Survival Of A Psychopath…(With Borderline Tendencies…)Enter Dan’s Angry Personality.

One Light In The House

I met Dan way back in the beginning never realizing that he was a distinct personality within Daniel. Taken out of context, without really assessing him, I saw this man was at times colder, darker and aloof. He rarely came out. As a matter of fact, the first time I saw him was during a private intimate moment between us.

Daniel, or really Dan, had initiated something I didn’t particularly like. It was simply a gesture that I found more demeaning. I told him so. He immediately withdrew. I saw Daniel come to his senses, apologize, and promise never to do that again. I summed it up to a typical man always trying, always pushing his limits with a woman.

What Dan had tried wasn’t terrible. I won’t go into details here on this blog because it is R-rated. The gesture that he did was something that a lot of men do in intimate moments with women and women also do it with men. It’s no big deal at all. Some people accept it and some people don’t. What I didn’t like was that this was the beginning of a relationship and I felt it was too forward of a gesture of a man to make towards a woman he hadn’t been intimate with that often.

To understand the complexities of Dan having difficulty introducing himself to me, you should understand my personality first. I have always been an open person. I am  a butterfly.  I have been all my life and always will. That’s a moniker that I have enjoyed. As I have aged, I’ve been called a grounded butterfly. Guess my wings are still there but I’m more established. That’s a good thing.

I’m intelligent. I can banter with others, debate about almost any topic and enjoy excellent conversation. I consider myself an enlightened old soul. I used to wonder where and how I knew all the wondrous trivia I did. In conversing with others, I would be able to add to their conversations helpfully and enjoyably, sometimes humourously without knowing where I picked up that information. I read. I read constantly, and always have. Perhaps I read something somewhere and did’n’t remember the source. Or, as I like to think, as an enlightened soul, from past lives I have picked up information that I have carried on into this soul and have assimilated it into my present life.

I am a dominant person. I can also be very stubborn. I like to rule the my roost. I always made the decisions in my relationships. For me to follow another was not my style. I was a natural leader, not a follower.

Taking all this into consideration, for Dan to open himself to me should have been very difficult. He was the angry personality. He was the personality that wanted to murder Daniel and Little Danny. He was the personality that would often tell me he was leaving the house  to go  kill his mother. It was Dan that hated his mother so much for the vile, evil, and hateful things she did to this little boy who helped to create the monster he is today.

I cannot even count the times I would stop Dan from leaving the house in his murderous moods and rages. At the time, I didn’t even realize whom I was speaking with. Daniel owned a huge Jeep truck that he used for snow plowing. It was an older model that was quite wide across and could do damage if it hit anything. The body of the truck was also quite strong.

Dan would talk of ways to murder Sandra, his mother. At the time, I believed he hated her. Anyone would, given the circumstances. This is a woman who had taken his head, at age 8, when he had difficulty reading, and would bang it against the kitchen wall. She would shout at him and ask if that helped him to read better. These are stories the woman told me in her own words. No tears from her in repeating the stories, just words. No remorse. Just words. As if she was reading a story. It seemed she had no emotions when she would speak of him. I cannot imagine the horrors of abuse he suffered at her hands.

There were two ways Dan wanted to kill his mother. He knew she had a pacemaker. One time at the cardiologists office, he actually talked of magnets. He had the doctor talking about the size of magnet that it would take and the pull of it to stop the pacemaker inserted in her. Little did the doctor know he wasn’t fooling. I was the only one that stood there listening to this conversation knowing that Dan was compartmentalizing this information quite neatly.

The other way he often talked about was with his Jeep truck. He theorized that if was snow-plowing with it in front of her home, and the brakes slipped on the ice, he could actually swing the vehicle right into the front of her home directly into the two front rooms, where she would be sitting. Directly at her. Crash into the house, into her, killing her with his Jeep by “accident”.

Sometimes he was so worked up and angry, he was ready to leave the house and go to kill her anyway with the truck. I would stop him, telling him he would be caught. That his plan wouldn’t work. Somehow I was able to stop him from doing this. Other times, he would leave in his truck for hours. I would have no idea where he went. Frankly, I didn’t care. It was my free time from him. From him and her. From Ma Barker and her son, The Psychopath.

Other times, he would talk of his ex-wife. He told me he would sit in the fields by his old house. He would take his shotgun with him. When she would come out in the yard, he would focus on her in the cross-hairs of the gun. Telling me this, yes, I was very frightened. Very frightened for my life. I just didn’t know where to go and how I would live then. I was still disabled with appliances, e.g., a wheelchair, Canadian crutches, walker,etc.

The last few months we spent together, I was basically living with Dan. I had been in the hospital, very ill. Released home, to explicit bed rest for 6 weeks. I was to live on the second floor of our home, with Daniel taking care of me. One thought that kept me living was that in a few weeks I would be seeing Doc Binnig . She was and still is a lifeline to me.

What  I do remember of it remains shrouded in horror now. My feelings cause me much pain still. He would refuse to feed me. If I would seizure, he would leave me wherever I had fallen. I was basically at his mercy. I was in Hell. And I don’t know if I will ever not succumb to the feelings that return to me when I think about that life and when I don’t think about that life. It’s not always my choice.

Those thoughts are intrusive to me and will never go away. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder now. It’s something I’ll have to live with the rest of my life. Perhaps by telling my story I’ll be able to help someone else. Perhaps not. But my inner feelings tell me I think I will.



All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License



One response to “Survival Of A Psychopath…(With Borderline Tendencies…)Enter Dan’s Angry Personality.

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention Survival Of A Pyschopath…(With Borderline Tendencies…)Enter Dan’s Angry Personality. « Sorceressofthedark's Blog --

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