I was feeling so free a week ago, and writing freely.
The last few days, I’ve been coming up with ideas regularly, but somehow afraid to start writing about them. The reasons:
They are dumb – sociopaths
I’m not an expert – sociopaths
Why should I write about negative experiences (sociopaths)…..
OK, I get the message. I’ll just start writing about sociopaths…
I read a book where this girl is madly in love, gets married, has a baby, and then finds out her husband is having an affair. She is shocked and in denial. Subsequently, however, over the course of about nine months, she figures out that he was a sociopath. He was a liar and lead a completely separate life from the one she thought she had with him. His sociopathic (I made up the word) pattern: love bomb, destroy, and discard, then made sense. Upsetting, of course, but made sense.
She described the love bombing phase as “human heroin.” Her husband had sucked her in by becoming exactly who he needed to be for her to feel whole, special, and completely taken in by him.
Ever since then, I have been wondering if one of my exes was a sociopath. I, too, was addicted to him. His love bombing phase left me feeling on such an amazing high that I clung to him for a couple of years, even after the destroy and discard phases. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t shake it.
In my mind, I still thought we were meant to be, true love, and all the other romantic notions that the author of the book had felt. That’s what sociopaths do. They suck you in and make you feel like you are perfect, can do no wrong, and that you were made for them.
But then, they turn. My S. (for sociopath), became mean. All of a sudden, everything about me was wrong. He was mad and it was all my fault.
But I still hung on. Because the love bombing phase felt so good. I didn’t want to face real life. It was easier to cling to the fantasy that he had created. That never actually happened. Embarrassing to admit, but true.
The worst part, which I really hate to tell you, is that when things are hard, (like today), I still have the fantasy that S. will return, love me like he used to, think I’m perfect, take care of me, and I’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.
OK, don’t judge, I said it was a fantasy. I’m really (almost) completely over him.
And, I have to remember that he’s probably a sociopath. The evidence is below:
After the discard phase, I ran into S. I asked him if he had lied about everything.
“Not about how I felt about you,” he said without hesitation. “That was real.” He looked at me like he used to, with those amazing eyes and I got sucked right back in.
“Then how can you just turn it off ?” I asked, still hoping that ‘the look’ meant something.
“I don’t know,” he said.
But after reading about the sociopath, a light bulb went off. Sociopaths can turn off the love when they switch to the destroy phase. They are only concerned about themselves. The victim fills a need or use for them.
In the book, the S. needed a green card. For my S., I’m assuming that my adoration and worshiping, made him feel worthy and sufficient for a change. I don’t REALLY know. But when his wife found out about me (he had told me he was divorced), I was no longer convenient. He was now concerned about keeping his money instead of how I made him feel. So I was destroyed and discarded.
I don’t know if it makes sense to you, but I have needed to find an explanation. So I don’t keep blaming myself for driving him away. It was destined to happen. This was his pattern.
The thing that scares me about this is that how does one really know someone? What if I get fooled again? What if the next guy is a liar too? It seems like more than I could bear.
[Time out for a moment of sadness.]
OK, I’m back. That presumes that I am a victim without instincts and that I can’t trust myself to judge someone’s character. That I can’t ask questions and really get a feel for who someone is. That I can’t make sure that we are playing the same game.
And, that it’s safer to just stay in my little beach cottage alone, instead of risking being vulnerable again. And, I’ve gotten really good at that.
But is that what I really want? To let one sociopath (well, maybe there were others, too, at least ones who also lied), rob me of my real dream – to have a fabulous, loving partnership with a great man.
And I can safely answer “HELL NO!!” Why should I let the liars steal my dream? Why should I feel inadequate because I was trusting and loving? Why should I blame myself forever for believing them?
(I feel like that movie where the people are screaming out the windows (Network, maybe) and saying ‘they are not going to take it anymore.’)
Well, I feel better getting this out of my head. The sociopath book really got to me. I am ready to take on the world!!!!
P.S. This was one of the books I am reading to compare my own memoir to. It was tough to get through.
P.P.S. The memoir I’m reading now is about a complete drunk. It’s disturbing. If I didn’t know she went on to become a famous writer, I don’t think I could continue to read. More on that later.