Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…The Chapters Of A Psychopath)

It’s always the same thought from so many people who hear my story. Why is this something you still think about? It’s time to put this behind you. It’s time to put it to rest. Why is this still on your mind?

The answers I give in return must seem less than satisfactory to what I term these former Spanish Inquisition members. But I have my reasons.  I don’t validate myself by them. These reasons are validation in themselves. You’ll realize this as you complete the series of “Survival Of A Psychopath”. Should there ever be a completion to this series.

By the time one of my oldest and dearest friends from high school discovered me in this horrendous situation, it seemed too late for me but not for him to rescue me. I was already suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. I didn’t realize this back then.  He tried to rescue me and involved himself out of his love for our friendship of many years. His help to me will always be remembered as one of the bright lights during my forays into a dark passageway during a segment of my lifetime. Thank you J.

Escorted into the courts as Daniel would be released from jail after his attempt to murder me or breaking another facet of the PFA(Protection From Abuse Order), I would be there (taken by his Mother, Sandra ) to support him.  Daniel’s penance by the court system would be announced depending upon his infraction.

The DA’s would confer with me at times for more information relevant to the history of the particular infraction. They would question me, either in a wheelchair or sitting on the hard benches of the court room  with my walker and then later with my Canadian crutches. Sometimes, my body would have a grand mal seizure in the courtroom.

Seizures were one of the side effects that were occurring to me from the accident where Daniel had attempted to murder me. Because I could not speak after a seizure, his mother would use this opportunity instead and tell them how much I loved him. She would blatantly lie to the courts and perjure herself.

The signs of Stockholm Syndrome were there yet no one saw them during my time living with Daniel. How odd to have someone else speak for me in a courtroom and this be accepted without any signatures of a notary or written validation. Yet it happened.

There were times when I attempted to introduce doctors reports of my non-verbal communication skills so that I could write my answers instead only to have these thrown out by the judicial system. My writing skills had not been affected by the accident yet I was held back from using them as a way of communication.

Sandra, his mother, diagnosed a histrionic, narcissistic woman  harbored an unnatural love for her son. She spoke of her abuse by her husband until his untimely demise just two years back. She told me how she had turned to alcohol to overcome her pain while raising her son and daughter.  She also talked of her beatings, sexual abuse and how her children had been abused by both parents in the home. I knew none of this when I met Daniel. It was well-hidden. Again, by the time these stories had been revealed to me, I was in no condition to leave. And the stories of a histrionic, narcissistic are to be taken with a grain of salt or suspect at best. Lying or grandiosity is one of their traits.

I’m sure you are wondering why I keep using the phrase “no condition to leave”.  I was a passenger in a vehicle involved in an auto accident that would later be termed severe. The accident, termed a  T-bone to my side of the vehicle, totaled my SUV.   Daniel had caused the MVA(motor vehicle accident).

After sustaining serious injuries from the accident, injuries that were not readily discernible by looking at a person, doctors told my family that I would be wheel-chair bound, non-verbal and should be placed in an assisted-living home for the rest of my life.  My brain hearing this was exploding. Exploding at their proclamation. My gray matter was screaming. Screaming so loud all I could hear was “NO NO NO NO! Fuck You! I will not…” That’s why I was in no condition to fight back and get out of the situation I was in at the time.

By all appearances, from doctor’s prognosis, I was not expected to survive and if I did, I would not be worth much apparently as a human being. Miracles do happen, I did recover after many years of fighting to regain what I had lost and I proved what some nay-sayer doctors originally thought would happen as wrong.

Back to today. Daniel and his mother(Ma Barker, as I coined her new name) took this opportunity to delve deeper into my background. They used my credit. They used my money. They used me to gain acceptance into certain ways of life they had never been exposed to and wanted to explore. They used me. They didn’t pay the bills on the house. My beautiful historical 1846 home.

PP&L comes knocking years later. They are the source for energy in Pennsylvania. Even though that house was eventually condemned, sold and the bills should have been paid off, I am told I owe them money. Money to the tune of $3,812.70. For past due electricity and for opening a current account on the home in Bethlehem where I no longer live. Identity fraud then haunts me courtesy of the Smiths and their friends.

All that I owned, my life of accumulation for my future retirement, my world was put in the landfill courtesy of Daniel, his mother and the man named Michael Young that purchased my home. My finances are destroyed.  My life is calculated carefully by these two people  during the time period I am with them. A diagnosed histrionic, narcissistic mother and her diagnosed psychopathic, borderline son. Their shadows still stalk and haunt me.

I walked away from that home with my vehicle and the clothes on my back and a few items in my car. I was hidden from anyone and everyone for 9 months. The Stalking Resource Center aided me in that decision. It didn’t help. Daniel still found me in 5 months.

He still does. And so does that life.  It never seems to end. It has been 13 years since I met Daniel, and he is still in contact with me. Only now I am fighting back with the protection of our legal systems in full force. And a true psychopath just doesn’t realize the truth. Because their truths aren’t realities. They will lie to attempt to obtain what they want. They have their obsessions.

And after all this time, I’ve retained my truths.



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