Of Mice and Monsters X

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Several years after I was out of the relationship with my ex, my mother received a phone call from a detective in Boston wanting to know if I was alive.

My mom told him that I was alive.  He asked when the last time we had spoken.  She had told him it was about a week prior.  He explained that he needed confirmation from me that I was indeed alive and to contact him at the phone number he provided.  He explained that my ex had tried to developed a photograph at a local pharmacy which depicted a naked woman hanging from a tree, bound, blind-folded, gagged, and severely beaten.   He claimed that the woman in the photo was me.

My mother was of course shocked but told me to call the detective.  I did not believe it was the cops, I thought it may have been him posing as a police officer.  Instead I called the police department’s main number myself and asked for said detective.  The story checked out.   I was asked to come down to the police station to verify I was, and that I was alive.

I took the ride and met the detective.  He showed me the photo and I verified my identity.  He asked me if what happened in the photo was consensual.  I said that it was.   The detective seemed taken aback.    I did tell him at that time I wanted the photo destroyed and that was confused to me as to why my ex had been developing it in the first place since it had been years since we had split up.

The officer assured me that he would make sure he had put the fear of God in my ex about distributing a photo like this and the implications it would have for him if he didn’t destroy it.

As to why my ex had kept it all those years?  Like many Sociopaths, particularly those who are sexual sadists, most acquire trophies from their victims.  This photo of me may be a trophy of his handiwork.  He can re-live that day over and over again by looking at it.

That was the last I heard of him until two months ago when I received a Facebook friends request, which I promptly deleted.

I often read other blogs here on WordPress of both victims of Narcissism as well as a few Narcissists themselves.  I have been watching Sam Vatkin’s videos on YouTube for years. I also have been watching Richard Grannon on YouTube for near as long as well.

It would seem that I am doing a good job of staying no contact, despite the two hoovers he sent my way.   One came 1.5 years after he discarded me, the other five years later.   I am left with a morbid curiosity as to why he ever hoovered me so far out after discarding me.   I may well never know.

What I do know is that there is life after a Narcissistic Sociopath.   I eventually did go on to meet a new guy.   It’s only when one door closes they say that another can open.

Of Mice and Monsters VIII

The relationship had degraded so much and yet I did not know to extricate from it. Fear was a large factor keeping me in it, but also as hard as it is to understand for those who have never been involved with a pathological, I still had a faint hope that he would somehow return to the man I had initially met. The nice, sweet, charming, caring person who was attentive to me and hung on my every word. However, that man whom I fell in love with had fallen away. He was replaced with an empty, selfish, highly sadistic man who ignored my boundaries, was prone to give me silent treatments on a whim for reasons I was told to “figure out.” Every once in awhile that old nice version of him would return leading me to believe it was me that was the problem.  This “intermittent reinforcement” I would later find out, was done deliberately to keep me hooked in the relationship.  At times he even said to me that if I could just stop the (insert bad perceived behavior by him) or begin (insert a desired behavior which he had yet to see from me) than perhaps things could be the way they once were between us. Deep down though, I had a gut feeling he never had any intention of making good with the follow through.

Giving false hope is the devil’s work.

At some point I believe I had chalked up 12 bacterial vaginosis infections in the course of 5 years with him. Prior to knowing him I had never even had one my entire life. My gynecologist said they were sexually indicated but they could be acquired by other means such as swimming in ponds, douching, using tampons and not changing them often enough. Yet none of those applied to me. She made it clear it was not something one could get from a toilet seat. How did I get these infections? I couldn’t help thinking he must be having an affair.  My heart was sad thinking why wasn’t I ever good enough?

There were the middle of the night wake-ups where I’d find him gone out of bed. Only to find him using his phone in the bathroom sitting on the toilet seat checking his voicemail because he couldn’t sleep or so he said.  When questioned about it he would always deflect the question and blame me with an accusatory tone,” how dare you try and control what I do when I am having trouble sleeping!!!” Or that he was booking a doctors appointment. WTF? Are you kidding me.  You are booking a well visit with your primary care physician at 3:30 am?

There were lies.

That he was snow blowing for hours during the winter and couldn’t answer the phone , yet when I arrived I touched the snowblower and the entire machine was totally cold.  He never knew I did this.

Lies about going to his regular AA meeting but when I’d ask what the topic was, who chaired the meeting, or who the speaker was, he said he couldn’t remember. Anyone who is in recovery knows this is total BS unless you are drunk going to the meeting.   He was 26 years sober.

There were so many lies, so many inconsistencies, so many scary things that I had been fervently praying. Begging God to please remove him from my life. To please keep me safe and release me from this man. Day and night I prayed. Because for reasons unknown to me at the time, I could not seem to muster leaving him of my own free will.  Each time that I tried my heart would be overcome with a  sorrow so deep and painful, that I would do anything to avoid that level and degree of pain; including not leaving him.

Then my prayers were answered.

I was on his computer and had noticed a photo that hadn’t been there the week prior.  It was a photo of a naked woman lying on a table, with him wearing a green shirt on with his hand outstretched touching her genitals.

I asked him about it.  He claimed it was from years ago.   I knew it was a lie.   So I said, “All photos have time-stamps, right click on the image and show me it was years ago.”

He replied, “You don’t control me I’m not going to do that.”

I said,” this has nothing to do with control, if you can prove that this was done years ago just go ahead and right click on it and prove me that I’m wrong.”

He said, “get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Get your all your things together and get out , we are done, it’s over Lexi.

I told him, “I’ll be happy to get out if you want to be done , but just the same I want you to show me that the photo was from years ago, prove that I am wrong.”

“Just get out.”

My lip began to quiver and tears began to fall down my face as I begged him,”Please tell me the truth about that photo, I’ve been good this you for 5 years,  I loved you and I don’t deserve lies, please just tell me the truth.”!”

You want the truth?” He said.

Yes,” I whimpered.

“That photo was from when I went to a gang-bang the first year I was with you…….I am a sex addict.  I have gone on Craigslist hookups, done a fair share of swinging,  paid for prostitutes, and have a steady pool of friends with benefits that I have sex with, some that go back for many years,”  he said cooly.

I was shocked, replulsed, and terrified all at the same time.   They sat when you die your life flashes before you at rapid speed.   Well it was like that.  I kept thinking of all the sexual partners he had been with.  How many had there been?  Had I been infected with HIV and didn’t even know it?  My heart skipped a beat and my blood ran cold.

Before I could say anything he said,” you need to leave now Lexi, are you happy you got your truth?”

I carried my things to my car.   The cross on his kitchen wall for reasons unknown, slid upside down on the wall and inverted.  It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

As I walked out the door I felt mostly  numb as the tears had already dried on my face.  My thoughts still raced a mile a minute, though mostly consumed with one persistent thought, ‘how could I have been deceived by a man without a conscience.’

Into thin air….

At one time, my heart broke over this sex-addict.  He was sleeping with prostitutes, going to gang bangs, whoring around with swingers, doing NSA chicks off Craigslist, and caning, whipping, flogging, spanking my ass.

Tell me there is nowhere to go but up from THAT shit …

Oh but indeed I managed to sink lower…..

My heart is presently ripping in two, because my latest relationship just went belly up; into thin air.

While he was passed out from drinking two pints of Vodka (his usual daily intake) I looked at his cell phone while he was passed out,  I know I know wrong on so many levels.   And found he’d texted his buddy in San Fransisco asking if there are any conservative hot chicks there.

To which his buddy replied, “do you mind Asian girls?”  He’s already procuring the next piece of ass while he’s sleeping off his hangover in my bed.

But he said he loved me and wanted to marry me, and I freakin trusted him! I freakin’drank the Kool-aid.   He appears for his pre-trial divorce hearing in a few weeks, signed his parental rights away to his 3 kids, got thrown out of his parents house for acting like such a verbally abusive asshat, has no job because he resigned in a drunken stupor but by the time he reneged, they accepted, just got out of two detox’s in a row.

*****

My mind and heart are on parallel courses.

I thought if I just showed him what love could be, what kindness could be, if I cleaned up his puke, held his hand through his Librium haze, tolerated his calling me denigrating names when he is shit faced…..

gave him the best head he ever had, kissed him from head to toe, read from the Big Book, prayed with him, booked his doctors appointments for him, reminded him to keep them, maybe he would see he had something good?   WTF??

Even sadder, I still love him.   And wish that at the end up the episode it could all work out and that he would get sober and stop lying.  That we could live happily ever after in the Barbie Dream house with the convertible by the pool.   But not…..with that fucking Skipper bitch.

*****

Oh, please…like you’ve never had any train-wreck breakups….pfffftt.

Gone Dark

“…the devil is real

and he’s not a little red man with horns and a tail

he can be beautiful,

cause he’s a fallen angel

and he used to be God’s favorite…”

–  American Horror Story

I called him.

It used to be when he dumped me, he would always string me along with the illusion of a future reconciliation.   “Maybe” he’d tell me, “you never know in time, but not right now” which meant in his speak “I need to go out and fuck around“.   I’d be his plan B and it always seemed to coincide around the Holiday season.  When his either his bankroll wore thin for the paid escorts or the craigslist fuckwhore hookups ran dry and the swingers were busy with their families.   On craigslist there’s always the same cast of characters, there’s not an unending supply of new people.  It’s the same people with ten different handles looking for ass save for the out of towners.

But something has changed alright.  This breakup is different.

He told me never to call him again EVER.  That’s been said before but this time he told me to call his grandmother whom I’m very close to and tell her we broke up.  He always wanted her kept out of the know.  He protected grandma from things.  She lives on the West Coast.  She is in her 90’s.

I knew once I told her it was over.  That it would truly be over.  A finality he would never undo.  He said “do it I don’t give a shit, I’m done with you forever Lexi.”

I made the call, tactfully, carefully, but I made it.

She had already figured it out, since we normally phoned her together.  No dementia in this lovely woman.  She told me she loved me.  I cried.  She’s not doing well.  She recently had taken a bad fall and required a blood transfusion.  I’ve been calling her to check and see how she is doing.  I told her this was not my decision to leave the relationship…….and left it there.  She knows that his illness is getting worse (a chronic neurodegenerative auto-immune illness) and that he is hard to along with.   I left it there.  I told her I loved still loved him.  She advised me to try to let it go.

But it’s really hitting me that he disposed of me.

And the lack of closure……the “why” that eats at me.

I awaken in the middle of the night abruptly at odd hours:   1: 47 am……then again at  3:23 am.  Then again at 5:12 am……. for no apparent fucking reason.

He intrudes into my dreams.

He intrudes into my daytime stream of consciousness.

and yet there is nothing but a heavy silence;  there is no trace of him……anywhere to be heard or seen.

~~~~~~~~

I haven’t been our of the house.

I haven’t made a single phone call.

I’ve gone into shutdown mode…..just gone Dark.

My eyes are so bloodshot from tears that won’t stop.  My temples hurt from crying and just when I think there’s no tears, they start again.

After I go to work. I sleep.    I go through motions of life.

If it wasn’t for my job.  I don’t know that I would be here now.

****

At night, my house gets quiet again and my eyes well up knowing he’s sticking his cock in some young girl not thinking about me.  Not one teardrop forming in his heart.

I just simply don’t exist.  It’s as if I never existed.  What could be worse than annihilation.  To have never existed.  Is there any worse such fate.

Than to forsake a loved one and act as if they are a stranger or less so, as if they never existed.   Or to know you were never loved that it was chicanery, fraud. you were conned.

I don’t think he has a heart.

Maybe he really is a sociopath like my shrink said, without a conscience, playing the part of a sex-addict this whole time.

A highly sophisicated con, and I was his emotional punching bag-toy that now lacks luster.

Now he’s set sail, off to find something shiny.

***

What have I done…..

What have I done to myself

What pain have I brought upon myself……

My God my God.