Well, isn’t shaking off the effects of a psychopathic relationship an uphill struggle. The problems are enhanced by the way the experience isolates you from the vast majority of your friends, family and everyone you know because they simply do not understand. My mom says “I knew she was strange, oh well, just never speak to her again and find yourself a nice girl”, my best friend says “block the bitch and get a new bird”, my colleague says “Mate, it sounds like you’ve dodged a bullet” then quickly changes the subject to football; while all of these are valid comments in any normal context they just don’t make me feel understood. I know it’s not their job to understand, I don’t expect them to understand but it would be nice if someone outside of counselling did.
I’m going to see my new counsellor tonight and she does get it. She says things like “wow that must be really crazy making” which has a massively calming effect. When I explain the way this psycho infected my life – she gets its. When I talk about how every song, every TV show, every place, sound and smell ties into her she understands the extent I’m talking about. These psychopaths mirror every single hope and dream you have. If you want to travel across America; they want to travel across America, if you want to live in a little village; they want to live in a little village, if you want to be trampled on by stampeding rhinos; they’ve always wanted that as well. They infect almost every aspect of your mental imagery and make a gullible fool like me feel like I’ve been found by my soulmate – I was finally understood.
I’d been lost at sea for a while when this beautiful creature found me. She boarded my already fragile life boat, made me feel safe and told me she knew a way to dry land. She made out that we’d fix the boat together and then proceeded to drill a hole in the hull before leaping off and leaving me to sink. The sad thing is, even though I knew she’d caused the damage, I paddled after her for near 2 years whilst desperately trying to plug the hole. She was already boarding other boats, ignoring me and occasionally appearing on the horizon in her pirate hat and shouting “I’m still here – keep paddling”.
I now realise that I wasn’t paddling after my lover’s boat. My frenzied romantic pursuit was comparable to chasing a half-eaten chicken nugget down a hill through nettles and broken glass – It was completely embarrassing. What made it all the more embarrassing was that this was happening in a stadium with friends and family all sat looking on and thinking “What is this complete and total moron actually doing – he must be insane”.
The whole thing was a delusion. In my desperation and sheer exhaustion I’d been fooled by my own brain and groomed by a crazy women. The problem wasn’t that she was a psychopathic manipulator (that’s someone else’s problem now); the problem was that I was lost at sea in that tatty boat in the first place. These twisted pirates exist and learning that has been difficult. Snapping out of my ignorance has been an experience I’ll never forget and nor should I.
It’s hard to accept that the whole thing was a lie. It’s so hard. I want to feel that unbelievable connection again but not at the cost of being soul raped. Is that the problem? Is my thirst for that connection the root cause of my problems? Why is that thirst there? Do I even need to connect with someone on that level? Where does all of this come from!?
I’ll keep you posted.