Stop Those Green Men!

So one evening I’m laying in bed watching tv with him and he turns to me with this look of desperation and pleading in his eyes and says, “Stop those Green Men! Please! You know how to make them go away!”  I side-ways look at him, thinking he’s joking or god knows what, but he’s not. He’s dead-serious. Really dead-serious. There’s this look of timidity in his eyes that I had rarely seen.

So I ask him where the Green Men are. He points to the bottom of the bed. He starts cowering under the covers. His body is beginning to tremble. His eyes are luminous as he’s alternately staring at me and the foot of the bed. He keeps begging me to get rid of them, because only I can.

So I decide to pretend that I do see these Green Men. After all, if he thinks I have power over them, and they have power over him, well, you do the math here. He’s freaking out, hiding under the covers and I’m talking to airspace sternly, asking them why they’re here for Daniel. I finally point at “them” and tell “them” to leave so he can come up for air.

That seemed to placate him, altho he still hid under the covers for awhile and then finally went to sleep. So now the psychopath was seeing things-people. In his mind, I could get rid of them. Like I’ve said before, his mind was interesting. But the Green Men was a new addition. He was getting worse, making my time shorter.

I had been planning on escaping, but now I had to up everything in timing. None of this was easy, it never was and still isn’t. It just gets easier now when I have to recall it. At least I’m not as wiped out as before. Now it’s more of yeah, that happened, I survived kind of thing while the other person looks at me strangely not understanding why I’m not locked up or an addict dulling my pain.

I’m not doing any of those things because I won’t let him take me down. The only person that can do that is me. He’s just not worth it. I’m too busy living my life, and I have a huge bucket list with a life to live ahead of me. Too many years were wasted while I had to recuperate in a wheelchair from the accident he caused trying to murder me, then years as a hostage in my home under his mother and him while they alternately poisoned and took care of me. I fought my way out and I’d do it again. Like I said, the only person that can take me down is 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 Master Manipulator.)

I own a 6 piece set of antique press-back farm chairs. They have cane seats. Over time, the caning needs strengthening. When I lived with Daniel, I had noticed that a few of the seats needed work, so I decided to send them in to an antiques dealer I knew that specialized in working with antique furniture. She and I had built a relationship over the years and I had bought many items from her antique store.

It was only the cane work that needed strengthening. None of it had loosened, it was just sagging. I had called her and described the chairs, some of which she was familiar with because I had purchased them from her. She told me to bring them in and she would take care of them. Not a problem at all.

I told Daniel to bring them to the antiques dealer showroom for repair. He packed them in the back of his truck securely and left. Or so I thought. Somewhere between my home and the antique shop, a short distance of a few miles, Daniel made a destructive decision.

Later I received a phone call from the antiques dealer. She was very distraught. She told me the repairs on the chairs would be extensive. She asked why I hadn’t described the damage more accurately. After all, she said, both of us knew each other for so long, there was no reason to hide anything.

Hide anything, I questioned. What was I hiding? I told her that the seats were sagging where the cane inserts were placed. That’s what needed to be repaired. She hemmed a bit, and seemed upset. At the time, I was confused by the phone call. I had sent antique chairs in with Daniel with seats that had only sagging cane work, and yet I was being told in a mysterious phone call that my chair repair was going to cost far more than I had anticipated, take much longer in time and somehow I felt as if I was the one being blamed for the damage to the chairs.

I should add that this happened during the time I was non-mobile, still wheel-chair bound from my motor-vehicle accident. I was not able to drive, so I could not go directly to the antique dealer to visualize for myself and see what she was talking about. I was literally stuck at home. Still a prisoner. Still a captive of the Smith family, not yet aware of what they were doing behind my back. I was to found out a few years later.

The antiques dealer did not sound very friendly as she usually did, as a matter of fact, she told me Daniel was there with her while she was talking to me. Since I was unaware at the time of what he was capable of doing, I had absolutely no idea of what really was going on at that moment in the antique dealers store. I would later found out.

It took months for me to get my chairs back. I would call and ask how the repairs were going, and was told various stories. They were back-logged, they were on vacation, etc., but never the truth at the time. Finally, about six months later, I received my chairs. One, in particular, was never fully repaired. The wood seat on it had been broken. I was upset. Daniel told me he had argued with the antiques dealer about their work, but to no avail. I later found out that was his lie.

Roughly four years later, after Daniel was out of the house, I visited this antiques dealer. I was determined to find out what had happened with my chairs. That conversation still set in mind as one that was out-of-place, as mysterious.

What she told me that day still haunts me and I don’t know why Daniel did what he did. But I do know that she was frightened by him. I understand now that she was frightened when she called me for her own reasons when he was standing in her store. I can imagine why. I don’t know the exact words he told her why the chairs were in the condition they were when he brought them in. But I do know who he said was responsible for their demise.  Which would make sense as to her hesitance in speaking with me. She was told I had a very serious anger problem and damaged/destroyed things.

At first, she was slightly hesitant to talk to me. She remembered the chairs. She, of course, remembered me. We hadn’t seen each other in a few years. I couldn’t understand why she was behaving in such a stand-offish manner. I would understand after she told me her story.

She told me he brought her chairs that were in pieces. None of them were in usable condition. Not only was the cane split apart, but there were posts broken, legs broken and damage beyond what she had ever imagined. She had been horrified. She could never imagine (me) her client asking her to repair such work.

My face, as she told me this story, was one of stone cold silence. All the pieces of the puzzle had been coming together at that point in 2006 about things Daniel and his mother Sandra had done. This was just another to add. She realized as she told me this that I had nothing to do with the breaking of the chairs. She knew at this point that I was no longer with the psychopath, that I was attempting to find clues to answer questions. Since she and I had known each other for many years, she trusted in me at that point to be honest enough to tell me what had actually happened that day years before.

She said at the time she felt powerless, frightened and somewhat intimidated with him standing there telling her to call me about the chairs. That explained her strange phone call. She really didn’t know what to say in front of him, alone in her store. She said she had felt very uncomfortable. The antiques dealer told me there was a strangeness, a coldness, a black look in his eyes. She said he seemed odd, and made the hairs on her neck stand up. But she took the chairs in for repair and did the best she could. We didn’t talk much about anything else. I could still see that discomfort and uneasiness in her eyes.

Little did she know that at that time she was staring down the eyes of a true psychopath. One that had just broken antique chairs for his own pleasure. Chairs that he had just told another he was packing securely to bring to an antique dealer to have repaired. Somewhere between the home and the antique store he had stopped off the road, and taken time to deliberately break and destroy six chairs into pieces. Then carry these pieces into her shop and calmly tell her a story about a woman she had known for years destroying the chairs. What the psychopath doesn’t realize is that their eyes give them away. When they are at the height of their episodes, their eyes take on such a coldness, such a black void, it is almost compelling to watch. Once seen it is never forgotten.

I wonder how many people who I once knew did Daniel make feel this way behind my back. It’s what these men do. It’s how they separate their prey. It’s how they keep women isolated without the women knowing it’s happening. They tell lies, they manipulate stories, they twist the truth. Those who know you are told stories of deceit to make them doubt you, to mislead them, to draw them away from you. Your friends, your acquaintances are misled, just as the original woman is, by the psychopath, who is skilled at manipulation. Whether through lies,  intimidation or outright fear tactics, the psychopath uses his skilled tactics to separate and isolate people. It’s his means of survival.

It could be your demise if you don’t realize it.

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.

Peace.

Sorceress.

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Red Flags #5-Oh Those Lies He Tells Me)

Red Flags Of The Psychopath

Red Flags Of The Psychopath

As promised, the next set of 25 best lies he will tell you to make your heart tremble. The lies that make you speechless. The words designed to wrap around your heart and mind to sweep you off your feet and run to him with arms wide open because… because…well, you just know, you feel he needs only you.

After all, he’s told you this over and over. How much he needs you. How much he runs to you. How much you’ve got him. Or how much he’s got you. You are at a loss for words. But you know he’s got you. With his beck and call, you’ll run. Drop whatever you’re doing and go to him. His plan is working.

You’re not exactly sure why it’s working so fast, so quickly, so rapidly. You have no idea why this man has you wrapped around his little finger the way he does, but he did it. And he did it in a matter of days, or hours, even.

His audience,you,  enraptured with the thought of sweet promises. You’ve given him the key. You wait up for him. After hours, wait up for him. His car is parked outside between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m.  Or  between 5 a.m. and 7 a.m.   Or between noon and 1:30. How about from 5 to 7:30 p.m.? Getting the idea here? Restricted hours?

But the words he tells you make it ok. It feels so good to you and him. His words make everything sound so right. Of course they do.He’s watched you, read you, listened to you  and is now playing back a newer version of you. The psychopath’s version. What a guy. All in a matter of weeks he was able to choose you, figure out your idiosyncrasies, and spit them back out at you to make you believe that he is so much like you. What a match for you. How long have you known him now? Ten days? He’s a quick one to make you feel like this, that psychopath.

Red Flags #4, as promised, the lies, the words designed to make you feel special or wanted or you just might be the one in his life to turn it around and be his one and only. Remember, these are words many people say to each other. These words are said out of context after only a few days. That isn’t normal behavior. Or is it?

1. I don’t sleep around, that’s not my style.

2. I’ve only slept with…let’s see…probably 6 or 7 women in my life.

3. I don’t really drink, maybe I’ll have a beer when I’m out with a friend, but that’s really a rare time.

4. Drugs? Nope.

5. My wife and I don’t have sex anymore. Haven’t in years. It’s a sad situation. That’s what makes me so happy I finally found a woman like you.

6. Interested in other women? Why would you say that? You’re the only one for me.

7. I’ve never been experimental in sex, never had the opportunity. Wish I could have. Thought I was freak to think I wanted to.

8. When I’m with a woman in a relationship, I’m with her only.

9. Who? No, I don’t know that woman you just mentioned. (yet you have proof.)

10. I always use a condom.

11. I could never lie to you, you’re too important to me, don’t you see that?

12. My only sexual fantasies are about you, is that ok with you? I hope you don’t mind….

13. Believe me, if we have sex, it won’t change the way I feel about you.

14. Of course I don’t want you for sex only.

15. No, I’ve never had rough sex, or alternative sex, or BDSM. That’s not what I’m into.

16. I’d never do anything to hurt you.

17. It’s you and me babe, I want to grow old with you, forever.

18. I’ll always take care of you, aren’t you my responsibility?

19.  I’ve never done this before…you know, had an affair.

20. I’ve never been in therapy, ever.

21. I’d like you even if you were a man.

22. Don’t worry, I’ll stand behind you if you get pregnant, after all, I want you to have my child.

23. My wife/gf was a whore/whored around, I can see you’re not like that.

24. Women should be put on pedestals, like you.

25. I adore you.

Do any of these sound confusing to you? Especially when said to you right at the outset of meeting a new man? Some of these comments wouldn’t be shared with someone you’ve just met. Some of them are personal. Some of them designed to confuse you, some to frustrate you. Most of them, a lot of them, all of them? Are lies when spewed from the mouth of the true psychopath.

When the pathological liar, when a psychopath begin to asses his victim, he must move quickly. He assesses, he learns everything he can, then he moves in for the kill. I don’t use that word lightly. Some psychopaths do murder. Some psychopaths are quite violent. At some point in the relationship, there will be a down turn, and he will lose interest in you. The honeymoon phase will end, he will begin to look elsewhere, and the berating will begin. He may hold on to you for his own personal reasons, he may not. Regardless, your so-called belief as an object of affection with a soul mate that you couldn’t believe was possible has now ended. He has now finished playing with his toy.

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