Sexual Harassment-Take Down Predators

So in talking about sexual harassment in the workplace, I wanted to talk about the mind sets of women. Women that should know better. Women that accept men talking down to them which in turn, lays a foundation for the acceptance of sexual harassment.

Recently, I had lunch with a woman who was retired from a job as a life-long secretary in New York City. She was an efficient worker, and had worked for professionals in a field for many years. She was good at her job and enjoyed it. She was very pleasant and a knowledgable woman. Except for the idea that women “had their place”.

She told me this story of acquiring her last position. Her new boss was deemed difficult and had acquired many secretaries before her. She was determined to stay with this man, because the money was good and she said, she didn’t think he was all that bad. So I questioned her, “What was considered so bad about him that so many others left after a few weeks? After all, if he couldn’t keep other secretaries, there had to be something about him that was wrong/harassing/too demanding in the workplace…?”

She went on to tell me that he was a boisterous man, and could be rather loud at times, but that didn’t bother her. And then the bomb hit. She said, “Well, you know, he would always call me honey, or dear, or sweetheart. But I didn’t mind. I considered it a name of affection. After all, he was my Boss.” And there you have it. He. Was. My. Boss.

So I asked her, “What if you called him, honey, or dear, or sweetheart?” Her eyes opened up to the size of saucers. She gasped, literally. “Oh my god, no!” she said. “I never could. He was my boss! That was not my place!” I just looked at her with amusement. “But it was his place to call you those terms of endearment? You have a real name.” She was looking at me as if I was the one making a mountain out of a molehill. “What’s the big deal?” she asked. “He didn’t mean anything. That’s what he called the women in the office. They were only secretaries. He was the boss.”  There it was again. He. Was. The. Boss. Giving him the right to demoralize anyone beneath him simply because of his title.

“But did he call the men in the office by anything but their real names?” I asked. “Oh no, always their real names.” she replied succintly. End of that question. As if I was ignorant for even asking the question in the first place.

No matter what I said, how I said it or why I tried to explain that it was wrong for this boss to call her and other women “dear, honey or sweetheart” instead of their real names, she just didn’t get it. Nothing I said could penetrate her armor.

When I look at women that support Trump, even though he has treated women demeaningly,  has been caught on tape talking about women in lewd and lascivious ways including women that have spoken out about his fondling and kissing them against their wills, I cannot understand their admiration of this man and his lack of morals. A predator is a predator. They do not change their coats. They cannot change.

I find this type of acceptance of men that push women down and negate them fully unacceptable. It only encourages them further. Years ago, I felt that surely by this time, our world would have changed. It has not. And apparently, with women still supporting these types of predators, it is not going to change in the near future. This is a deplorable situation for the young women of tomorrow.

I will say this again. You are your own person. You do not have to submit to a predator’s will. You do not have to be their fantasy. If you do, you are allowing them to continue their fantasy at your own expense. And with that comes the degradation of your own character. Stand up for yourself. Be strong and fight back. Take down predators one by one. We should not allow them in our world. If not for yourself, for your daughters, for your granddaughters. No means No.

Peace.

Sorceress

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.

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Characteristics of Narcissistic Mothers by Chris (Reblog)

I could not stop reading this about children of the narcissistic personality. This is an incredible dissertation on what a narcissistic mother does to her child and how that child is disempowered. Anyone dealing with this type of personality can relate to the frustrations the human mind feels when they are in close proximity to this destructive force.

This is a piece for those to understand the hell the narcissist creates and for those that have gone through that hell and have survived a narcissist.

I found it incredibly empowering to read.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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

 

My Health Quest

The Harpy‘s Child

The page for the children of the narcissistic     http://www.narzissmus.org/eigenschaften-narzisstischer-mutter.php
 The Destructive Narcissistic Parent creates a child that only exists to be an extension of her self. It’s about secret things. It’s about body language. It’s about disapproving glances. It’s about vocal tone. It’s very intimate. And it’s very powerful. It’s part of who the child is.  -Chris Characteristics of Narcissistic Mothers 1. Everything she does is deniable. There is always a facile excuse or an explanation. Cruelties are couched in loving terms. Aggressive and hostile acts are paraded as thoughtfulness. Selfish manipulations are presented as gifts. Criticism and slander is slyly disguised as concern. She only wants what is best for you. She only wants to help you.She rarely says right out that she thinks you’re inadequate. Instead, any time that you tell her you’ve done something good…

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Bad Boys…Why We Love Them & Why We Shouldn’t…)

"Hollywood Bad Boys"

“Hollywood Bad Boys”.

Bad Boys. You know one. You’ve seen them. Maybe you’ve lusted after one or two. Why are women so attracted to them? What is the illusion that they carry? I’ve used photos of Hollywood badboys and badgirls because they are easy to identify and associate their particular traits of manipulating and how they treat their romantic partners. Their lifestyles are well-publicized and society feeds on their behaviors. In and out of jails for the wrongs they have commited, it doesn’t seem to matter. Hollywood still pays for them to work and society pays to watch them perform. And why?

Why are they considered “eye candy”, when in reality, their colors and flavors are as sour as rotten apples and they aren’t sweet at all. They are an illusion. Good-looking, sexy, well-dressed, slick-talkers, manipulative, promiscuous, in and out of  jail…they resemble psychopaths, don’t they? Perhaps. Maybe some of the bad boys harbor some of the attributes of the psychopathic personality.

"Hollywood Bad Boys We Love".

“Hollywood Bad Boys We Love”.

Some women will tell you that their “bad boys” are really “teddy bears” if you knew them. They tell you that underneath their “big bad” exterior is a softie.  But behind closed doors is always another story.

I can tell you this. Every woman who has uttered that statement to me has also cried about his behavior to her and how he has treated her behind her back unfairly. How he  a) has affairs; b) is married or is linked exclusively with another woman also; c) uses her for sex exclusively as in a “friends with benefits” type relationship but not necessarily calling the relationship in those terms; d) uses her for her money; e) uses her for some purpose,  for example-he currently doesn’t have a license but needs transportation; f) is playing her in some way that she just can’t figure out exactly because he doesn’t give her all the pieces of his life so she can know him well enough.

The list that bad boys use their victims for is endless. They have their own personal agendas. That’s one of the reasons they have been given the moniker “bad boys”.

So why the strong attraction to these losers? Are these women short on egos themselves? Do they need someone who attracts attention, albeit negative attention to give them their own ego boosts?

Have these women been so hurt in their pasts that they deliberately choose these types of men to use for themselves? Just as these men have the cavalier attitude of “love them and leave them”, many women also use this attitude as a shield to protect their emotions from being hurt anymore. It’s a defense mechanism.

Here’s the catch in many of these relationships. In turn, they will equally destroy this type of relationship while destroying their own sanity. While seeking these types of men to use, they are only quick patches to what they need to fix in their own lives. Quick and easy fixes instead of focusing on long-term goals of self-improvement and ego boosting work that would skillfully aid them in attaining healthy relationships.

Working on yourself is a difficult process. It involves self-introspection to find both your own qualities and your own faults. Addressing both, finding solutions to your faults and building on your attributes is not an easy quick process. The time factor is long, but well worth it. The person that evolves after the time spent is a person that is more confident, independent and ready to tackle the world with new eyes on a daily basis. Not an easy goal, but one that is definitely attainable.

Can these women who stay in these abusive relationship cycles see the damages? Do they want to see the damages? Can they see the damages?

These are questions asked by everyday and professional people who look at these types of relationships whether they are counselors,  neighbors, friends, involved with the situation or not. So often, others look at these women and give up on them with the attitude that the situation is hopeless and the woman is only getting what “she deserved”. The situation these women find themselves in is far more complex and deserves much more insight than a mere shake of the head and a flippant response than this.

These types of relationships are always in a downward spiraling motion. For as many years as it took the person to get involved with that type of negative individual, it will take  many years of inward reflection to remove themselves from that type of negative wanting.

"Hollywood Bad Girls".

“Hollywood Bad Girls”.

Why do people want that elusive “bad boy/girl”? Yes, there are women that are bad girls too. Not as many as the bad boys, and you don’t see them as often, but they are out there. The interesting phenomena is that the women that are considered bad girls are very often looked at with other monikers such as whores, sleazy women, trash, etc. Gender inequality is prevalent when describing these types of personalities. Not fair in today’s world, but that would be another post I could write.

"Hollywood Bad Girls Again.

“Hollywood Bad Girls Again”.

The reasons are many, but here are just a few:

1. They are different. They represent something that is out of the ordinary to you. They offer something that is in a word-naughty, bad, sexy…something against what you have brought up to believe you should be with. They go against your inner moral beliefs and satisfy the part of you that wants to do an action that might be considered wrong. You yourself aren’t doing anything wrong, but by associating with that person you are assuming the guilt.Why do people want that elusive bad boy/girl?

2. They aren’t the settling down type. If you have this type of person on your arm, what does it say about you? That you’ve cornered them? That you have captured them? Think twice about this. Look long into your future with them and look just as deep into their past relationships. There is a pattern with this type of personality and you are not the one that is going to break it, no matter what they tell you.

3. They are different. You know what a good boy is like. A good boy is predictable. A bad boy isn’t. A bad boy is exciting because you never know what might happen and what he might do. The problem here? You also don’t know what he might do with your emotions, your feelings, and your relationship. You just might become old to him as quickly as you were new to him because that’s what he’s about. Bring in the new and get rid of the old quickly.

4. You can’t figure him out. He’s a conundrum. He’s frustrating but you believe he’s all worth that to you. And a relationship that is frustrating, makes you wonder whether he’s faithful to you and makes you feel as if you’re not his only one is really what you’re looking for? Really?

5. You are rebelling and want a partner that is against all that you have always been attracted to and told you should be involved with. You’ve led a cookie-cutter life, a perfect life, you need excitement and you look to the bad boy to fill this void in your life. What he will bring to you is excitement and heartbreak, frustration and pain, and perhaps more. The choice is always yours.

6. He’s a challenge. Good boys want the picket fence in their lives. Bad boys don’t want to be tied down. They want the motorcycles, fast cars and faster lives. Remember this next time you are considering one. The key word is stability. Do you want stability in your life or do you want a roller-coaster?

7. You honestly believe you can reform this bad boy to stay with you forever. He has told you that you are his soul-mate, his one and only, etc. His pathological lies have begun to hook you into his web of deceit so he can use you for his wants and needs. When he’s finished, you’re gone. Not because you want to be gone, because he’s finished with you. It’s called the Red Flags to look for. See:  https://sorceressofthedark.wordpress.com/2011/07/14/survivor-of-a-psychopathwith-borderline-tendencies-red-flags-to-look-for/.

You always have choices in your life. Being with anyone is a new gateway to a new experience, a new vista. Life is a Journey to be experienced and enjoyed even if you make mistakes. It’s when we learn from our mistakes that we go forward.

You also have choices to look inward and find yourself. Because your self  is a special being and should be taken care of with kid gloves. Find ways to see what your qualities are, where your special talents lie and use them. Develop hobbies. Find out what’s fun in your life for you and not anyone else.

Becoming #1 is an important step to boosting your ego. It may sound too simple but put stickies up telling yourself how wonderful you are. Because you are. Smile at yourself in the mirror. Tell yourself everyday you are worth it. Again, because you are.

Focus on how important you are and soon you will find others will see you in a new light. Relationships will open where you become more confident, more self-assured and more in control. It does happen when you begin to work on yourself. But you have to make the first step in choosing yourself first. You can do it. Finding yourself takes time but when you do you’ll find the person inside of yourself pretty amazing.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…What Are Their Agendas?)

It’s so very easy to sit here and tell my readers how simple it is to spot the psychopath at a distance now. How thin and shallow their veneer is I can see right through them.

If only we were all born with the gift to do this immediately on sight. No one is. If they tell you they are, they are lying, or better yet, they are a psychopathic personality trying to get in your better graces.

I still commiserate with my Survivor Sisters, the hardy bunch they are. (Insert wry smile and crinkling eyes here…) I won’t preach at you and tell you I never fell from grace myself. I did. I fell for one.

In the last post I told you in the first meeting with Daniel’s mother, I didn’t see her oddities. By the next morning, I saw her creepiness and stalking a mile away. (no pun intended). Her behavior was highly unusual the next day and I think anyone would have found it to be as such.

Think about this situation. You have an early breakfast with your new boyfriend, you drop him off at his workplace, where you spend a few minutes in your car canoodling, his friends wave at his new girlfriend and blow a few whistles at him, and you’re both smiling. You think to yourself, this is good. You’re in the beginning stages of a relationship, the sky is blue, and both of you are smiling.

Until…until you see this van parked half a block away in the parking lot and it drives up to you. And its Daniel’s mother behind the wheel. She lowers the window and says, “Get in. Let’s chat for a moment.” (Insert eerie music here.) She’s dressed up as if to go to a luncheon, makeup and hair done at 5:30 a.m. and I’m still in my jeans, tee shirt and boots. My store doesn’t open until 1 p.m. so I get to go home for some more zzz’s.

What could this woman want to talk about? And why is she here? Why was she watching her son and I from across the parking lot like a stalker would? I know the answer now, but back then, I never would have imagined the scenerio that was to unfold. Back then, I wouldn’t say I was naive to disorganized personalities, but I wouldn’t have suspected her to be as bizarre as she turned out to be.

What I’ve learned from Sandra is that the old saying “you can’t judge a book by its cover” works both ways. There are sheep in wolves clothing, but there are also wolves in sheeps clothing, too.

A quick aside about wolves in sheep clothing and what I mean by that. When my daughter was younger, I ran a girl scout troop from Brownie level to Junior level. The girls were always collecting aluminum cans and we would bring the collection of cans down to the recyclying center once a month to collect the money and then donate it monthly to a special cause.

One time at the collection, there was a man that wasn’t dressed very neatly, his clothes were very soiled from his line of work, ill-fitting and he was rather large. He frightened the girls by his looks. I told the girls not to judge him, he was the caretaker of the facility. After he told the girls what a wonderful job they were doing recycling, he said his daughter was a baker and she would love to help out our troop. To make a long story short, his daughter went on to bake these amazing cakes whenever our service unit for girl scouts in our area needed them as her way of volunteering  just because she wanted to and just because her dad had met my girls and he was so taken aback at their sincerity. That’s a sheep in wolves clothing.

Sandra dressed the part of a woman going to an annual flower show at the time of the morning. She must have been up since 3 a.m. getting ready for this meeting.

Spotting them, I believe, is the easier part once you have lived through the experience of one of these personalities. Spotting the rest of the emotions is tough, and it does get easier, but not by a long shot does this job-spotting go away quickly, I won’t lie. It can make you feel paranoid at times and it shouldn’t. You are always looking out for your own human decency rights.

Their emotions are not so so easy to discern from ours. Ours are real and full of meanings, emotions, inflections in our speech and feelings. We feel. Simply put, psychopaths and their Cluster-B personality disorders don’t.

What they feel are emotions that we can only imagine in the dark recesses of our minds. We see these emotions in the darkness of their eyes. In the hollowness of their faces. In the slight curvatures of their smiles when they think they have won someone as their prize. In the absurdities of their laughs when they cackle at the inappropriate. In the cold fingertips of their hands. Or in the delusional stories they create to confuse their victims. I witnessed all of these in Daniel and his mother as time progressed.

From Sandra imagining my daughter and I speaking in tongue to one another as a secret language to ourselves to deliberately exclude her to the dark, hollow, vacant pit of Daniel’s eyes the night he held a butcher knife to my neck and the day he deliberately ran a red light causing another vehicle to slam into the passenger’s side of my car where I was sitting enabling the accident that would place me in a wheelchair for the next two years and cause me to become non-verbal.

That morning I saw a determined look in Sandra’s eyes as she watched me from the seat of her van. She had questions for me. Questions she hadn’t wanted asked in front of her son the day before. I opened the door but hesitated getting into her van. “Why are you here”? I asked her.

There was a gleam in her eyes that morning I would like to call evil, but I know now was simply a part of her demeanor when she was orchestrating her plans. Her question to me that morning that she could not ask in front of her son?

“Are you able to bear children?” She asked me point blank. This was her agenda that morning.I explained to her, in a placating tone, that I was the mother of three children already. I was a proud parent of two sons and a daughter. Two were attending college and I was home-schooling the third.

But would I be interested in having Daniel’s children was her question,dismissing the facts that I had just explained to her. Her histrionic mind cared less of of what I had accomplished. Her agenda was focused solely on her needs and wants.

Furthest idea from either of our minds, I told her, exactly why is this your concern and what are you doing here anyway? Now my anger was starting to rise at the the thought of this woman’s interference in my life.

As Sandra saw my anger begin to show, she realized she needed to placate me quickly, since I apparently was an “approved choice” now for her son in her eyes. “Oh Goody”, she actually said as she clapped her hands together. “Three grandchildren!”

I needed to vacate the van as soon as possible. My children had a grandmother they lved dearly. This woman did not show any of the endearing qualities that a typical, loving grandmother would show.

Sandra was beginning to frighten me at that very point in time. Not frighten in any usual sense of the word, but frighten as in she’s not based in reality frighten. I did excuse myself from her, left the van, and walked back to my car.

I decided to stop for breakfast on my home in the event she was following me. I didn’t want this woman to know where I lived.

My preliminary thoughts were that she was a lonely woman, without any direct descendant grandchildchildren to call her own. Odd in her behaviors, yes, but frankly, I was unconcerned at that point. She meant nothing more to me than Daniel’smother. Besides that, Danel and I were not in any type of relationship yet. Apparently, she felt differently.

People with disorganized personalities have agendas. People with normal personalities have agendas. The difference is that there are issues that you can’t see with psychiatrically ill people. You cannot see pschotic breaks in their personalities about to happen. You cannot hear their demons. Only they can. There are subtle signs in their behaviors that reflect their shortcomings in normal decency.

What I can say now is when the hair on the back of your neck stands up, there is a reason. Pay attention to it. Go with your gut feelings, but not your emotions.  Their little green men keep chasing them and haunt them. That’s something Daniel always told me.

Peace.

Sorceress

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

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…They Plot To Murder-Should You Confront Them?)

I am a Survivor, with pain. I am Survivor with torturous mental pain that creeps into my thoughts when I least expect it. Daniel had many diagnoses, and he turned them all loose on me.

I wonder if he would sit and imagine how he would attempt to destroy me with his truly evil, sick, psychologically twisted thoughts. He obviously did. To sit now, and imagine that the man you lived with was plotting to poison you, plotting to hurt you, and yes, plotting to murder you takes your everyday thoughts to a new level of awareness of the human mind and its own brand of humanity and of those that lack the basic tenets of what normal people should have in their command of decency.

In retrospect, Daniel often spoke hauntingly of ways to kill his mother. He would envision his Jeep truck slipping on the ice, while plowing her driveway of the snow, and crashing into her living room picture window. He knew she always watched him through the window while he plowed, as if he couldn’t do the job properly, often coming outside to tell him of “spots” he might have missed or ways that were more efficient in snow plowing. She was always unwilling to cut her apron-strings ties to him and continued to involve herself in any way possible in his life.

He had talked to her cardiologist about her pacemaker and the old myth of how a magnet could stop it. But when he spoke to her doctor, it seemed that he was questioning the myth as a joke, using it as a cover, refuting the story so that it could really be carried to fruition. The cardiologist, didn’t know Daniel’s psychopathic tendencies and hateful, angry thoughts towards Sandra. He didn’t realize that Daniel was on a fishing expedition to learn what type of magnet, what size of magnet, and the method of how this could be done with the exact pacemaker Sandra had inserted in her heart at that time to kill his own mother without being discovered.

I listened in horror as the cardiologist explained to Daniel first jokingly about keeping his mother away from the refrigerator magnets. Then, he went on to explain about the heavier pull of magnets and a more detailed explanation. Daniel absorbed all of this information.  His mother laughed along with the two of them. In retrospect, thinking of her illnesses, I wonder if she realized how sick her son was and that he was plotting to kill her.

Did I attempt to stop Daniel from his thoughts of murder? Of course. He would get this dark, black, empty, vacant look in his eyes. I would tell him that if he murdered his mother, he would be apprehended eventually. I would try to convince him of the fruitlessness of his plan.  Eventually, his thoughts would seem to be distracted.

I didn’t know and still don’t know if his idea was to have me along as an accomplice or witness to what he wanted to do. It would be a very rare occurrence to find me alone in the house. Between the two of them (Sandra and him), I truly was a prisoner. They had me covered so I was never left alone. Perhaps by my constant talking about the negativity of the situation, I was managing to save myself again.

Daniel and his mother had none of those things that I refer to as basic human qualities of goodness to use on a regular basis at free will.  What they did have was the ability to mimic those simple human qualities when they believed they were needed for acceptance in their dealing with their neighbors, friends, public or doctors. These two people were never real. Yes, they stood before me. But everything about their demeanor was a sham concocted by their psychiatric illness, respectively. I only wish they had been fully identified by doctors back then, recognized for who they were and put away for help when opportunity had presented itself to me.

But Sandra’s money spoke volumes in keeping her and her son independent in a system that would keep them free to continue their destruction on unsuspecting people. That’s called justice in America.

Innocent until proven guilty. But the truth of that statement is innocent because you fall through cracks in various systems that don’t recognize signs that will continue to hurt others. That’s what happened to Daniel all his life. A mother to protect him, lie for him, buy his way out of trouble he caused, leaving his mind to become worse in its view of the world, thus creating a far worse scenario than if she had sought help for him as a child.

Sandra once laughingly told me the story of a constable coming to their home looking for Daniel, while she, Lester and Daniel were in the backyard. Sandra quickly told the constable he had just missed him. The constable, apparently a new hire, not having a description of Daniel, asked who the young man was in their yard. Sandra blatantly lied to the law enforcement officer, telling him that the man who stood before him was one of Daniel’s friends from around the block who also come looking for him. “Guess he’s pretty popular today!” Sandra glibly chirped at the constable, to avert attention from Daniel. The constable left and Sandra then investigated what the charges were about for her son before she had him turn himself in to the police station with her present to see if she could smooth whatever the problem was that he had done this time.

When Sandra told me this story, she laughed and had such a delightful gleam in her eyes that she fooled law enforcement. For what reason? Pathological lying? Her histrionic personality? No one can honestly answer the question. But one answer is clear. The mother son team of Daniel and Sandra Smith were one sick, twisted couple. That is a certainty.

When I realize now that I had confronted these two people often and put myself in a dangerous and tenuous position, I can honestly say that confrontation is not something I would recommend to people when they meet or realize they are living with people who have these personality disorders.

Sociopaths and psychopaths are dangerous people and do not react positively to confrontation. They do not react positively to a person that is going to reveal who they are and what they are about. They can be violent people. If you are in a situation where you realize or suspect that the person you are with falls into these categories, or has been diagnosed with these disorders, you might want to reconsider your relationship status with them.

They will deny if you accuse. They will attempt to twist your accusations back at you and make you the accused. They will attempt to frustrate you. They can become violent and attack to get you under their control if they don’t see themselves as succeeding. The best solution to is to walk away and evade this type of person. Stop all contact with them. Change your phone number, your email accounts, your online accounts, and if you must move your residence, you move also. This may sound drastic, but trust me when I say this,  a time may come when you realize it is the only safe thing to do.

You can help yourself. You cannot help them. Remember these words. They cannot be helped. They cannot be rehabilitated. You are the Survivor. Be proud of yourself for walking away and being strong.

I’m delighted I’m no longer with them. I thank the heavens for getting me out alive every day. I just wonder if they will ever get out of my head.

Peace.

Sorceress

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

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Dead Kittens In The Freezer and PTSD.)Part 2.

In the preceding post of “Dead Kittens In The Freezer and PTSD”, I alluded to something horrific with the title of “Dead Kittens”. I began the post by talking about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and giving my readers a variety of background resources to read and cull information about PTSD so they could familiarize themselves about this relentless enigma that haunts many people.

The good psychologists, counselors, doctors and psychiatrists of today that realize PTSD afflicts women that have been in domestic situations that have been abusive in some way are walking angels in my opinion. They give credibility to those people who have suffered at the hands of psychopaths, sociopaths, narcissists, Cluster B personalities and the likes of these types of disorganized people.

I’ve spoken about who places the guilt on people in these types of relationships in a former post, called ”

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Abuse Of Power Results In Guilt For Whom?)”.

It seems many people still turn a blind eye to the truly guilty party in these relationships, blaming the victim for just being in these types of relationships. Blaming the victims, as if she or he would actually want to languish as a prisoner would in a cell . That type of thinking is not preposterous, it is ignorant. For those types of believers, that is one of  the reasons I have decided to tell my story in as much detail as I can.

Some of my stories are not very pretty. They are downright ugly. They are the workings of an evil mind called Daniel and his mother, Sandra.  If I had not lived with these two people, I would have thought this story to be the work of a good fictional writer. But they are not.

As I say often enough to people, I am here telling you this story for a reason. So others may find hope. So others may learn about psychopaths and the assorted twisted personalities I talk about. So others may realize that they too, are Survivors or can be Survivors. It is not easy remembering these events to put on paper. It is exhausting. But they are a story to tell.

On with the story of the dead kittens…

I awakened one morning quickly, sitting straight up, breathing heavily, eyes wide open, staring at my dogs who were ever faithfully watching and protecting me. Fifteen minutes later, I was able to finally begin to breathe at a normal rate and take a few deep breaths. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, brushed my damp hair back, and backed myself up against the headboard. How long will this go on? How many times will I nightmare the horrendous occurrences of time spent with Daniel and/or his mother Sandra?

This time the nightmare was about time spent after the judge had ordered him out. Daniel ate meat and I did not, so I was giving it to a friend’s son who had just moved into a new apartment with his girlfriend. My friend’s son came over to help me clean out my freezer of the meat. I figured it would be better for him to have it since he was just starting out and young in his twenties.

As we were emptying the shelves, we finally reached the top one at the back of the freezer. I saw these two bags that resembled mailing type bags stacked in the back. I knew they didn’t belong in there and suddenly my stomach lurched.

Call it premonition, say it was an educated guess, as I said, postal mailing bags didn’t belong in the freezer section of my refrigerator and I had not put them in there. The only other person with access where I wouldn’t see them putting something in there was Daniel. So many unnatural occurrences had happened already, and I just knew this was going to be one of his disgusting, twisted thoughts left for me.

Billy must have seen the look on my face and said to me that the two bags don’t belong there, do they? No, I responded, very uneasily. He said he would grab one and I could take another but don’t open them, rather, to wait. His mother had told him of my situation with Daniel so he was aware of the strange happenings in the house already.

The bags were about 11″ by 14″. We were each holding one but hadn’t opened them yet. Somehow we knew whatever was in these two bags wasn’t good. Billy peeked in his bag, and quickly grabbed mine. “You don’t need to see”, he told me as he took my bag out of my hands, “Daniel obviously wanted to leave you something to freak you out”.

I did want to see tho and asked what was in the bags. Reluctantly, Billy opened the bags for me.

Each bag contained two dead kittens, about 8 weeks old. Where Daniel got these kittens, I have no idea. He probably conned an unsuspecting person that was advertising free kittens and told them he was going to give them as a gift. Somehow he managed to collect four. Knowing that he killed them disgusts and horrifies me. The image is indelibly etched in my mind forever of Billy and I standing in the kitchen of the Chelsea Avenue home holding two manila envelopes containing 4 dead kittens that Daniel had planted in the freezer for me to later find at some point when he thought I would be alone.

I can still see those little babies, white with little flecks of black in their fur. At least that was one of them in one of the bags that Billy allowed me to see quickly before I collapsed in a chair. I’m sure my face said it all to him. How he killed them, I don’t know. But the number of animals found dead in my home was growing. Daniel had killed my parrots, decapitated a cat, and two other cats mysteriously died in his presence.

The police, of course, in their reports, listed the deaths as circumstantial, even tho another person who did not live in the household discovered them with me. Since I did not see Daniel actually put these kittens in the freezer, they were considered circumstantial evidence. Everyone who heard the story knew Daniel had killed these defenseless animals.

Upon interviewing me, my reactions were obvious to law enforcement. I was distraught, horrified and disgusted. Daniel, in comparison, had already been diagnosed a psychopath with borderline tendencies, with antisocial disorder and bipolar. He was sneaky and cunning and hard to catch. He was also usually MIA when the police would go looking for him. If found, his reactions were usually flat and emotionless as if they were practiced.

Billy, an animal lover also, took the kittens home and buried them. He was as horrified as I. We never mentioned the kittens to each other again.

What pleasure did Daniel derive in killing these defenseless animals? Where did he get them? I won’t even guess. But animal torture is an indicator in the personality traits of the psychopath and those afflicted with some of the disorders mentioned above. So that particular day, Daniel not only derived personal pleasure in killing defenseless creatures but also in mentally torturing me.

Yet the judicial system would tell me if I didn’t actually see him kill the animal, then there was nothing they could do. Circumstantial evidence. The psychopath cunningly does his pleasures for his own needs, yet slips through the cracks of our own society. These are only markers for Daniel, signatures of his. And animal abuse is one of the signatures of a psychopath.

Other signatures of a psychopath along with generalized information:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychopathy.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Dead Kittens In The Freezer and PTSD)

The disorders of the mind that leave a lasting impression on others can be horrific at best. When you have spent an amount of  time with a psychopath, a sociopath, an antisocial disorganized mind, a Cluster B personality, or any of these types of personality disorders, learning about how their minds work, how they see their worlds, their interpretations of their worlds are so conversely different than the average so-named normal person, you walk away with a new-found awareness for your own surroundings and interactions with people.

I have two distinctly different absolute thoughts on what happens to a person after their intimate relationships with these people. The first thought is that you can bury your memories, forget what has happened and go on living as if you never knew that person. The human brain is an amazing organ. It will protect you in times of trauma. Knowing a person such as this, and if they have hurt you in a devastating way, the brain can protect you and tuck those horrible memories away. Never to speak of them again, the memories sit in a dark corner in the recesses of your mind, waiting to leap out should a trigger appear that clicks to awaken them.

Do not be fooled that they have gone away. They are still there. Is it best to let them out? To talk about them? To journal them? Perhaps for some, maybe not for others. Each person has their own agenda.

For others, the memories lie fresh in their mind as clear as the day they happened. No matter how much effort they put into attempting to forget, the thoughts come back to haunt them through nightmares that they don’t remember, through unclear thoughts that they can’t quite place or unsettling thoughts that appear in panic attacks out of nowhere.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is common for survivors of traumas and this does include survivors of domestic abuse situations, violent situations, psychological abuse situations and emotional abuse situations. For more information on PTSD, see:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post_traumatic_stress_disorder.

The US National Library of Medicine published an abstract entitled “Symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder in abused women in a primary care setting allowing for the idea that women also suffer from this disorder. See:  http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/9356977.

A California study, completed in 2000, about “Women, Domestic Violence and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder” can be seen here: http://www.csus.edu/calst/government_affairs/reports/ffp32.pdf.

The point of studies to anyone is that there is enough concern that someone is interested in learning about the subject. This is what should be important. At one point, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was not recognized, altho it was included in the DSM-III in 1980.  When it was finally discovered to be an affliction of our soldiers returning home, many people wondered about the disorder but accepted it as a casualty of war. They simply looked at these men who would cower at the backfire of a car and nod at each other as if they knew and understood what PTSD was about suddenly. Some accepted PTSD in veterans. Some people still didn’t. They looked at these people that had been diagnosed and felt they could “get over” their problems easily or they simply felt they were acting out and being dramatic.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder then became a broader diagnosis for more people. Not only reserved for veterans of war, it became a disorder that afflicted anyone that had sustained traumas as a child, a victim of violence,  a victim of brutality, a victim of some horrendous psychological abuse that afflicted the person in an adverse way that was ongoing to the person and could not be resolved in a timely manner.

Changed in the diagnostic criteria through the years since 1980 has created much debate amongst the psychiatric community. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has been chronicled in many different forms for centuries. The diagnosis now included children that had been molested repeatedly, bombing victims and victims of 911.

A comprehensive abstract detailing the history of opinions can be read here: http://ajp.psychiatryonline.org/article.aspx?articleid=100457. This abstract works through the thoughts and opinions of psychiatric models and their relation to PTSD. As you read through the abstracts, and it is long but interesting, remember, it is an abstract. There are still thoughts in the psychiatric field today that believe PTSD is not real. There are others that make it appear one needs to jump through psychiatric hoops of  tests to arrive at their decision before they rule out other factors to determine that a person is suffering from PTSD. Some points are valid.

I’ve been through a lot of emotional and mental upheaval with the Smith family. All that I’ve written about in this blog is factual. Nothing has been glamorized, or made to seem prettier or gorier, or given more allegorical strength to keep a reader’s interest. I am attempting to recreate what has happened to me during the years I spent with Daniel and his mother Sandra. As I do this, I tell my readers about psychiatric illness, strength, about survival and about hope.

I weave both my story and facts about mental illness so readers have an understanding of both the cause and effect. I want readers to understand the hows, the whys, the whats in as easy an interpretation as I can present to them. There are far too many women and I am positive men also, that haven’t told their story but need to feel validated, need to know they aren’t alone.  Unfortunately, fear looms too large for them to seek help outwardly. Just as my story is very real, there are many more that could be told but never will be. For those that have written to me, I thank you for sharing. Your thoughts have touched my heart.

I began talking about PTSD for a reason today. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is very real. It is a real disorder to victims of continued abuse. It is a trained eye that can see these signs in a victim more easily, that can interpret the physical signs that a Survivor of traumas exhibits at times. We can be hyper-vigilant, we can appear stressed, we can seem intense. If the other person could only open our minds to view what we are seeing on our own movie reels, they would be horrified and mortified. Some would wonder how we get through each day. I wonder the same question. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a movie that would be classified under the horror genre.

Next, Part 2 of Dead Kittens In The Freezer and PTSD.

Peace.

Sorceress

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