There are many reasons to be thankful. I have survived a horrible relationship and can still attempt to be in another. That’s reason to give thanks. Some tell me they are amazed that I would even want to try. I believe that’s human nature to want companionship. Although my idea of human companionship is somewhat stilted by my scope of what has happened in my entire life I’m still willing to give it a try.
By no means am I perfect. I set very definite parameters when I begin dating someone. And these parameters are exceedingly strict. For someone my age, they might even seem Victorian in nature. Although my soul can be passionate in nature, I tell any prospective partners that any promiscuity is not on the table at all in the beginning stages of the relationship. I don’t need to be boggled down with intimacy problems while I am attempting to learn about one’s soul and mind.
Is that something that the psychopath has done to me? Or is that something that society has fostered in me? I grew up with a hippie attitude, my individualism unchecked, free to explore. I’ve always felt that what two people do consensually together is right. I still do. I also know that many women feel the only way to keep a man or to attempt to hold on to him is through their bodies. And that’s just not me. I believe your body is your vessel. But that goes both ways and for both genders.
The psychopath destroyed a part of me that made me love intimacy. Part of me knows how another person can fake intimacy so well. How they can take what is supposed to be something special and twist it into something ludicrously fake. So I learned to hold back. And never want to trust another human being again. I look in the eyes of others and wonder how, if ever, can they be trusted.
I’ve been struggling with this concept for a number of years. This year I’ve decided to not struggle so hard with it anymore. I’m not going to allow what has happened in the past alter my future so precariously.
Which is not to say that I’m going to blatantly trust anyone again. I’m not. By no means, I’m not. They will have to earn my trust, step by step, inch by inch. And if they’re not willing to do so, that’s their loss. Because I’m worth it. I’m worth every step, inch by inch. I know it. And they should realize this. They should take the time to realize this.
If they won’t, if they don’t, if they can’t? That’s their personal casualty and a red flag to me.
It shows me that they aren’t worth my time and effort. That they aren’t willing to give another human being the time and effort to see within them like I am. If that’s the case, I’m just as happy to spend time with my pets, my family, and my friends. I don’t need to seek out the companionship of someone that can’t emotionally attach themselves without hidden agendas.
Emotions should be real. Feelings should be felt. Communication should be expressed. These are all items that I have had the luxury to think about over the last few years and toss in my mind, crumble into pieces and decide just how I feel they should be interpreted in a significant relationship. An honest relationship takes time, it doesn’t happen overnight. If it’s real, it will be there a year from now. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.
The psychopath will give you many reasons to disbelieve yourself and your immediately burgeoning feelings. He will attempt to sway your thoughts towards him. He will make you swoon immediately and tell you there is no one like you. He will tell you things about yourself that you thought no one ever could say. The love he declares for you is quick to his point but not to yours. Simply because the game he is playing is his. The heart he holds in his hand is yours, never his. Because he doesn’t have a heart. Always remember that.
So as 2013 begins, I look refreshed to this year. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. My life is good. I have a new outlook. I’ve recovered from the MVA 110%. Although that was one of Daniel’s attempted murder attempts on me, I survived. I survived miraculously. From a wheelchair, to a walker, to canadian crutches to just being myself again. I survived him wielding a butcher knife to my neck. I endured sexual abuse that no woman should ever have to face. My homes have been invaded, my personal possessions stolen, my identity stolen, my pets murdered in cold blood. All at the hands of a diagnosed psychopath that should have been locked up years ago and has slipped through our feeble system. All of that is slowly fading now, albeit it seems it was yesterday at times. Post Traumatic Stress will always be with me, I cannot change that. But I can move forward day by day and spit back in his face.
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