Death of an Abuser

I am one who has wished for someone to die…That they just stopped existing… I dreamed about what life would be like, if that person wasn’t on this planet any longer. I was horrible enough of a person, to actually waste my time on such a dark wish. The thing is, I thought I would be ecstatic. I’m not.

My mom called me last night, while I was enjoying some time with other family for Christmas, to tell me the Pro-Social sociopath was dead. I sounded cold-hearted when she told me. I feel bad for his family and friends, who love him. I feel bad for his son, and dog. He died on Christmas Eve. I sounded uncaring. Cold. Inhuman. The fact is, I was in shock. I still am. I don’t know how to feel…

I got my wish. How do I feel about that?

My human self is at odds with my angry bitter self. I was able to say to someone, “I don’t hate him…”, after we split up. But deep-down, I really did. I tried to bury that darkness, by renaming it. “He’s not right for me.” and “Someone loves him. It’s just not me.” There were other things I said, trying to rid myself of that hatred. The fact is, I may not have outwardly wished for his death. I might not have said it, or even accepted it, but each time I had to see him, I secretly wished he just didn’t exist. I didn’t want to see him anymore. Ever. Even though I thought life would be better without him on the planet, I find myself strangely, slightly mournful. I don’t even know if that’s the right word. Am I feeling guilty? Maybe.

I wasn’t the one who was cruel, in every way imaginable. I wasn’t the person who was mean. I wasn’t the abuser. I did the right thing, when I made him leave. I did the right thing, when I ended contact between us. I was entitled to be angry and to hate him. I earned that right. Right??

I’m going to try to put this into real-life perspective.

When he finally left, I was relieved. I was happy and ecstatic to have my home and life back. I was only slightly scathed by the ordeal. There was some damage, as you cannot go through abuse of any kind, without it changing you to some degree. He wasn’t my first abuser. He was an echo of the first monster, from four years ago. Been there, done that, burned the t-shirt.

When he left, he was dead to me already. Except for those times that life insisted that I would have to see him again. And again. And again. How did I handle having to see him as part of my job? At first, it was difficult. I didn’t want to be there. He remained cruel to me. Heartless. I left his shop with as business-like of an attitude as I could muster. Under my breath I said to him, “Fuck off, asshole”, as I walked out the door. The days went by, and I started being a little more at ease with the situation. Never trusting him, but always walking away with my head held high.

My job has changed. New company. New life. I haven’t had to worry about seeing him again, for over a month. I still thought about him from time to time, but as a distant memory of an old nightmare. That is where he has stayed…

Until now.

I once asked a figurative question, when I was freshly away from the monster who started all of this… four years ago… “What if he did die? Would my nightmare be over?” The monster of my past is alive and well, though not in my life. He’s affected me and created the canvas of a new me, which is still being painted.

The pro-social sociopath of my not-so-distant past, who solidified those changes and allowed them to take a more solid form, is gone. I don’t hate him. I don’t pity him. I’m glad he’s gone, but I’m more glad that he doesn’t have to live a lie any longer.

For his sake…

Rest in peace…

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6 thoughts on “Death of an Abuser

  1. Thanks for the perspective. I’ve wondered what I’ll do, how I’ll feel. The only thing I promised myself was to not dance on her grave. I figured it would be too disturbing for other mourners. I’ve mourned most of life the loss of relationship that can never be because of her choices. I’m hoping death brings closure of some sort.

    1. It’s hard to pin-point how I feel. I feel. I actually feel somewhat bad. It’s a closing of a book, if you will. Death doesn’t erase anything that happened. It doesn’t erase the disdain I have cultivated in my heart, for him. Without some sort of miracle, what he did during our relationship will still remain hidden. However, I have regained more of my human-self over the years, and it’s my human-self that is having a tough time with it. It’s a bad part of my life and memories, which has died with him. I still deal with his footprint, in my life, though. If someone said to me, “I’m sorry for your loss”, I could honestly say that I haven’t lost anything. It’s finality. It’s an end. It’s surreal.

  2. What if he did die?
    Last night I had a dream about the ex driving me “to the top of the world” he said. It was a hilly road, long and winding with construction all around. Then the road ended because it was unfinished a n d it was my fault. He turned around abruptly and drove fast, really fast. From nowhere a long sharp object impaled him through the chest AND I woke up. Numb. Indifferent. So? So what?

    1. I’ve had some oddball dreams about exes, too. Most were of me being chased by him or waking up and seeing a shotgun pointed at my face. Those were the early days before dealing with someone who was horrendously psychologically abusive. Now, I’m the same way…Numb. Indifferent.

      I know trauma, especially repetitious trauma, can cause a person to disassociate. That’s partly where some of the ‘indifference’ and emotional numbness comes in. Over the years, that’s become who I am, for the most part. Numb and indifferent, whenever something happens, or something stressful needs to be dealt with. I cannot control that, anymore. That dissociation helps me to deal with the subject at hand, or situation, without panicking over it. Sometimes, anger needs to play into the situation. Me? I go numb, instead. Weird.

      When you talk about having a dream like that, most people would be traumatized by the dream. They would wake up, heart pounding and in a cold sweat. They would have to take a minute or two, to recover from the shock, upon waking up. You and I, however, dissociate. I can’t help but wonder if you are in that same category as I am, too? I’ve read some about C-PTSD, which lists that same emotional dissociation as a key symptom.

      In so much as the dissociation is a key symptom, and is usually viewed as a “bad” thing to live with, I think it’s just as much of a blessing to some degree. If it wasn’t for that ‘numbness’ and ‘dissociation’, I would react instead of act. I would cower instead of stand for what is right. My decisions and choices are about facts these days, and the right actions to take. I still wish I could ‘react’ when a good reaction is in order…such as anger at the most needed time.

      I hope your dreams are peaceful from now on. The best ones are when you stand up to the abuser and win!

      1. This is no dream. I just found out that the ex died a week ago. My first thought was Oh dear, now I lose my pension. Then I prayed and asked my God to forgive my thought. I’ve been told that he has been telling people he has found finally someone who cares for him. My second thought- Oh my, it was all about him to the end. So what now? …

  3. You aren’t a terrible person for wishing that. I have prayed for my ex P to die or go to prison many times. We were together 11 years. He was my first boyfriend so I didn’t know what “normal” was. I’d known him loosely since the 4th grade. We went to high school together. He was eerily quiet though, but well liked. He got me to marry him through rape and me conceiving a child. He apologized for raping me that night. I became incredibly depressed and wanted to give the child up for adoption. He assured me that he would instead “take the baby and raise it himself” because he knew deep down that I didn’t trust him completely and I would then marry him. He was sexually abusive to me during marriage as well. He told me during the divorce that he was a psychopath and explained he has never felt anything except rage. No love, no joy, no sadness. He told me anytime I had seen him cry was because he forced himself like an actor in order to “fit in” or manipulate. I finally left when I found out he was having sex with multiple men, women, prostitutes, our dogs and worst of all had sexually abused our daughter. I became a solo single mom to our three kids overnight. He later admitted to having sexually abused his much younger brother when he was a teen. During the divorce he told me one night he was so angry “he could have raped someone”. He then told me he had been driving around searching for a woman walking alone to target, but couldn’t find anyone that night so he went to a strip club instead.

    Like many psychopaths despite telling (bragging?) the police and children’s services the disgusting things he had done to our daughter, he got off on a technicality. He is not a registered sex offender. He is now threatening to go for custody of our kids saying he was not officially charged with a crime so he has done nothing wrong. He will not leave me alone. I blocked his number but he still calls and leaves nasty messages. He made up a lie and sent police to my parent’s house to scare them last week. The police arrived and were ticked when they found out he called and lied. He now has a new girlfriend (who has a child) and he is playing the victim and had her email me last week to tell me that they are coming after me. We have been divorced SEVEN years and I know he will never stop until he dies or goes to prison. I pray God protects my kids and I from his incredible evil.

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