A three part post
Part 1: IN RETROSPECT
I spent 17 years in a marriage to a man with the most psychologically twisted persona I had ever encountered. He looked just like any regular guy. I had no idea what I was dealing with until it was too late. After 17 years of pain and stress, with costs to my health, both mental and physical, I left him.
After divorcing him, I endured 16 more years of harassment and stalking, spying, breaking and entering and smear campaigns. First he played the victim and cried long and hard about "what was I trying to do kill him?" Then when I didn't respond to him he turned his pain into rage using retaliation and crazy making and parental alienation. He deliberately turned my children against me while I fought desperately to save them from themselves and worked to put a roof over their heads and feed and clothe them. This continued until he died an early death at the age of 54. He not only obsessed himself to death but drank and drugged himself into liver failure. At this point I thought I was free and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely now, we could find peace as a family, my children and I, but No…
He left his legacy of hate and emotional instability along with predatory ferocity to his children. For the next 14 years I would watch as they disintegrated into carbon copies of their father. I wanted to forgive them for betraying me at his behest. I knew his consequences were a real threat and motivator for them to comply. I can forgive them for acting on what they didn't know, hadn't witnessed or experienced because I shielded them from its horrors. What I couldn't excuse is their adult choice to mistreat those who loved them and befriended them by: emotionally swindling their hearts out of love, robbing them of their money, time possessions and self -worth, siphoning off their energy, well-being and health, and deliberately fraying their nerves to the point of desperation. They should have known by then, that love is best when reciprocal.
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Part 2: THE CHRONICLES
Both children had married, had children, divorced and turned the lives of their families and friends into piles of rubble and chaos. I watched in horror as I tried to turn my son into a father and lead my daughter into a loving vision of herself rather than a raging vindictive narcissist. It didn't take. My over functioning didn't do one bit of good. For the first time I had to consider that predisposition and genetics were a viable factor in all this. Predisposition alone does not predict psychopathy but genetics never change and cannot be changed. What was the dominant gene in this case and where did it come from?
At the end of 2014, when I withdrew my unconditional love and support from my son and told him no more, he sold his house, spent the money at the casino and ran away with his drug addicted girlfriend, leaving his children without a father and he never looked back. He traveled from the west coast to the east coast and back again with several stops in between. There were reports of his being placed in a mental hospital and that the two of them were experiencing hallucinations and swore the trees were talking and that people were watching them through their roofs and the car mirrors were moving. I didn't hear from him until 2016 when he called me on HIS birthday. I didn't answer the phone so he left a recorded message. He was accusing me of spying on him and that he was going to get an attorney to stop me. (Like he could afford that) His girlfriend was coaching him in the background to tell me to quit harassing them. I hadn't bothered them since my objections in 2014 but plenty of credit companies, repo men and banks were looking for him. I didn't answer the message. Sorrowfully, he had sealed his fate with me and was no longer a part of my life. I faced my grief over the loss of a family member who was still alive but not fully here in the flesh or even in his right mind. No closure. The emotions were conflicting. Would I choose his hypothetical death or my life? Maybe both? A few years after, I found out where he was and I decided to send him a text that would set my record straight and get closure for myself. He was not going to keep me hostage to his passive aggressive silent treatment through disappearance and games of hide and seek! I never heard from him again (He knew better) but his incensed and outraged girlfriend called me leaving several messages and obscene recordings. I knew then that I had hit a nerve. It wouldn't be long before I found out that I had hit another nerve by sending this message. My daughter was enraged by the information that I had contacted him and she was calling people to find out who had divulged this very secret phone number and location of his to me. She was furious about it and had some pretty nasty things to say about me to her contacts. It was odd that she should become so unhinged over this because nothing in my text said anything about her. Her fury didn't fit and it gave her away as a conspirator and my personal enemy. I knew that sending my son this message was against the rules of No Contact and is not advisable in the case of a dangerous malignant narcissist but it was imperative for my sanity. Therefore, I had to risk it.
It wouldn't be long before he and his girlfriend split up over charges of his domestic violence. Personal responsibility was upon him. I had no qualms about my decision to stay out of it. No rescuing or reassuring. Having been in a domestic violence relationship myself, I couldn't begin to condone his behavior.
Getting back to 2015: On the back burner of life, my daughter was cooking up her own recipe for manipulation and control. She invited me over to her house for a visit. I sensed that I might be headed straight for the stew pot. She loved stirring the pot, so I took my husband with me just for security. She initiated the conversation by indicating dissatisfaction with her reconciliation with her ex-husband and asked which was worse; divorce or living with someone you had problems with. My response was that neither one was easy if that was what she was looking for. She then started hinting about money and began to tell stories about her ex as being a temperamental, pouting, sulker who was upset with her and the kids because she was emotionally distant. She told him to get over it because she was not a touchy feely person and that was just who she was, like it or not. Red flags started popping up. My guts started to spin. I recognized the signs of twisting truths to fit her needs and for smearing the other person and putting her faults onto him. It had all been done to me and it was uncomfortably familiar. I told her I was not going to give her money to leave her ex. She would have to make that decision on her own. She smirked at me through her disappointment and carried on about how she had talked her father-in-law into changing his will so that he left his inheritance to their children and not to her ex, his only son. She brought up the movie the Burning Bed and borrowed pieces of my life to upgrade her situation as a victim. More red flags! She had set her scene carefully and had cookies on the stove and was hugging her children as if to show me that she was a nurturing mother. By now I was getting sick to my stomach. I had to get away from there. I had that uneasy feeling of being too close to a toxic person. She had played her ex into taking her back in because they were both literally bankrupt from the divorce she caused. It also sounded like she was also turning her children against him. Who knows how much of what she said that night was true but I had to take it at face value. Finally, I said it was getting late and that we would be back to give her the food I had promised her at another time. We left it there.
When we delivered the food we had promised her, she had locked the house against us, even though we had called ahead and she knew we were coming over. When I called her on it she blamed it on the kids. That was it. I left her a text that read: "No contact please. Enough is enough". We were done that day and I haven't talked to her since. She has tried a few times to reel me back in and has organized some vengeful acts against me through friends but I have refused to engage. She had even organized a trip to our vacation home for my son putting someone else up to asking to use it for himself. We figured out that this was a con when it didn't add up. Pay attention when things don't pass the smell test. I finally recognized that I could not afford to ever see her or talk to either of them again. This is not a lack of love but a very necessary step for self- protection and self-care.
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Part 3:THE PAINFUL TRUTH BRINGS FREEDOM
The old adage, "Who do you believe, me or your eyes?" is a valid question for discerning the truthfulness of a situation or person. When dealing with a narcissist, an addict or a psychopath, it is really harder to differentiate. They live to confuse you with lies and omissions and they are master chameleons. They skillfully avoid your truth radar. By the time you awaken from their intoxicating poison, you have been hoodwinked many times. It is a sad day when you must face the news that someone you love has been tricking you for years. Honesty never was or never would be a part of their character.
In August of 2014, a person I barely knew gave me quite possibly one of the greatest gifts I could have ever received in this life. She freed me from the confused reality I was living. She gave me the gift of the 'painful truth'. I had been operating from a base of false information for at least 35 years: When people lie to you repeatedly and hide behind secret agendas, your reality changes and you live a life blinded by misconceptions. Although I had suspicions of my own during these years I could never prove what she, through her tears and hurt about her relationship with my son, made perfectly clear. My children had mastered the art of lying and perfected the skill of misrepresentation to the point of ruining lives, my own included. It was abundantly clear, for the first time in a long time, that I had been betrayed and played by a couple of pros. It pierced my heart and cut so deeply that I was in complete shock and nearly lost it. I wished so much for a reason not to believe her, but there was none. There was undeniable proof. Eventually, through time and much soul searching and a wise and compassionate psychiatrist whom I think the world of, my shock turned into gratitude. This day transformed my life in ways this woman will never know and perhaps will never be able to appreciate as much as I do. We never became friends and we went our separate ways, and yet, I will never forget her. She has her own broken heart to mend, as do I. But, I thank her every day for being the catalyst that broke the spell that had been killing me one day at a time for 30 plus years.
Be grateful to those harshest lessons in life, they can bring you the greatest gifts in the ugliest packages. It is up to you to transform them into the beautiful present they will become.
Thank you for reading my story. Take care of yourselves.
