Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…She Must Have Stalked Me, Your Honor)

I’ve taken a break from writing this blog about Daniel. I’ve needed a much-deserved break. Writing about him, writing about his mental illness, writing about his victimization of people is a difficult task. Separating pity from detailing information is my first priority for my readers. There should never be pity, but there always should be compassion and empathy for victims and Survivors of abusers. Abusers, psychopaths, compulsive liars, sociopaths are manipulators and con artists. They will twist and turn the truth to their willing audiences. They will parrot information back to their listeners easily to make the other person their ally. It’s in their nature. It’s one of their personality traits that goes unnoticed very easily by the general public. And it’s one of the most dangerous traits that most people don’t realize is what makes them succumb to the psychopath’s will.

When I appeared in court with Daniel, my daughter accompanied me. I did not know who would accompany Daniel. My daughter, who had been in and out of the Chelsea home, had known Daniel throughout the years that I was with him, and was well qualified to speak to the judge about any concerns that I had should the judge question her as a witness. My daughter also has a degree in criminal psychology. She was my support in the court system and her opinion would have been well-versed.

Daniel brought with him apparently his current girl friend. I can only determine “current girl friend” because of her behavior when she saw me. She fawned over him in the court room, and Daniel kept backing away from her advances. When our names were called, she also followed him to the front tables and stood there. I’m not sure why, but she decided she would be present in front of the judge, although she had no bearing on this case.

My daughter later told me that this woman looked so much like I did, that the resemblance was remarkable. Her height was the same as mine, her coloring, her haircut, her hair color, even her build-she was pretty much identical to me. Other than the way I was dressed for court, my daughter said, this woman could have been me dressed in jeans, boots and a hoodie on a casual day. At the time, all I thought was that he must have the same taste in women. But there was more to her looks than I thought. There apparently was a reason she could have been my twin or my sister. I would find that out later.

The Judge asked me why I wanted a Protection From Abuse. I began to speak, barely beginning with, “Your Honor, I have had three PFA’s in the past against this man. I am now asking you to…” I was interrupted very loudly with “That’s bogus!” by Daniel. I turned to look at him. He began speaking rapidly at the judge. Daniel began telling him that I was a vindictive woman, who was angry with him, because we weren’t together any longer, and that anything that would come out of my mouth would be “bogus”.

I could begin to feel my blood racing. My eyes were opening wider and wider. I was standing no more than two feet away from this man. Now this woman he had brought began to yell at the judge, telling him that yes, indeed, I was a vindictive woman who wanted to make trouble for them. She began pointing fingers at me, and also yelling. My daughter was grasping my elbow, to steady me, and whispering to me to stay calm. The judge is listening to Daniel speak loudly and forcefully, and asking the woman who she is and why is she involved in this matter, then telling her she has no business being involved and to please leave the table area, then he turns back to Daniel and tells him to continue. Leaning on his elbows, quite enraptured with Daniel, the judge listens to him. Quite a commotion he caused, showing the judge how women can be preposterous in a situation. The judge became enamored of Daniel, and literally showed little regard for any females. It was very well organized.

Daniel planned the opening well. He interrupted me one time, caused a scene, had this woman cause a larger scene, which in turn had the judge have her removed from the area. The judge then in turn, returned to Daniel to have him explain himself, thereby excluding me from the original conversation. I’m watching this, as if it’s all in slow motion. I say to the judge, “Excuse me, your Honor, you asked me a question. May I continue?” He tells me only one can talk at a time, and motions to Daniel to resume speaking.

I am now incensed. I’m sure my face reflected this. Daniel goes on to tell the judge that he was sitting peacefully in his living room watching television when the sheriff’s officers knocked on his door. He said he had absolutely no idea what they could want from him when they served the paperwork on him. I could tell you about his string of arrests and court appearances that have continued and still continue to this day as I write this post, but they don’t have any bearing on my business with Daniel.  He conveyed to the judge that he was a parody of a man who was simply living a quiet life that was being vindicated by a woman who could not let go. What he did was reverse the tables for the judge, play him for the fool, and make me appear the despicable person. The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality was coming out. Daniel was attempting to manipulate the court, the judge and the system again.

He then told the judge what I was waiting to hear. “Your Honor, I don’t even know how she knew my address to serve me with these papers. She must have stalked me.” Words that made my head flip back.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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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…Sandra’s Credit Card Scam…Part Two.)

The police department did ask me to come in and speak to one of their detectives about this alleged credit card theft of Sandra’s.The lead detective began by first leaving me messages on my phone that sounded almost undecipherable. My daughter decided to attend with me as my witness and also, my interpreter.

I had decided that I didn’t need my attorney to attend since I knew I was innocent of all charges. I did, however, have one on retainer through this time period of their constant barrage of attacks on my home, my person and my reputation. At that time, since I was slowly learning to verbalize again, I needed an aide in helping to clarify my thoughts when speaking with someone else. My mind was clear and I could see the words but I had difficult pronouncing them and actually verbalizing them.

I was still walking at times with the aid of my walker, but if not needing the walker, always using my Canadian crutches. My body was still in physical healing mode from the horrific motor vehicle accident where Daniel had first tried to murder me and also, from his second attempt to murder me at home.

I went in voluntarily to the department along with my daughter. The detective was curt and asked why I had brought her with me. She explained and produced a doctor’s letter of verification about why her presence was needed at the interview. The detective threw the letter back at her and in a loud voice said, “Do you speak English? Then you don’t need an interpreter.” He then took me by the elbow (I was using Canadian crutches) and led me to the back of the station). I turned back to look at my daughter with anger in my eyes at this officer, knowing my rights were being violated. My daughter knew my strength and my determination. She told me she’d be there waiting for me.

When the officer had me back in his interrogation room, I noted that he was alone, without any other officer present. He began talking to me in a loud, abusive voice, more of a yelling tone. He began by making derogatory comments about my condition and telling me that I didn’t need the crutches. Then he continued about this story of Sandra being in the hospital and her credit cards being stolen by me. I wouldn’t talk to him and I wouldn’t say one word. I’m sure my face showed pure anger at this man.

Finally, after a barrage of insults from him, after him repeating the story again, after him asking me repeatedly when was the last time I escorted Sandra  to the hospital, I finally decided to talk. And this is what I said to this officer. “There’s something wrong here. You’re playing good cop-bad cop. Only there’s one of you here. So where’s the good one?”

This only infuriated him more. But I knew Sandra’s story of me stealing her credit cards was fabricated and he had absolutely no facts to back it up. I knew he wasn’t going to arrest me because I had done nothing wrong and he could not prove anything about Sandra’s story. Her story had simply been a lie to attempt to deflect the original officer from focusing on the damage to my home Daniel had created when he attempted to break in the day after the PFA had been issued, along with the fact that her son had been in violation of the PFA within 24 hours. She had created a story to try to make me look as bad as her son in the eyes of the law. It couldn’t work because there was no truth to it.

“Am I under arrest?” I asked. “Are you holding me?” This officer was getting more and more furious with me. I was not answering any questions of his. His questions to me were of no validity. “What was charged?” he was asking. “Where were the credit cards used?” All of the questions this man was asking really weren’t for me. I quickly realized when he turned the questioning to where and what the charges were that Sandra’s cards may have been used by someone else, but certainly not by me. Sandra, in her convoluted thinking again, was going to try to blame me for someone else using her credit cards.

The flaw in her plan was that I was still recuperating from my motor vehicle accident. I hardly drove my vehicle and if I did, it was only a few blocks to the local store. I was speculating that whomever used her cards used them somewhere at a distance that I could not have physically been. Now I decided to say a few more words to this arrogant police officer.

“I will tell you just a few more thoughts, and then I’m done. The last time I knew Sandra to be admitted to the hospital was on October 31st of 2004 when she feigned a heart attack at my home on Chelsea. All three of my children were at my home and can verify this story. A man named J was also there who is a paramedic and he gave her emergency treatment until the paramedics arrived on scene. She was taken to the hospital, where doctors there deemed her physical health perfectly normal but her psychiatric health to be of doubt. They wanted to admit her to the psychiatric ward. She left the hospital AMA(against medical advice) at approximately 4 a.m. when she called my home and took a cab to her home. It’s the same story I told the original officer when asked, it’s what I told you on the telephone when you first inquired, and the story hasn’t changed. There’s a reason for that. Because it’s the truth. I’m done talking to you.” There was a fire in my eyes, I remember. And I’m sure he saw it.

The man looked at me levelly, rather coldly. I just stared evenly back. I was tired, but disgusted with the Police Department’s Detective Division and their way of handling cases. This was getting ridiculous and my rights had been violated. I was innocent. But I knew at this point someone else was guilty of stealing her cards and using them. Sandra had the police convinced I had taken them. She was surreptitiously using the fact that there were charges on her cards not made by her and attempting to blame me for them when in reality, she knew who had used the cards.

All of a sudden, the officer began talking in a normal voice. “I knew you didn’t steal her cards. It was her son, Danny, all along. I always figured it had to be him. We had to check out her story, though. She blamed you and said you took the cards and made the charges. But we knew it was him that took her to the hospital in January of 2006, alone. You weren’t present. We knew from hospital records you weren’t present at her admission. He was the one that had access to her purse, her wallet, her cards. He was the one that stole the cards and used them. You’re free to go.”

Just like that. “You’re free to go.” Friggin’ free to go. After the harassment. After the blame of being called a credit card thief. After being left arrogant, obnoxious messages by this detective on the phone repeatedly and then in person. After being objectionably interrogated by this officer when all along he knew I was innocent but because it is his “job”, he had to investigate her finger-pointing at me. He turned and left the room, leaving me there. Just leaving me there by myself. I slowly walked out on my own with my crutches to my daughter, who was waiting outside. She was anxious to find out what had transpired. All I could say to her was, “Let’s get out of here. It was Daniel that stole his mother’s credit cards and used them. Sandra tried to twist it on me.”

I don’t know that I could make these stories up. Sandra’s thinking was bizarre and twisted and she would use her fury on anyone that she perceived to get in her path. Because she was so ill, so perverse, no one really knew what she was thinking and concocting in her mind. Now I know why her daughter escaped her, never looking back and refusing to talk to her. Her husband hated her and had planned to escape her, too. Lester died before he could leave her. The woman was pure evil and spawn a demon. That demon is Daniel.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Sandra’s Credit Card Scam…)

Daniel had been reprimanded for breaking the PFA. But because his mother Sandra had shrouded his contempt of the court order with an alleged credit card scam attack on me, all hell was breaking loose and again, her son was falling through the cracks instead of being remonstrated for his behaviors. The woman was an amazing con artist who was good at turning the tables to her advantage when she saw the need. With her histrionic needs, she would not allow me to simply adhere to the rules of the Protection From Abuse Order I had obtained against her son through the court system and attempt to live my life quietly. In full force now, Sandra’s determination was geared towards destruction of the woman her son had formerly been living with.

All of her efforts were now directed at destroying my life while casting herself to be the lonely elderly widow who appeared disabled. I say “appear disabled” because while I was still using a walker from my accident and learning to walk with Canadian crutches, Sandra had bought a used walker and a used cane from the flea market where she sold Avon to use as her props. When she would appear by her son’s side in court for the PFA’s hearings, she would use this walker deliberately, walking very slowly in front of the judge to garner sympathy for herself. The walker she used had never been sanctioned by a physician, nor had a script been given to her by a physician for any physical disability either. She was simply using one because I had graduated to one from my wheelchair, and she wanted to be on an even playing field in her mind when she appeared before certain magisterial powers or police authorities. Because she was histrionic and narcississtic, she felt she must have the upper hand in a group of people and needed to be the center of attention. If that meant buying a walker and canes from a flea market and pretending to use them for sympathy, then she would do it. And she did.

I can honestly say that I know the woman didn’t need these appliances, but simply used them for sympathy at various times. I had seen her many times driving around my home and standing on my property without the walker or cane in sight. When I caught her rummaging through my garbage cans she was standing on her own two feet with no assistance of any aids. She was perfectly capable of running to her car when she saw me in my yard telling her to leave my property. With her narcissistic personality traits, being the center of attention meant doing whatever she felt necessary to get the attention she needed to satisfy her sick psychiatric urges.

Now looking back, I wonder what the judges thought looking at two women walking into their courtrooms, both with physical aids. Sandra was a good actress, she had years of experience. I wasn’t acting. Many times I was in dire physical pain and I’m sure the agony showed on my face. I’m sure my disgust and astonishment of her lies also showed on my face too. The woman never ceased to amaze me with her lies and deceit. She fooled many people, but not all.

Doc Holly dismissed her as her patient when I received the PFA to evict Daniel. She knew the horrors that this family had put me through and also, their psychiatric background. She also knew I was a victim of these two people and probably felt it better if this family found another doctor so that I would never be around them again. When she discovered Daniel was doing street drugs through a routine blood test, he denied it. She told him she had sent the blood work for a triple-check to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the results had all come back the same. She gave him one month to prove to her that he wasn’t doing drugs. He had to go to her office weekly and give her a urine test. At the end of the month, he failed all of the tests and he was dismissed as a patient. She told him she didn’t treat drug addicts. This was also at the time of his eviction by the judge. And because of Sandra’s interference and disbeliefs about her son, and also, about her own psychiatric problems that she wouldn’t address, she was dismissed as a patient. I don’t fault her for letting certain patients go. You can only help some. And those that lie to you shouldn’t waste your time.

One of city’s finest caught her in her web of deceit and lies when she was attempting to anonymously call the police department about me and he tracked the calls back to her home. And naturally, her psychiatrist knew all along what her true disposition was, had been prescribing medication and could only attempt to help her but a doctor can only do so much. And of course, the truths always revealed that she was lying about me when she would be investigated. That is, only when and if someone bothered to investigate this woman who stood on a façade of being a lonely, withered senior citizen widow that was ailing when in reality, none of that was true at all. She played people like Clapton plays his guitar or Armstrong played his trumpet. And she never looked back.

So the truths were finally coming out about the Smith family, or so it seemed. But there was still a Journey to be traveled with them. It wasn’t over yet, not by any means.

Next, the detectives interrogation.

Peace.

Sorceress.

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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…The Lies Become Their Own Truths…)

Lyrics by Nickelback

Never Again lyrics
Songwriters: Kroeger, Michael; Vikedal, Ryan; Kroeger, Chad; Peake, Ryan;

He’s drunk again
It’s time to fight
She must have done something wrong tonight
The living room becomes a boxing ring
It’s time to run when you see him

Clenching his hands
She’s just a woman
Never again

I hear her scream from down the hall
Amazing she can even talk at all
She cries to me
Go back to bed
I’m terrified that she’ll wind up

Dead in his hands
She’s just a woman
But never again
Been there before
But not like this
Seen it before
But not like this
Never before
Have I ever seen it this bad
She’s just a woman
Never again

Just tell the nurse you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you
She wants the truth
It’s right out there in the waiting room

With those hands
Lookin’ just as sweet as he can
Never again
Seen it before
But not like this
Been there before
But not like this
Never before
Have I ever seen it this bad
She’s just a woman
Never again
Never again

Father’s a name you haven’t earned yet
You’re just a child with a temper
Haven’t you heard, don’t hit a lady
Kickin’ your ass would be a pleasure

Oh
Ohh
He’s drunk again it’s time to fight
Same old shit just on a different night
She grabs the gun
She’s had enough
Tonight she’ll find out
How fucking tough

Is this man
Pulls the trigger fast as she can
Never again
Seen it before
But not like this
Been there before
But not like this
Never before
Have I ever seen it this bad
She’s just a woman

Never again
Seen it before
But not like this
Been there before
But not like this
Never before
Have I ever seen it this bad

She’s just a woman
Never again
Never again
Never again
Never again

Taken from: http://www.elyrics.net/read/n/nickelback-lyrics/never-again-lyrics.html. This site also has readers interpretations of the song. The Never Again lyrics by Nickelback is copyrighted and eLyrics.net is featuring all nickelback songs for non-commercial use only.Never Again by Nickelback, Live At Sturgis 2006 is my favorite version and can be seen at Youtube. 

Never Again is the title of a song by Nickelback, a song that very well could be a mantra for women in abusive relationships. People assume that abusive relationships are easily spottable, that you can see the bruises, the marks that he has left on her. How untrue this is!

We all know some women hide their marks for their own personal reasons, such as fear of being discovered, embarassment and protection of their children and pets at home. But there are other types of marks that are not seen as visible and are hidden from people, not because a woman wants to hide them. They are hidden because they simply cannot be seen to the naked eye.

What can be seen about these marks are the tell-tale signs of emotional abuse and psychological abuse that a psychopath, a narcissist, a cluster-B personality, a sociopath, a borderline personality, etc.,  leaves after he inflicts his personal damage on his victim. In my former posts, I have spoken of the psychopath, the narcissist, the borderline personality, the narcissistic personality, the histrionic personality, the antisocial personality and the sociopath. For clarification purposes here is a definition of the Cluster B personality:

Four cluster B personality disorders are described in DSM-IV:[1]

From:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cluster_B_personality_disorders.

Daniel and his mother had been diagnosed with everything included in the the Cluster B personality disorder list. I had been living my personal nightmare with two people on a daily basis that lived the life of these disorders. For most of that time period, I was a prisoner, in a wheelchair, forced to depend upon these two very psychiatrically ill people. They were able to fool many people during the time period I was with them, including the judicial system and people that were supposed to be looking out for victims.

I will say that at times, there were those in the County Court System that would attempt to talk to me but Sandra would always intercept them. During the times that I would be called into court to testify against Daniel for a PFA, or when he attempted to murder me with a butcher knife, I was still either in a wheelchair, still non-verbal from the motor vehicle accident, or learning to verbalize again. Sandra would take these times as her advantage to speak for me and tell the courts and their administrators what she wanted them to hear.

This was torturous for me. I would look at the administrators with eyes that were pleading. Sometimes, I thought they might take me back into another room to talk alone. But that never happened. At other times, because I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, I felt that if I let Sandra lie about her son I would still be taken care of by her. I didn’t have anyone else to turn to. The courts weren’t helping me, and if they weren’t aiding me when I needed them, how could I turn to them for any type of help?

Sandra had inherited a great deal of money when her husband Lester had passed away in 1999, and she now had the means to use this money any way she saw fit. If it meant using money to hire the most expensive lawyer to free her son from the charges against him when he was arrested for attempted murder, she would do it. And she did. Even tho Daniel tried to asphyxiate me with pillows, tried to choke me with his hands, threw me against a solid oak door, then held a butcher knife to my neck and abdomen before I was able to break loose and the police broke into the home on Chelsea, his sentence was only 364 days of probation, time served, and an anger management course. 

Because Sandra always had a police scanner on at her home, she knew of the incident occurring in real-time at the Chelsea home. She was waiting outside with the police while they were on the line with 911. 911 was listening to the entire incident on my telephone, which had been placed by me on the kitchen table in the kitchen while Daniel was holding the butcher knife to my neck and abdomen and telling me he bought the butcher knife to “motherfucking kill me”.

When Daniel was finally taken into custody, and I was let back into my home, Sandra barged her way in to see what the officers were saying to me. I could barely speak, because of the attempted strangulation. My throat was closing, my vocal chords were raspy and there were strangulation marks around my neck. I was near hysteria. The officer wanted to take a statement. I wanted to write my statement down on his paperwork.

Sandra instead grabbed the papers and offered her opinion of what went on in the house. Because of her beguiling ways and seductiveness, she managed to convince the officer that she was able to understand what I was saying and he began to write what Sandra was telling him. I was in shock at the time from the entire incident. The officer told her I needed to be brought to the emergency room to be checked for injuries. She promised him that she, of course, would take me. Because I was in shock, and Sandra was convincing in her own lies to the officer, he believed her. It was her lies against my barely audible, rasping voice wrapped in a shocked demeanor that the officer should have recognized. Sandra told the officer that Daniel had “problems”, and didn’t “mean” to do these things, that he needed “help”.

Where did the officer go wrong in his thinking? How could he allow this woman to write my statement? She was not present at the time of the incident. She was at her home. He never asked me if I wanted her to write my statement. I could not speak because of the choking. I was in shock. I should have had immediate medical assistance. It was obvious that this officer was not trained properly. To allow this woman to give my statement to him was beyond belief. That was the beginning of Daniel falling through the cracks on this one.

The one assistance that this officer did offer to me was his insistence that I go to the emergency room. I wanted to go by ambulance for my safety. Sandra somehow convinced him that it would be better if a family member took me, and he allowed her to take me. Again, I was left in the hands of one of my captors. She did take me to the ER. The officer did call to the hospital to check if I was taken there, however, but he did not follow through on speaking with the doctor or nurses. He only asked to speak to me directly at the phone at the emergency room. I could barely speak, and all he asked is if I was getting treatment, and then hung up. That was all.

Had this officer done his job properly, I would have been rid of Daniel that night. There would have been a good chance of him being put away if a proper statement had been taken, if this officer had truly documented my condition, the condition of the home, and looked for the knife and the other instruments that I wanted to tell him about. But Sandra intercepted it all to protect her son. I tried to talk and get the officer’s attention, but it appeared that I was in shock to him and near hysteria (as Sandra told him). I was not. I wanted him to know what had happened. I was horrified at what was happening to a crime scene. Sandra was covering it up and knew it. She was taking me away and frankly, I wondered what her next step would be.

When a disturbed psychiatric personality gets away with lies all of their life, they begin to believe them. When their lies are supported by someone who is integrally close to them in their own support network, such as Daniel’s mother was to him, and she supported his lies and lied for him, those lies became truths to the both of them. Lying continuously was as natural to them as breathing is to the human body. Pathological lying, or Pseudologia fantastica, can be present in the illnesses that Daniel and his mother have. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathological_lying.

The judge at the time of the charges wouldn’t give Daniel the usual 10% of the bail reduction and his bail had been set at $30,000.00. Sandra put her own money down for her son’s bail at the time, and it didn’t make any difference to her what the amount was. The judge wouldn’t release him because of psychiatric reasons. Daniel had attempted suicide when they first brought him to the prison. What else was new for Daniel? After all, attempting suicide was commonplace for him.

Whirlwinds. That’s what my time with this family seems to me now. It seemed like that back then also. Sandra throwing her money to wherever she thought it might help. To placate me with letting her son die during one of his suicide attempts, to putting money up for his bail, it didn’t matter to her. She spent it as carelessly as Lester had saved it behind her back.

As much as they were plotting in their sick, twisted minds to hurt people and always have their own way in their sick minds, I was plotting just as much to get out of this sick, perverted life they had created for me. In their minds, I was their ticket to some type of sanity, to a type of class that Sandra could never attain to, an education status that Sandra never had. Sandra often talked about growing up in her words “on the wrong side of the tracks” and how she married Lester to attain a status she had always wanted.

When she met  me, she realized she had met a woman who could open doors for her. Little did I know back then, doors were about to close for me. And those doors would be locked for years until I could find the keys to open them. The struggle seemed insurmountable at times, almost impossible. But I had a will and I held on to it. Because of that will and that hope, I am here today.

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