being targeted again…when you think you are fortified enough to withstand any attack, here comes another one.

Rest assured, the next attack just might not be as blatant as the first. It could be disguised very well, showing itself as a loving and caring person, who says and does all the right things. It might just seem like that person has followed you around for your entire life, taking notes about everything that has ever meant anything to you. Love bombing. Mirroring. Then the lying and ultimate promises to never do “that” again. Tears will follow, when you express your displeasure with the whole thing. If you get down on yourself, be prepared for him to “one-up” you, appearing as the ultimate disheartened victim. “Feel sorry for me, I’m hurting.” Once you pull the plug, be prepared for the endless texts, expressing how he’s suicidal and is such a “piece of shit” for ever hurting you and ultimately losing you.

The hard part? Even though you are and have been completely aware of set ups against you for a future smear campaign; Even though you have endured snide controlling gestures, only to have them turned around against you, “God, can’t you take a fucking JOKE?”, for whatever reason it was THAT person to make you come alive again. To trust again. Everything seems perfect. It’s this aspect, and the thought that it was all a lie to begin with, that will have you teetering and grasping for straws. it’s hard to give up on something and someone you believed so strongly in. You know what you know. You’ve been in that same exact place before. You see all of the beacons flashing around you. You’re gut has been tied up for months, by this time, yet it’s hard to give up, isn’t it? To admit that you were “taken” again.

You know the same old script. It’s been playing in your mind since the first careless cruel series of lies. Each subtle control attempt only adds to your mental, emotional and psychological distress. You know full well, how this would play out. Seriously, do you REALLY want to go through that again? REALLY?? Our memories of previous abuse, aids to alert us of future, potential danger. What happened in the past, when you chose to give copious amounts of “second chances”? When you fell for the empty promises again, followed by tears? Did things ever change? Do you honestly believe his exclamation that you are the magic elixir to finally help him see the error of his ways, like he proclaims? To finally “heal” him, magically, of all of his subtle attempts to control? Or cure him of his lying, (which he really didn’t understand was wrong…really). Refer to that same script.  How does the story end, EACH AND EVERY TIME??!! Let me fill in the blank, here: THINGS ALWAYS GET WORSE! The longer you placate the situation, the better he will become at destroying who you are. your identity.

You choose the ending to THIS story. Just as I am choosing the ending to mine. Do I like the ending? No! Do I wish things were different? Absolutely! A miracle happened in me, as a result of the time I have spent with this person. I discovered that my heart isn’t dead. It’s bruised again, but not dead.

Like a textbook case, the man is trying to get reactions out of me, even now. He’s texting me, saying he’ll be dying soon, followed by silence. My instinct (or normal reaction) is to run to his aid, to make sure he’s not harming himself. My knowledge is telling me that this is all to push for a response from me. It’s hard. It hurts very badly. I know what I know. I trust my gut at this point. Does that mean that I have magically stopped caring for and about this man? I wish I could turn that off. Believe me. The fact is, I still care. To ignore his attempts goes completely against who I have always been. Nevertheless, it has to be this way.

Lesson plan implemented. Test passed with an acceptable grade.

Moving on…


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