Revealing Your Past To Others.

So as Survivors there is an age-old question we must ask of ourselves: Do we tell new friends/boyfriends/girlfriends of our troubling pasts? And if we do, just how much do we tell them? And how early in a relationship do we reveal how another person shaped who we are today?

If we do tell, then we are opening ourselves to criticism and feedback. Which isn’t something we necessarily want or need. The point of explaining that we are a Survivor of a Psychopath or a Narcissist or (fill in your own blank) is to explain that that particular person has caused some pretty extensive emotional damage to you, perhaps some physical damage, you might be suffering PTSD, you might be hyper-vigilant, you might have some quirks and hey-let’s face it-you know yourself better than anyone else and although you think you’re drowning in a sea of emotions, really, you’re swimming in the lake with dolphins. Why do I say that? Because you understand more about where you are, where you’ve been and where you’re going than those dolphins ever will.

When I explain my story of the psychopath to someone, so very often their response is, “Why didn’t you have him killed?” “He needs to die.” Such a flippant response people let roll off their tongues. But it’s not their position to “kill” someone, I guess, so they say it. I just calmly look at them, and explain that murder is not an answer to a psychopathic stalker and explain the law to them. Words are easy to say, actions are harder, and people talk sh*t all the time. I shouldn’t have to defend myself as to why I have behaved as a victim all these years within the confines of the law. So I don’t tell my story that often to others. Unless it’s necessary. Because most people don’t really think their thoughts through realistically. Because they have lived normal, happy, cookie-cutter lives.

Now as a Narcissist Survivor, my story will garner pity. And I don’t want that either. Growing up the way I did gave me strength. It was hell back then. I couldn’t wait to get out. And the way I got out was the wrong way and it set me up to fail. I know that now but I didn’t know that back then. I was naive, young and biting at the bits to get the hell out. Simple as that. I thought I was ready to face the world but in reality, I really wasn’t. I didn’t have the skills needed because I hadn’t been given the skills I should have been given by proper parenting.

It felt good to be away from the object of my horrors yet she was still very much an integral part of my life. The day after I was married and I had left my home, I received an emergency phone call from my mother early that morning. Yes, an emergency phone call from my narcissistic mother calling me on the first day of my honeymoon. I had left my cat in her care while I would be away until I returned, and would be leaving later that day. She was calling to tell me that she could not “find” my cat.

Now, mind you, we had lived in a two-family home, with my aunt downstairs, my parents upstairs. A full attic and a full basement in this large home. My cat never ventured outdoors. Somehow, this woman had “lost” her and had to call me to tell me this on the first day of my honeymoon, begging me to come back to the home to find her.

Of course I was beside myself, so my new husband and I went back to my old house to look for her. When we arrived, there was my mother, sitting on the couch in the living room, laughing and joking with a group of people. She had invited family and friends to an “after the wedding party”, unbeknownst to me. So I arrive to this party, they look at me as if I’m crazy and why am I there, I look at them wondering why are they there because she never told me about a party. She’s sitting there, Queen of the party, cigarette and drink in hand, laughing away. What a manipulative move on her part.

I calmly ask her if she had found my cat. She tells everyone how worried I am about “Sherman”, and look how “she can’t stay away”. (She doesn’t tell them how she called me hours earlier begging me to come find her.) I turned around, walked out of the apartment, into the hallway, opened the attic door, and out walked my cat. Somehow I knew she would be in there. The attic door remains locked at all times, by the way. I picked her up, brought her back into the house, and told everyone I found her locked in the attic. I then announced that my husband and I were leaving and hoped that Sherman would survive the next two weeks.

Sherman did, as did I. And I’m not sure how my narcissistic mother survived without her scapegoat under her domain. She just had to throw in one last jab before I was finally out of the house, I guess. Twisting words to others, attempting to belittle me and have an audience for her last show. Maybe she didn’t count on my finding my cat in the locked attic so easily. She probably didn’t realize the bond between an animal and its’ owner. At the least, when I left so quickly, all anyone really knew was that I had received a call, was concerned, and loved my pet enough to make sure she was safe. To some, maybe that seemed crazy, to others, it was not. To me, it was normal love for a pet.

That wasn’t the last time she reached out her claws to strike at me. Somehow, she managed to many other times before she died 7 years later. I still shake my head at her behavior. Yes, it still haunts me. But I’ll tell it to others so they know they aren’t alone. And to those who are my friends so they understand when I am silent, looking into nothing, when deep wells become my eyes.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Surviving The Master Manipulator/Narcissist.

Rose Kennedy, 1890-1885.

Rose Kennedy, 1890-1995.

It could be your demise if you don’t realize how the master manipulator is controlling your life. When the psychopath isolates you, and you realize you are alone, truly alone without any support, a coldness should envelop your very existence. But in many cases, if you are living with one, this doesn’t happen.

It doesn’t happen because the psychopath has created a false reality for you of a happy life together. He has parroted back to you your dreams, your desires, your wants and even your morals in his desires to acquire you. Once this cycle is complete, and for some, it doesn’t take very long, your horrific journey with a psychopath’s mind will start. What you thought of as your reality soon becomes a horrible nightmare concocted by a twisted mind. Your life as you once knew it, no longer exists. You are now alone at the mercy of a psychopath, a narcissist, or one of many destructive personalities that thrive on and through their victims until they no longer need their prey.

Sound harsh? It is. Sick and twisted? Most definitely. Can you escape? Perhaps. If you keep a network somewhere, somehow of people, friends, acquaintances that you trust in your life and who also trust you and know you explicitly. These people must know you better than the perpetrator of the wrongs being committed against you. Most people don’t want to get involved. Most people will walk away from you in these situations. That’s what our society has created. The “I don’t really want to get involved” attitude. And that’s partly understandable.

Why? Because most people are uneducated or under-educated about what true psychopaths, etc., can do to their victims. Most victims and Survivors do not and will not speak out about their trials and tribulations of their pasts. It’s too difficult bringing up past horrors. They say they want to move on, but the reality of the situation is that remembering what has happened to them is too painful. It is a hurt that goes deep into a dark place where no one should exist or ever have to visit or re-visit. A very select few have chosen to speak up about their experiences with men of these character/personality flaws. You’ll find these people in women’s shelters, usually as volunteers.

When I was a child, my father used to give me his sage advice. Sometimes, it sounded more like street sage advice. He was a sheriff’s officer, who also did work for the F.B.I., and I know he saw the dregs of society. He used to talk about the people who were institutionalized as if it was a dinner topic at home with my mother. That was his form of release. As a child, his stories were very difficult to listen to, imagining what these men had done to be put away.

One piece of advice my dad gave me as a little girl was “to always keep a card in your back pocket”. That advice has always stuck with me.

In the beginning of my relationship with this family, I had a particular hair stylist. I had used this stylist before for about 7 years before meeting them. Sandra, in her irrational imitations of me, decided to go to this stylist and have him copy my hair cut and hair color. When she came home to show me, I was aghast. She looked like a duplicate of me, at least from the head up. It was very eery. I went to my stylist and changed my hair cut and we discussed what had happened. He told me how she had made an appointment, gone in and requested to look like me. Well, money’s money, he said, and did what was requested. After all those years of my business, I would have thought he would have had better sense. About a month later, I made my usual appointment. I walk into his upscale salon, tell them my name, and sit down. Normally, he would take one customer at a time upstairs in his renovated townhome now salon. He usually would walk downstairs to greet his customer. When the receptionist called him to announce my arrival, he yelled down the stairs, “Tell her she’s late. Tell her I won’t be seeing her.” I wasn’t late. I was on time, which I told the receptionist. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She called back to him. She tells me that he said not to bother making another appointment, as he was cutting his client list. Now this didn’t make any sense to me. After seven years of camaraderie, beautiful haircuts, a wonderful relationship with my stylist, he won’t even talk to me? What’s going on?

So I begin to look for another. I find a wonderful woman in another town. She and I hit it off immediately. She is the owner of a salon that she herself has renovated, my age, and we have a lot in common. I don’t tell Sandra where I am going to cut my hair now, even tho she is aware of what happened at the Easton stylist. She wants to know, but I tell her she has her hair cut there, no need to go to another stylist.

Eventually, she finds out. Through snooping, through Daniel telling her, I have no idea how she found out, but she did after about a year and a half. Now I’ve been going to visit this other stylist throughout this time period, very happy with my cuts, very happy with the service, and we’ve become friends. Sandra isn’t aware of our friendship. I haven’t told anyone of the friendship. This was my card in my back pocket. It was no one’s business but my own.

One day I walk in to get my hair done, and this stylist tells me she has some very interesting news for me, but, I’d better sit down first. She takes me to another room where others aren’t present. She proceeds to tell me that Sandra Smith had been in for a haircut. I’m surprised. I tell her that I had not given Sandra her name. She knew this. She then goes on to explain that when Sandra was in for the haircut, Sandra was very talkative about me. As my friend is explaining this, she has a mysterious smile on her face. “Know what she claims you said about me?” she inquires. “I have no idea.” I tell her. “Sandra told me that you tell everyone what a horrible haircut I give. That I shouldn’t be running a business like this. And as far as coloring hair, I couldn’t color paper with crayons if I tried.” Then she started laughing. I was horrified. She quickly told me she didn’t believe a word Sandra said, so not to worry. After all, if I really did say those things, why would I keep returning to her for haircuts and put my head at her mercy?

“What did you say to her?” I asked. “Oh, I gave her holy hell. I told her she was a narcissistic liar that needed front and center and she wasn’t getting it. That she ruined your first stylist, so you came to me and now she’s trying to start stories with me. I told her it won’t work. When she tried to appease me with a huge tip, I threw it back at her and told her never to make an appointment here again. And I told her she needed to get back with her psychiatrist.” I began smiling at my friend who had defended me. One of a very few select people that weren’t afraid of the Smiths or who weren’t greedy and lured by their money. I had a new-found respect for this woman, a woman who had traveled across the US when she acquired the beauty salon, a woman who changed careers mid-life to start again. She was a former psychologist. That’s why Sandra Smith couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes.

But people like her were few and far in-between. She had the knowledge to understand what was going on. She didn’t know all of what was going on behind the scenes. But in the case of Sandra’s lying, she didn’t believe. And as far as Sandra’s many other lies, I would find out later that many people did believe her.

Sandra even went so far, (remember she worked in a flea market selling Avon), to tell people that I had died as a result of my motor vehicle accident. I found this out by chance. I was walking alone years after, in a flea market near that area where she had worked, when I met a former vendor. The look on their face was of a person that had just seen a ghost. Again, confusion on my face. They sputtered, “I thought you were dead.” Make a long story short, Sandra had been telling people in that area of that flea market that I had passed away from my injuries.

These two manipulators did a lot of damage for me. I’m still cleaning it up years later. And as difficult as it is for me to tell this story, when I repeat it to some so-called friends of mine, it is dismissed as  “Well, you can’t go on thinking about it. You have to forget about it. I’ve had stuff happen to me and I don’t think about it anymore.” “Stuff” happening to someone isn’t the same as abusive atrocities inflicted that are designed to isolate and deliberately hurt someone’s psyche. When traumas are inflicted upon someone, they don’t forget. The pain remains, whether they choose to remember or not.

Kahlil Gibran, 1883-1931.

Kahlil Gibran, 1883-1931.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Kahlil Gibran. “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” It’s the scars that create the people we are today. We are born a blank canvas and each trauma creates a color, a dot on that canvas throughout our life. How we observe that canvas is up to us. How we perceive it is our decision. There are many ways to look at a picture. There are many ways to rotate it to view it. If it doesn’t work one way, turn it around. Just remember how strong your soul and character is. You have that quality. No one can take that away from you. That’s impressive. You have an indeterminable amount of strength to work with. Use it.

Peace.

Sorceress.

Kahlil Gibran cuff available here: https://www.artfulvision.com/Kahlil-Gibran-Quote-Cuff.html

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…The Son Of A Narcissist Mother)

The tales of the narcissistic mother. How she throws situations at her child. How she deliberately twists and turns her words to make her child feel as if everything is their fault. She’s good at it. She’s had a lifetime at practicing.

For some of the adult children of her, I do have pity. They have never been able to outgrow the horrible feelings of inadequateness that this mother has bestowed upon them. The hidden belittling towards the child she chooses forever to desecrate. The narcissistic mother never stops. She just goes on and on and on.

For the others that have been able to crawl out of the hole that this mother has dug for them, I salute you.  You earned much in the way of salutations. You first had to live through the belittling and torturous psychological abuse,  you had to identify it, and you had to move away from it. And if you decided to stay in contact with your narcissistic mother, for whatever reason, (and I make no judgements here because many do stick around),  but you do it on your own terms, you my friend, without a doubt, deserve a medal to wear proudly.

I talk about narcissism with a mother, but it is a psychiatric condition found in women and men alike. It can be found in a partner both female and male alike. It can be found in a child, also. An adult child.  For clarification, here is a classic definition of narcissism:

“Traits and signs:

Thomas suggests that narcissists typically display most, sometimes all, of the following traits:[5]

Hotchkiss’ seven deadly sins of narcissism

Hotchkiss identified what she called the seven deadly sins of narcissism:[6]

  1. Shamelessness: Shame is the feeling that lurks beneath all unhealthy narcissism, and the inability to process shame in healthy ways.
  2. Magical thinking: Narcissists see themselves as perfect, using distortion and illusion known as magical thinking. They also use projection to dump shame onto others.
  3. Arrogance: A narcissist who is feeling deflated may reinflate by diminishing, debasing, or degrading somebody else.
  4. Envy: A narcissist may secure a sense of superiority in the face of another person’s ability by using contempt to minimize the other person.
  5. Entitlement: Narcissists hold unreasonable expectations of particularly favorable treatment and automatic compliance because they consider themselves special. Failure to comply is considered an attack on their superiority, and the perpetrator is considered an “awkward” or “difficult” person. Defiance of their will is a narcissistic injury that can trigger narcissistic rage.
  6. Exploitation: Can take many forms but always involves the exploitation of others without regard for their feelings or interests. Often the other is in a subservient position where resistance would be difficult or even impossible. Sometimes the subservience is not so much real as assumed.
  7. Bad boundaries: Narcissists do not recognize that they have boundaries and that others are separate and are not extensions of themselves. Others either exist to meet their needs or may as well not exist at all. Those who provide narcissistic supply to the narcissist are treated as if they are part of the narcissist and are expected to live up to those expectations. In the mind of a narcissist there is no boundary between self and other.”

Taken from :  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissism. Read more at the link provided.

Another description of narcissism:

The DSM IV describes narcissism as:

“DSM IV definition: Someone who suffers from Narcissistic Personality disorder (NPD) has at least 5 of the following characteristics:

  1. has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)
  2. is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
  3. believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions)
  4. requires excessive admiration
  5. has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations
  6. is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends
  7. lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others
  8. is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her
  9. shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes

Associated Features: Depressed Mood Dramatic or Erratic or Antisocial Personality

Differential Diagnosis Some disorders have similar or even the same symptom.

Histrionic Personality Disorder;
Antisocial Personality Disorder;
Borderline Personality Disorder;
Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder;
Schizotypal Personality Disorder;
Paranoid Personality Disorder;
Manic Episodes;
Hypomanic Episodes;
Personality Change Due to a General Medical Condition;
Symptoms that may develop in association with chronic substance use.”

The DSM IV is considered controversial by some for its opinions expressed in its manual.

“The DSM has attracted praise for standardizing psychiatric diagnostic categories and criteria. It has also attracted controversy and criticism. Some critics argue that the DSM represents anunscientific system that enshrines the opinions of a few powerful psychiatrists. There are ongoing issues concerning the validity and reliability of the diagnostic categories; the reliance on superficial symptoms; the use of artificial dividing lines between categories and from ‘normality‘; possible cultural bias; medicalization of human distress and financial conflicts of interest, including with the practice of psychiatrists and with the pharmaceutical industry; political controversies about the inclusion or exclusion of diagnoses from the manual, in general or in regard to specific issues; and the experience of those who are most directly affected by the manual by being diagnosed, including the consumer/survivor movement. The publication of the DSM, with tightly guarded copyrights, now makes APA over $5 million a year, historically adding up to over $100 million.” See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagnostic_and_Statistical_Manual_of_Mental_Disorders for more information.

A very easy layman’s guide to personality disorders can be found here:  http://www.halcyon.com/jmashmun/npd/dsm-iv.html. Written with excerpts from the DSM-IV, this piece takes apart disorders and puts them into easily understood terms for the layperson.

Narcissism as described from halcyon.com:

“1. An exaggerated sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements). Translation:  Grandiosity is the hallmark of narcissism.

2. Preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love.  Translation: Narcissists cultivate solipsistic or “autistic” fantasies, which is to say that they live in their own little worlds (and react with affront when reality dares to intrude).

3. Believes he is “special” and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions).  Translation: Narcissists think that everyone who is not special and superior is worthless. By definition, normal, ordinary, and average aren’t special and superior, and so, to narcissists, they are worthless.

4. Requires excessive admiration.  Translation: Excessive in two ways: they want praise, compliments, deference, and expressions of envy all the time, and they want to be told that everything they do is better than what others can do. Sincerity is not an issue here; all that matter are frequency and volume.

5. Has a sense of entitlement.  Translation: They expect automatic compliance with their wishes or especially favorable treatment, such as thinking that they should always be able to go first and that other people should stop whatever they’re doing to do what the narcissists want, and may react with hurt or rage when these expectations are frustrated.

6. Selfishly takes advantage of others to achieve his own ends.  Translation: Narcissists use other people to get what they want without caring about the cost to the other people.

7. Lacks empathy. Translation: They are unwilling to recognize or sympathize with other people’s feelings and needs. They “tune out” when other people want to talk about their own problems.

8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him.  Translation: No translation needed.

9. Shows arrogant, haughty, patronizing, or contemptuous behaviors or attitudes.  Translation: They treat other people like dirt.”

I’ve chosen three presentations of narcissism simply because each human mind digests material differently. We all have different learning styles and I want those who have come here to truly understand the narcissist.

I lived with a psychopath and his narcissistic, histrionic mother for a number of years. Dealing with these two people led to an incredible journey of becoming a Survivor with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  The thought processes of both Daniel and his mother Sandra were unlike any other people I had ever encountered.

Daniel’s mother was classified as a narcissist. Her tales to me often spoke of the ways she used people in her different jobs. She would often laugh at her intricate ways to use people without their knowing. She would build her stories to a crescendo and then sit back to her audience and demand respect, praise and attention . I questioned her methods of arrogance. I often found her repulsive in her attention-seeking methods at the expense of others. In the end of our relationship, her despising me eventually became built on my honest appraisal of her spoken truths that were thinly disguised lies for others in her mission to always manipulate people.

Daniel had blocked many memories of his childhood and with good reason. He often talked of his abuse during childhood. At times, he would question Sandra openly of her parental tactics in front of me, often putting her on the defensive/offensive. If she couldn’t blame someone else for her abusiveness as a parent, she would walk away from the conversation and ignore him. Nothing was ever her fault, unless in her eyes, the outcome would have been well-received.

Sandra admitted to me she drank heavily during her pregnancy and during the earlier years of his childhood. She blamed her drinking first on her obstetrician’s recommendation for her pregnancy. She told me that she couldn’t keep any food in and was constantly vomiting during her pregnancy with Daniel.

Queasiness is  quite common for the beginning of a pregnancy. In her words, she told me that her doctor told her that she should “drink beer and eat saltines” for her pregnancy if “that was all she could keep down”.  I have no way of proving or disproving what this woman told me. I do find it difficult to believe that a medical doctor would recommend his pregnant patient to drink alcohol. Medical advice has changed through the decades, of course.

I will offer that any child whose mother drank throughout the nine months of development has a definitive opportunity for a host of problems in their physical and mental capacities after they are born. As she continued to drink, she offered the excuse that she did “continue to drink for the sake of her marriage”. She never took ownership of her problems and the problems they might have caused for her son.

Environmentally and genetically, he never had an opportunity to thrive with his narcissistic mother. That is not an excuse for any of his behaviors. Many people go on to surpass abuses and victimization. Others do not. Does a narcissistic mother create a psychopath? I have no answer for that. I don’t think anyone does. There are many views and reasons on how a psychopath is created. I had the opportunity to live with one. I still suffer to this day from the experience.

Peace.

Sorceress.
.

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…The Beginning Of Daniel’s Many PFA Violations & The Fight For Truth)

I was upstairs in my bathroom washing my hair when the phone rang. My dog, Sabbath, curled on the bathroom rug, at my feet. She was a Belgian Malinois, a beautiful dog that I had raised from about three months old. She was my dog, faithful to me, always trotting after my feet, guarding the homestead, herding the cats playfully, and taking nuts from Hendrix, my cockatoo. As dogs go, she will always rank up there in the top. I miss her greatly.

Daniel was calling, one day after the judge had evicted him from the home. He was telling me he was about to break the front door down to get inside. I told him he wasn’t allowed anywhere near 300 feet of my home, my business, or me. With my hair dripping wet, phone in hand, and ready to hit 911, I heard the wood frame around the front door cracking under pressure from some sort of tool downstairs.

I ran downstairs quickly, Sabbath following. Any cat in existence had long vanished. The front door was standing on its hinges ajar, and there was Daniel on the front porch, about to enter my home. I had just called 911. So much for a Protection From Abuse Order.

“You aren’t allowed in the home, Daniel.” I quietly said. I knew the police were on their way, and there was no point in screaming. He told me he had returned to acquire some of his things. “There was no reason to take the door off its hinges and ruin it, Daniel.”, I said. “Get back out on the porch,” I said, as I saw he was beginning to cross the threshold of the front door. He did back up as I stepped forward.

He looked me in the eye and told me he was going in and taking what he wanted. Just like that. Screw the PFA. Screw what the judge had explained to him yesterday. Forget the idea that he could go to jail for six months for breaking the terms of the PFA. I looked beyond the porch and saw who else was with him. His mother. Sandra stood there on the ground also with a wicked smile and a gleam in her eyes and said nothing but this: “Is she not letting you in Dear? Then let’s call the police. She has to let you in. You are entitled to whatever you want. I’ll call them now for you, Daniel.”

He started to cross the threshold again, and I grabbed his elbow, two fingers on either side. I should mention that Daniel had surgery on his elbow a few years back because he had fallen from a roof when he was a roofer years back. Doctors couldn’t repair the elbow properly, and at times, he would be in much pain. I knew the vulnerable points and I squeezed just ever so delicately. He winced and I said simply, “Don’t go any further.” He again stepped back and decided to sit on the opposite side of the porch.

I then sat on the other end with Sabby. A patrol car arrived within minutes. The officer quickly ran up on the porch and began yelling at Daniel. “Do you live here? Do you belong here? As I understand it, there is a PFA against you Mr. S. What makes you think you can blatantly walk onto this woman’s porch?”  Daniel wouldn’t answer the officer. I don’t know why he wouldn’t answer. His mother was still on the ground in front of the house.

The officer walked up to me and quietly asked me if I had changed the locks. I told him I hadn’t yet, I had just received the PFA less than 8 hours ago, and was in the process that day of having someone change the locks and secure my home. I also told him it didn’t matter for the front door now, because of what he had now broken, and how the door stood half off its hinges. The officer took one look, and told Daniel he was going in to be arrested.

Daniel then yelled that he wanted “his dog”. The officer walked over to me and asked me again, quietly, who was the true owner of the dog. I explained to him that I had purchased the dog from Daniel, before I knew him, back in 1999, and had paperwork to verify my purchase. Sabbath belonged to me. That satisfied the officer. The officer then took Daniel off the porch and put him in his car telling him he could tell the judge why he felt it necessary to come to my home and damage the door. The officer told him to explain to the judge why he needed to break the PFA one day after it was issued.

I now had a front door to be repaired, locks to be recast, and a house to be secured. I knew I had a number of chores to do before the day was over. Never did I think the next question would be asked of me by this officer.

Sandra had pulled the officer aside after her son was being arrested for breaking the PFA. In the last post, I explained that Sandra was not adamant in giving Daniel his medicines for his diagnoses. She herself had visited psychiatrists and had been given psychiatric medicines that she wouldn’t take because she felt they weren’t necessary. She already knew her son was a drug addict and was back hitting the streets for his drugs of choice, and she was about to cover any story for him that she could dream possible.

When I saw her talking with this officer, I figured he was explaining what would happen to Daniel, where he would go, and what the terms of the PFA were. I was wrong. Sandra was now concocting another lie about me. Suddenly, the officer walks back to me, and asks me this question, “When was the last time you visited Sandra in the hospital?”

What an odd question. What does this have to do with what just happened at my home? Nothing, that I can put together. “That’s an easy question,” I told the officer. “October 31st, 2004. We had a gathering at this home. She feigned a heart attack again. Jonathan, the paramedic, was here, and he administered first aid to her. She had been brought to a hospital in the city. The doctors at this hospital wanted to admit her to the psychiatric unit there, realized she hadn’t had any medical problems and thought she would be a good candidate for their mental health unit. But she discharged herself at 4 a.m. AMA (against medical advice), called us at 4 a.m. to tell us, and took a cab home. She hasn’t been in the hospital since.”

He looked at me for only a moment. “She’s been in the hospital since then. Apparently, some January. And she’s saying that you escorted her to the hospital, and while there, stole her credit cards and used them. She wants me to bring you in for credit card theft.” Then he looked me directly in the eye, frowned a bit, and a very small laugh escaped his lips. My face must have surprised him. The myriad of expressions also must have told him that I had no idea what he was talking about and this woman was fabricating a story on the spot because her son was now in trouble. He knew it but had to prove it.

“What do I do now?” I asked. “Our detectives will call you to get to the bottom of this.” he said. “In the meantime, you’ll be going to court for the PFA violation.” “You realize what she’s trying to do,” I said. “She’s trying to deflect the situation. This woman is just as ill as her son. I never knew she was hospitalized some January.”  His hands were tied as he had two situations to handle. He didn’t know either of us, and he had been called to a home to handle a PFA, and then given information about a credit card theft. By the law and his badge, he needed to report and investigate both. I understood.

How the officers handled the situation and how the city came to handle me next was suspect at best, pathetic and showed a lack of understanding of truly psychiatrically ill people. Now a domestic abuse victim was becoming an accused suspect in a bogus credit card theft.  And the police department was allowing this bogus story of theft to override the fact that I was a victim of two very ill people.

What this family’ did next in the continuing web of lies against me took me months to clear. But the truth always stands clear and cannot be broken. No matter how shrouded with darkness and deceit truth still shines like a beacon of light at the end of a tunnel. Through my ordeal of perpetuated lies by them, I always looked for that pharos to show me hope and security. Try as they might to charge me, they couldn’t. Try as they might to harass me, they did their best job.

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…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…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