Mark, actually, had all the skills, and attributes, to have been, my BEST husband; believe it or not. Of all the men, that I married, he possessed the most possibility of being, the 'ideal match', for me. However, what totally undermined that, to the point of, demolishing our relationship, until it was beyond repair, was the sad fact that, he was a very, dark, and damaged, soul-- long before, I had the misfortune of him entering my world, and taking his abusive, wrecking ball, to anything, and everything, about me, that he could creatively invent to do, to me, in an effort to decimate me, as a person-- apparently as some ego trip or compulsive psychosis.I really can't fathom what on earth would make a man treat a woman the way he treated me. Perhaps, it was just some, sick, sport, that, he enjoyed, for whatever reason. In John 8:44 Jesus said "Your father is the devil, and you do exactly what he wants. He has always been a murderer and a liar. There is nothing truthful about him. He speaks on his own and everything he says is a lie. Not only is he a liar himself, but he is also the father of all lies." (Contemporary English Version) Jesus, also, declared, that, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they, will be called, children of God." (Matthew 5:9 NIV). Mark was never a peacemaker. Not truly. In the textbook narcissistic cycle, he would merely, portray the part, long enough to lure me back in, to his orbit, where he would, then, promptly, and without, delay, unleash his next cruel scheme, against me. The saying, 'Hurt people hurt people', is all too true. Mark manifested that, in both his words and actions toward me, so much so that, the phrase itself sounds mild in comparison to what he actually put me through. He went well beyond just 'hurting' me, to very nearly destroying me.
There is no good time to write this post, about the very worst chapter of my life. I have to go back there, in my mind and emotions, to these places in my past, and, in essence, relive them, in order to be able to write about them here. I have lived through some really heartbreaking times, so it really says alot when I refer to my last marriage, to a man that, I thought, could well have been the best of them all, as the worst time in my entire life. He had every attribute to have actually been a good husband, yet he was so continually destructive that he undermined any, and all, chances of that happening. Until I experienced this turbulent relationship with him, I never knew how draining, damaging, and destructive, a human being could be. Mark had lured me in with a carefully constructed, fake, facade but the reality of that relationship was, a real, living, nightmare, for me. There, were signs, soon after the start of my relationship with him that I had not given as much weight to as I should have. Red Flags, about him-- frantically, waving, in my face, for me to heed. Warning me, of the danger ahead, if I proceeded with this relationship. But, love is blind. I had actually really loved him, until his abuse eroded that more and more, eventually, leaving nothing, in me, toward him, except for, an, emotionless, emptiness. Many people think that hate is the opposite of love but that is actually not the case. Indifference is, and I got to the point where I was completely numb, toward my husband, Mark. He'd drained me; bone dry. I felt nothing at all for this person. This post is my attempt to explain the swirl of emotions, that he did elicit in me, up until the day that I realized there was no feeling left in me, toward him.
My post, https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/03/two-memories-i-have-from-my-marriage.html, includes, a description of Mark and this marriage. The first account of the two I write about in that post, is about my third husband, Tom. But, the second part of the post is about Mark and what he put me through. The story about Tom, in that post, is a funny one. The one about Mark, is not at all funny. There was nothing funny, about how I was abused, by him. It was truly tragic, and that very nearly cost me my life in various ways, more than once. I am not going to add the account of this incident from that post, to this post, but it was one of the most intense things Mark ever put me through; traumatizing me to this very day, by his making the words, "I love you!", something that terrorizes me, whenever anyone has told me that, since the day that he did that to me. So I recommend that you click on the link and read that previous post, about that day.
That relationship with this extremely narcissistic man, is something that, I do not want to go back to, at all. Ever. But, this blog is the story of my life, for better, or for worse, and so it certainly must contain this chapter, as awful as it is. Even so, having to write about these things is, extremely, stressful for me. The main thing that makes this so hard, for me to do, is having to relive it, by remembering, and recalling, these things, to be able to articulate them in this post. They were, hard enough, to deal with, and get through, when I was, living, through them, exactly, half-a-lifetime ago, for me, now. I have been single ever since I escaped from the hell of that relationship and there's nothing in me that has any desire whatsoever to ever try marriage with anyone again. Especially, because, after going from bad to worse, when I married, the men that I did, this last one, was hell, on earth, for me. No man, could tempt me, to try, this crap, again! Marriage, in general, was a huge disappointment for me, but this man was the textbook tale of what happens when you marry an abusive narcissist. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 11:14 that, Satan himself can appear as an angel of light, and apparently his mortal 'children' are also able, to do that, just as, convincingly. I cannot cover, every, single, thing, about Mark, and our marriage, here. There is, too much; it is, too stressful; and I want to get this done, and over with, as it truly traumatizes me, to have to relive, those dark days, at all, in any way. So, with all I'm dealing with, to do this post, it is likely, not going to be laid out here in a, clear, chronological, order, and it might even be, a messy read, because of that. By the time I am finished, with this post, though, you should be able to get a good grasp of what this relationship was like.
The idiomatic expression 'The devil is in the details' refers to something that may seem small, or insignificant, about a situation, but that can derail it, even though it had seemed at the outset, or on the surface, that its could be successful. What may appear as a small Red Flag in a relationship, for example, may end up being stuck atop an enormous and sharp-edged iceberg, that is capable of sinking your ship, so to speak, and taking you down with it. Something that we, often, simply shrug off, as a minor issue, for whatever our reason or motivation, can become a major problem in our lives. In some cases that tiny thing can actually cost us our lives, as it very nearly did, with me, several different ways, when I married Mark. That marriage would be the very last time that I would ever attempt to find what is optimistically called 'marital bliss' on this earth. That, romanticized notion, was almost the death of me. Literally. More than once. In more ways than one. I have put off writing this particular blog post for as long as I felt I could avoid it. This is not a chapter that I ever want to exist in again, in any way. As I sit here about to immerse myself in the shadows, of those dark days gone by, I feel myself getting tears in my eyes just typing this. It was over 3 decades ago. I'm still traumatized.
I was in my early thirties and was working as a dancer at the Backdoor Lounge in Omaha, Nebraska. I had become embittered toward men, already, at this point. I still wanted to believe in the 'Happily Ever After' that Disney had sold me on, as a little girl growing up, but the substance, of that dream, was, faded, and frayed, at this point. I felt like, it would take a miracle, for me, to ever find that with a man. The trouble was, I still believed in miracles. I just couldn't believe that I deserved any less than love in this life, if only by birthright as a human being, created by a God who is love. I, apparently stupidly, believed that love must be the motivation in every human heart, so whomever crossed my path, offering me that, must be, sincere, about it. The Devil really is in the details, when that is not the case then, since our Creator is love personified, and created us and called us to be creatures of love. The two greatest commandments, God gave us, for living our lives on the earth, are to love Him, and others. Satan made sure to poison that well, for all of Mankind, back in the Garden of Eden, making it, more, of a miracle, if people are actually treating each other as they would want to be treated and in a loving way. Everything that I had seen, in my life, up until that point, did not reinforce any of my lingering beliefs that, surely, at some point, I would, finally, get my turn to be loved. Yet, somewhere deep down, in my subconscious, I still clung to that belief, like a desperate, drowning, person, hangs onto the last thing keeping them alive, in a tragic situation. That belief protected me from alot of alternatives that would have also been damaging, or possibly deadly, for me, if I gave in to the despair, I felt, and it drove me to not give up, on that heart's desire, that I was still longing for. It's really sad, though, that when I trusted, that it was, finally, my turn, to be loved, when Mark came along and convinced me to let down my protective walls, and let him into my life, that, he, became the most life-threatening thing, for me.
At least not until Mark came along, and I gave it to him. As it turned out, I never should have done that then either. He was not looking for someone to love, even though he acted like it at first and had the outward appearance of the poster boy for 'an All-American guy' from the heartland of Ohio. It is truly scary, the lengths that someone, like Mark, will go to, to convince you of their honorable intentions, when they already know, they are doing all they can, to get you to let them in to your protected, private, world, with every evil intention to mess you up for life; if not kill you! Trust, is nearly impossible, for me now. With anyone. It is SO HARD!
I still had alot to learn about who and what a narcissist is, at that point. I did not even know that was the term, when Mark entered my life; until many years later. He turned out to be the most insidious narcissist that I have ever encountered in my life! If I had only known, what, that was, and what, that meant, I would have run for my life, and, definitely, would have stuck to my original conviction, not to go out with him at all; which was perhaps really just an urgent warning from the Holy Spirit within me rather than being my own thoughts about the matter when he asked me out. But, Mark persisted, in asking me out, until, he wore me down. To be honest, I considered that to be 'a mercy date'***. I learned this lesson the hard way: Sometimes we humans give in to someone else's pressure on us to do something for them, or with them, that truly isn't in our heart to do. We don't do anyone, involved, any favors when we do that, if it was against our instincts, and interests in the matter; and, in fact, we will often, end up paying, some kind of a price, for not being true to ourselves. Now, when people get mad at me, or show frustration with me, because I am not doing, what THEY want me to do, but I set my own BOUNDARIES for my, private, life that they don't like or want to respect, I let them deal with that, on their own, because it's their problem, not mine. I'm just being true to who I am, and what I need. I am not on this planet to do what other people want me to do if it's not also something that I feel comfortable with or interested in. I learned my lesson with this type of thing-- the hard way. More than once, too, unfortunately. Just because some man, or some neighbor, has an agenda for me that I have absolutely no desire to participate in or involve myself in, does not place a requirement on me to be dragged into whatever that is. This very thing, led to me being, badly, abused, and, nearly, killed, when, I gave in to Mark despite my misgivings, because he pressured me. Now I won't set aside my thoughts and feelings about things. I realized that I need to 'live true', to myself! That is not something that I'm willing to set aside, now. There are consequences. Maybe not, as serious, as what they were, with Mark, but I have learned there is always some price to be paid, by me, if I give in to people's pressure, to do what they want me to do, but it's not something I'm comfortable with, or happy about.
It wasn't love at first sight, with Mark, at all. I can't even really recall when I first saw him sitting in the club where I worked as a dancer. Nothing about him, stood out, to me. He was just a somewhat homely, regular-seeming guy. Part of our job as dancers was to mingle. We had to sit and talk, with the customers, in between our turns up on stage. Somewhere, along the way, with that, I met, and sat with, Mark. I am thinking, to myself, as I type this, that, I hate, even saying, his name, based on my, bad, experience, of, barely, surviving him. Mark, of the Beast, as in, biblical, evil. He really didn't register in my consciousness as anything more than, a nice-enough-seeming fellow, to sit with, in the nightclub, to make my, required, drink-selling quota for the shift, as we sat having a congenial conversation, when I wasn't up on stage performing. I wasn't drinking alcohol in those days, either. I didn't drink, any booze, for most of my time working as a dancer, because, I was concerned, about the health and appearance impacts, of it, after seeing that age, and seem to destroy, other girls in this business, who did choose to drink it night after night, at work. So, I can't blame my failing to see, who this man really was, underneath, his act, on being in, some, alcohol-induced, haze, of unawareness. I was alert and aware. I just made the tragic mistakes of, second-guessing my gut, agreeing to go out on 'a mercy date' which is not the right motivation to date any guy, and trusting a man that, said, all the right things, but, something, was, 'off'.
I couldn't put my finger on what it was, about him, that seemed, 'not quite right', but it tied in to my observation, of him, as we sat and talked together in the club, that he seemed very 'rigid' in his words, and movements; like everything he was showing himself to be, to me, was, very, tightly controlled, by him. At the time, I just thought, he was very insecure, wanting desperately to be liked, and possibly shy. I had no idea, that he was actually sitting on a powder keg of, rage, and evil, that he would expose to me and unleash on me, once he gained my trust and my love. Looking back, though, everything he said and did was highly controlled, and calculated, by him, for the desired effect he was going for, as he manipulated me.
He was just exceptionally skilled-- and practiced-- at carefully controlling what he wanted me to see, about him-- which had little to do with who and what he really was, as it would turn out. Nothing, we talked about, stood out to me, as anything other than ordinary chitchat. Basic, benign, pleasantries. What finally took hold of my mind, about him, was his, tenacious, persistence, in asking me to go out, with him. He really held no appeal, to me, in that way, so I sidestepped this issue, with him, preferring to keep him categorized as only a club customer, who was at least enjoyable enough company, in the club, to endure, sitting with, to make my drink quota for the shift. I had completely given up on love, at that point, after so much disappointment from the men that I had previously allowed into my life, and body.
Although, I continued to be pleasant, toward him, since he had seemed like a nice enough guy, at the outset, I did start to, avoid, sitting with him, if I could possibly help it, in the course of doing my job, precisely because he was annoying me with constantly asking me out. Dancers, have no shortage of men, trying to date us. It wears thin, when you hear it from almost every guy, you sit with, or talk to, night, after night after night; for years. It's no longer a compliment. It's a hassle to have to find the best way to say no, while still staying in the good graces of these horny and lonely drink buyers, who fuel the club economy and provide my paycheck and tips, as well. You don't want to go out with (most, if not all) of them, but you have to, also, try, to let them down gently, and not hurt their feelings, either; guy, after guy, after guy. It's actually alot of pressure, on the girls who dance in these clubs, which we had to do our best to, smile, through, while simultaneously sidestepping it. After all, this wasn't a, dating, business, per se, but an entertainment business!
Guys are always gonna try, though. It is the nature of the beast. In all fairness, to them, women wearing thong-bottom bikini costumes, sitting inches away at most, interacting one-on-one with them, is likely to provoke that type of try by the male sex. It was no different with Mark. He was just, pushier, than most, to the point of truly annoying me, about it, by this time. I was on the very verge of staying away from him, altogether, because of this, when he caught me on a day when I was at least feeling more humane toward his hassling me, because, frankly, at this point, he just seemed, pathetic, to me, and I found myself doing something that women should never do, no matter what, because, I firmly believe, it never ends well, for us. I finally caved to his begging, and agreed to go out with him, on what women know as 'a mercy date'. That charitable decision on my part would nearly cost me my life. Mark had simply said, to me, that day, that his birthday was approaching, and persistently pleaded with me to at least go out with him once, for this special day of his. Reluctantly I said that I would, because he said otherwise he would be all alone for that celebration. He indicated that, he didn't have anyone that cared.
WOMEN OF THE WORLD: NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU, NEVER, EVER, EVER, GO OUT ON 'A MERCY DATE' WITH A MAN. Trust your gut, and stand your ground!
Even though I had finally agreed to go out with him this once for his birthday and that was only because, I felt sorry for him, I felt like, I was having a panic attack, as I got ready for our date, that day. Not long before he was supposed to pick me up at my apartment building, I realized that this reason, to agree to that, was not good enough, and that I wanted to cancel the date altogether. Mark had given me his phone number, so I tried to phone him, to call it off, but, there was no answer. This was before there were any cell phones so he only had a landline phone in his house. Thinking about it, later, I wondered, if it was, yet another case, of the Holy Spirit, in me, who knows all things, trying, to warn me, but due to His, still, small, voice, that is easy to debate with, or even push aside, and ignore, I didn't go with it, under the pressure Mark put on me. Especially, because, that still, small, voice, was in contrast to the mentally noisy tumult in my head as I felt myself beginning to suffocate, in the, increasing, anxiety that I had, about this impending situation.
I didn't want to be 'the bad guy' to this, self-described, lonely man, but more than that, I REALLY did not want to go out with him on this date; birthday, or not. I felt that he would survive the disappointment of this better than I would survive going out with him when I so deeply didn't want to; so when he finally arrived I told him that I had changed my mind, and wasn't going to go. Something about it was just making me feel really uncomfortable, as I said. My subconscious was trying to tell me that since he had badgered me so badly for so long, to wear me down enough to get me to agree to this (mercy) date, that he would, most likely, continue to do that to me, if I went out with him (just this once, which was our agreement, when I told him that I would do this, but only because it was his birthday). I didn't want to keep going through this, with him. He had already basically been a pest, to me. He was dressed in slacks, shirt, and a tie, when I sat him down in the lobby of my apartment building, looked him in the eye, and told him, that I changed my mind. I just did not want to go out with him. I felt, extremely uneasy, about it, for some reason, and I was trying to, go with my gut, on this. Not, surprisingly, though, for him, he responded by pleading with me to just go out with him this one time, and he would leave it, at that, because, he reminded me, it was, his birthday, after all. Everything in me was screaming "DON'T GO!", but, just to 'be nice', I finally did it.
We went to the Old Market, Omaha's, historic, district that both locals and tourists love, to eat lunch at a restaurant. On the one hand, it may seem hard to believe a guy could con me as sweetly and successfully as he did, when, by this time, I had such an extensive education in the male sex, because of working in the nightclubs for so many years, at this point. However, I still had not been, 'officially' educated, on what a "narcissist" was. Or, how dangerous, they are, to their, chosen, victims. I was not really familiar with the term or what the evil attributes of such a person are. Nowadays there's alot of information about these people all over social media sites, and other places online, as well as, the actual term being used frequently in describing such people and their behavior toward others. I knew none of this then though. I basically divided guys, in my mind, between, 'nice guys', and 'assholes'.
It would be, years, later, that a woman taught me this term in relation to my own mother's behavior, toward me, as her scapegoat, in a conversation between us as strangers that had just met when the woman kindly offered me a ride home when she spotted me standing at a bus stop with all my grocery bags. I went home and started researching that word online, that day, and was amazed to see that it was in fact describing my own mother! There was, a NAME, for how she treated me! It was not because I had done anything to deserve to be treated that way, by her. It was something about her! She chose me as her scapegoat, but I wasn't to blame.
I didn't have that information when Mark was in my life, though. I had no idea, at all, what I was dealing with, with him. I just saw that, he was, way off balance, in his behaviors. Almost from the start. Even so, there is, another thing, that women do, toward men-- a couple, of things, actually-- that we should NEVER do: Go into the relationship with a man thinking that, we can change him, and/or get involved with a man thinking that we can save him-- including from himself, or even Satan.
It's very hard to describe a narcissist's behaviors to the uninitiated who have been blessed to never be the chosen supply**** to feed their insatiable need to abuse, control, diminish, and drive to despair, their victim. The narcissist also is careful to do these things to their victim in private, so there are no witnesses. The only time they feel comfortable, treating the victim in these ways they do, to diminish them, in close proximity to, other, people is when the narcissist feels quite confident that their 'flying monkeys'***** have been thoroughly tainted, by their twisting things around, to bear, little, if any, resemblance to the truth, so that these indoctrinated bystanders, and sometimes deliberate, or even unwitting, accomplices are sure to see the situation only from the narcissist's contrived point of view, which is meant to discredit, isolate, and alienate, their scapegoated****** victim who is scorned, and not believed, or comforted, or assisted, then. The narcissist has been planting seeds of misinformation in the minds of these people to cultivate them to be flying monkeys for their agenda against the victim. It is character assassination of them, by the narcissist. The narcissist tells a slanted story, with some grain of truth in it, that, once believed, alters the approach of others, toward the scapegoated victim.
I knew that I was up against that very thing, when my son, who had always been able to talk about anything and everything over the years, as he was being raised by his father and stepmother, so that he could have a two-parent home, suddenly was no longer straight with me, and just exited our interactive relationship, with a promise to be in touch again, very soon, which he, hurtfully, never kept. I let it go for decades, because I didn't want to force the relationship, with me, on him, if he had stopped wanting one with me, even though, knowing my family of origin, and their dysfunctional ways, I, strongly, suspected, he had been, alienated, from me, by being made into a flying monkey, by, and for, them, during, his extended visits, to my parents' home. As the family scapegoat, my entire life, I was acutely aware of that target, on my back. It was only, one, simple, step, from there, for them to fill my son's head, and heart, with their twisted truths, that would most likely turn him against me, too, since I was not there, to have any hope of defending myself, against these tactics. All I could do was to just hope, and pray, that my bond with my son would hold, as it had seemed to for much of his upbringing, in spite of the physical distance between us as he grew up in other places all around the country and the world, as the son of an Air Force officer. Around 3 years ago, now, when I finally risked contacting my son because he had not done so with me for decades, after telling me, he would email me, again, 'in a couple of weeks', about 20 years before that, it didn't take him long (after initially being 'painfully polite' instead of open, and comfortable, talking with me, like he had always been, before) to show some very real hostility toward me, as he lit into me, that I had made my mother cry; although, I felt I had no other choice, but to, go No Contact, with her, as has to happen, with most narcissists, for their, targeted, victim to survive the pain, of it. It was clear from how my son treated me that he would have never considered the thought that it hurt ME to not have a mother that was 'safe' for me to involve myself with, and that I didn't go No Contact with her to be mean or make her cry but so that she, as the narcissist scapegoating me, all my life, wouldn't be able to totally destroy me, which she had very nearly done, including that she had driven me to the very brink of suicide, at one point. I had to take that as a, very serious, warning sign, to stay away, from her having any access to me, since she had that effect on me, of driving me to despair. Rather than confess, to my son, any of the horrendous things she had put me through to try to manipulate me into madness my mother made sure that it looked, to my child, like I was simply being cold and callous by shutting her out of my life; showing him her tears. I have no doubt the tears he saw her cry were real, but the tears of narcissists are as manipulative as anything else they do in regard to their victim, and I had seen that from my mom more than once, firsthand. She had every opportunity to preserve my relationship with my son, by being straight with him, about the situation, and she chose not to do that knowing that she was teaching my son to think that I was the villain here. Between how the narcissist treats the scapegoat when there are no witnesses and how successful they are at getting people to believe their version, of things, when there is, clearly, evidence, to the contrary, if others, want to look closer, and think through it all, the victim, of a narcissist, is rendered unable to defend themselves. Although this post is about my fourth and final husband, who was a narcissist, the example of my mother is instructive in trying to explain to others what this is like, for the victim of the narcissist. It is very destructive, but also, difficult to describe.
Another way, that my narcissistic mother's treatment of me affected my life, even when she was no longer directly allowed in my life, was that, being the target of a narcissist becomes familiar, to the victim, so this sick style of interacting seems to be 'normal' to the person. 'Normal', whatever, that is, to someone, is what we are drawn to, even, if only, subconsciously, in a way that, we are not fully aware of. It is also much more likely, because of this, that the child, growing up as the victim, of their narcissistic parent(s), will end up marrying a narcissistic person. Although I married 4 men, in 5 marriages, after being so messed up, by my childhood, that I had no idea whatsoever how to have a healthy marital relationship, the only one of these men who was a narcissist was my, last, husband, Mark. The following link is to a thread from Quora, that describes some of what I am talking about here. It is a messy thread to try to read and everyone's experience with narcissistic abuse is not identical, but I easily recognize alot of what I went through in my life in the things these others are describing, as, their, experience, as victims, of narcissists:
https://www.quora.com/Do-people-who-were-raised-by-a-narcissist-then-grow-up-to-marry-a-narcissists
ALL of the crap, that he did, to me, was because, I FELT SORRY FOR HIM; enough to give in, against my better judgment, and do something generous, and kind, for this, lonely-seeming, man. People think, I am being, cold, and cruel, now, when, I act extremely resistant, to men, trying to get too close, to me, now. I am not ever going to involve myself with any man, ever again, that I don't want to for my own reasons. I don't, 'owe', anymore, men, doing that, to myself; or, my life. The Bible says, "Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces."(Matthew 7:6, NIV) Mark's, discrediting me, got him, a plea bargain settlement, in that courtroom, for his abusing me. Narcissists, do all they can, to make sure that they seem 'normal', and non-abusive, out in the public eye, while trying, to make, their victim, seem like, the 'crazy' one. My mother did that, to me, and Mark did it to me. Mark knew that, my mother, was, also, someone who scapegoated me, like he did. He knew, where my family lived, because of, going back for the funeral, of my grandmother. I had gone, to that, in the midst of this nightmare of abuse from him, because she had been a good, godly, woman, and I was determined to honor her; even, if it meant, bringing, all, of my dysfunctional family, together, and what that, would be like, for me, as the, designated, scapegoat. I loved her, enough, to be willing, to put myself in that, extremely, uncomfortable, and unhappy, position. Because of that, because of my 'choosing love', yet again, Mark showed up, at my parents' house, several years, after, our divorce, when, we have (thankfully!), not seen, or spoken to, one another, again, since that day, in the courthouse; to bring copies of my medical records he had made, to give to my mother, to arm her with more, potential, ammunition, about me. She waited for years more, before telling me, about that. I am sitting here shaking my head, at the lengths, narcissists, go to to continue to try to torment and trouble their victim even after we've escaped.
Narcissists are predators, studying their prey, to learn, just what buttons to push, to get whatever reaction they want, from their victim, whether that is a good or a bad one, depending on their objective at the time-- which is, always changing, as they attempt to, take control, of their victim, and make them more vulnerable, by causing this person to feel continually off balance, both, mentally and emotionally, and uncertain of what is going on, as much as possible. It is hell, to feel this way! I can tell you that from firsthand experience; with my mother, my whole life, and, later, with Mark, as well. It kind of, 'blows your mind', trying, to live this way, as a rational human being. It feels like trying to stand sure and steady in shifting sand.
When Mark and I went to the restaurant on his birthday, I was not at all prepared for him to begin telling me everything that my badly broken heart had apparently been starving to hear. He honed right in on that in a way that no one ever had. If other men had known about those longings in my heart, they had never bothered to say anything, about them. Mark went straight toward them, like a heat-seeking missile on a mission, which was programmed to complete its task, without fail. As we sat and talked, he completely came across as an All-American boy, from Ohio; a sandy-haired, ruddy-complected, Air Force NCO. A 'nice guy'. At one point, he'd taken my hand, in his, across the table, and looking earnestly into my eyes, Mark told me that, I deserved to be cherished, by a man, and that, if I allowed him the opportunity, to do that, as he wanted to do, he would do everything, in his power, to make up for, all the times, that any men, had broken my heart, by not treating me well. I know now, that was the line to beat all lines, to say to a woman in this world, because a man doesn't have to know anything about a woman except that she IS a WOMAN to figure out that, if she's older than twelve, she's had her heart broken. He seemed, so sincere, though. It would prove to be, the worst, 'bait and switch' of my life, but, at the time, my woundedness, caused me to take that bait, hook, line, and sinker. He would end up not curing my heartbreak, but immensely compounding it, instead. The irony is that, by my going on this 'mercy date', with him, I had just let the most unmercifully cold and cruel human being that I would
ever have the misfortune to know, into my life. What makes men act so abusively toward women who simply wanted to love them, and make a good life with them?
He ruined me toward love. As I begin to write about this because I felt that I can't put off dealing with this post, anymore, I feel myself taking two steps forward and one step back, tentatively talking around the edges, of it. There is nothing, in me, that wants to return to that awful abyss, which was my relationship with this man. I dread, re-entering, that darkness, even, if only, in my memory. If you have read my previous posts, you will know that I consider rain to be tears, from Heaven, as God, Who is Love, and Truth, cries with me in my grief and pain. Isaiah 53:3 says, "He was despised and rejected by men A Man of sorrows and pain and acquainted with grief." [Amplified Bible] When I have struggled with writing my most difficult posts, here in my blog, without fail there has been rain that accompanies me, into these, dark, places, of the soul. When I wrote about my mother, and the one man that I will love forever, and, now, as I sit here, typing these words, about the man that was nearly the death of me, there are only two sounds: the keyboard clicking as I find my words, and the heavy downpour of rain, falling outside, as I sit in this dark room, at the midnight hour, illuminated only by the PC screen, in front of me. As I typed, about my trepidation, the rain, began to increase, significantly. Surely, God knows, this is something that I dread doing. Reliving, the nightmare, of Mark.
His saying that, he wanted to treat me so well, that he would, more than make up for, any heartbreaking thing, that all other men had ever done to me, sounded too good to be true. In hindsight that was likely my first clue to his insincerity, though at the time it sounded to me like the most sincere thing any man had ever said to me. So, we began to date. He took me to watch him play volleyball with friends of his, who all seemed to vanish once he fully integrated me into his life. Handed the camera, I took the video, of their matches, and Mark told me the guys really liked the way that, I evenly followed the ball, back and forth, across the net. He did not seem to be involved in, anything, with, any, friends, socially, after we got married. He certainly could have. I even suggested he put in a sand volleyball court, in the large backyard of his house, that he owned, but he didn't want to do that, and he never had anyone over. He consciously kept every other part of his life completely separate from our life together by the time I had moved out of my apartment and into his house with him just before we got married. During that period of time, he even told me, to be sure to hide, when a co-worker brought him home from work, at the Air Force base, one day, saying that, he had, high level security clearances, and my living there could be some kind of a, violation, in regard to that. I was not sure, if he was, hiding me, from everyone else, in his life, or hiding everyone else, from me, but it made me feel uncomfortable. He didn't allow me to actually get to know anyone that he associated with, at all. I went from dancer to suburban wife. I think, now, that he kept me separate, from everything else in his life, because if these other people got to know me, they would know me, as I am, not as, how he made me seem, to others, once he started discrediting me to exonerate himself. I think that, he didn't want people, expecting to see me, and socialize, with us, as a couple, because, he knew, that I would have bruises, stitches, and casts, at times, which other people would, quite naturally, be concerned and curious about seeing.
The day that, Mark took me to see his house, in Bellevue, which is the part of the greater Omaha metro area closest to Offutt Air Force Base, where he worked in a photography unit, I walked through the rooms, of this typical, middle-class, split-level home, noting, silently, to myself, that any single male's residence, that does not have a woman's touch, looks like a true bachelor pad of half-furnished rooms and no homey touches, I stood looking at personal photographs he had displayed along the wall of the hallway, on the main floor. There were pictures of himself, in Hawaii, where, he had been stationed, previously. There was, a woman, in one of the photos, and I asked him who she was. I knew, she had to be someone of real significance, in his life, because of, her image, being displayed, on the wall, of his home. He told me that he had been married once before, when he was in Hawaii, and that she had been his wife. Of course, in the same way it would have caused him to question if I were over my previous spouse, if the situation were reversed, I was concerned whether he was rebounding, in his involvement with me, or if he were really over her. He said that, they were divorced, and he told me a, strange, story about her, that didn't add up, to me, at the time, and that made it sound as if, she, were some kind of, out-of-control, crazy, person, doing irrational things. It left me not knowing what to think, but since, that was, all, behind him, I let it go.
I knew that something just didn't seem right with what he described to me, about her, though. There were no cell phones in those days. Only landlines. He said that he had started unplugging their telephone from their home on base, whenever he left for work, and that he took the phone out of the house, with him, locking it up, in the trunk, of his car, because, long distance, calls, were so expensive, and she, kept calling, her family, back on the mainland, all the time, running up, the phone bill. The whole thing sounded very odd, and I wondered why, she felt the need, to call home, to her relatives, from this island paradise, so frequently, that it caused huge phone bills. I also wondered why Mark would leave his wife without any way to make any calls from their home, should an emergency arise there, and she had need of assistance, such as the police, or fire department, or even, an ambulance.
Large phone bill or not, it just didn't seem right, to me, for him to leave her home alone, isolated, with no way to reach anyone, in the outside world, including, him. This story of his, would never make any sense to me, until later, in hindsight, as I began to learn what he was now telling people about me and they were believing. It was truly scary, what lengths Mark went to, to discredit, the two wives, of his. I realized, when he began to abuse me, that the first wife must have been trying to reach her family to arrange a way out, of what had to have, also, been an abusive situation, at Mark's hands. She was probably, pleading for help, and he was afraid that she was telling people what he was doing to her. So, he took away the phone. I wish, that I could have met her. My heart went out to her, for, the hell, she must have gone through, with Mark; just as I did, when he conned me into believing he was a nice guy and would be a good husband, when he was a son of the devil, for sure. I have no doubt, that our stories, of marriage to Mark, would have matched.
It is very hard to explain to someone who has never experienced domestic abuse, themselves, why you stayed past the very first Red Flag, that you saw, about this person. The armchair quarterback types will say to your face in an indignant tone that, they, would have been out the door at the first sign of trouble. Ask any staff at domestic abuse shelters, any woman or child that has gone through it, pastors who counsel traumatized souls after they've survived it, if they think it is an easy thing for the victims to extricate themselves from. If emotions were not involved, if the heart had not loved the perpetrator, although, the abuse they inflict, is hell, it would, perhaps, be a much simpler matter. The human heart, even when badly bruised and beaten by the intimate relationships it enters into with others, seems to have an autopilot of irrepressible hope. It is also, soul-crushing, to realize that, someone's proclaimed love for us might have been more of a manipulation than a truth, which takes awhile, to come to terms with, if our own heart was true to our words of caring and commitment, toward this person, with whom we have formed a bond. Falling out of love, seems to be, alot harder, than falling into it, in the first place, when everything was new and had seemed so promising, for the most part.
Love is even, scientifically, described, as acting like a drug, upon our brain, in the same way that many addictive drugs do, due to dopamine, which is known as the "feel good" chemical. It affects our brain alot like they say that, cocaine, affects a person. Like a moth to a flame, it makes, being clear-eyed, and unaffected, fairly impossible for the person who is in love, because even when wisdom may scream at them to, GET OUT, AND FAST!, the brain itself is clouded in its thinking, due to being 'under the influence', of these, romantic, feelings, for the other person. The narcissist sold their chosen victim alot of lies, but they were extremely convincing and skilled at disciplining themselves, to show their target only what they wanted them to see, to gain control of them via their heart. It is bullcrap for people to let them off the hook, later on, when, 'the shit hits the fan'-- as it always will, with a narcissist-- by saying that, they just need to go to, an anger management, class, and learn, not to explode, at their victim. There is no one on earth, more capable of tightly controlling their actions, and words, than these narcissists. Their erratic behavior and explosive temper are, deliberately, designed to terrorize, the object of their 'affection', in order to, control them. The narcissist keeps this, completely dismayed person, off balance, at all times, in the relationship, so that, they can't, think clearly, or reason well. It is always, about intimidation, and control of them.
Mark made sure that what I saw him as, in the beginning of our relationship, was an innocuous man that wanted to do his best, to love me well. It was, extremely, enticing, to a woman, who had encountered an endless line of men, who thought that they'd done their part for the relationship, simply by taking a shower, before their dates with me. He managed to make me smile also, which is very appealing to a woman; although, I had no way of knowing, the torrent of tears that I would cry, over his mistreatment of me, not long after he had captured my heart, which turned into exasperated, bewildered sobs as I sank into despair, while holding the phone to my ear, seeking help, to cope with it, in yet another call to the domestic abuse hotline. Hindsight, is so clear, but, of so little value, because it isn't helpful, up front, in warning us away, from the danger, we walk into. Red flags are far too easy to ignore after our eyes have been blinded by starlight. I felt bewildered and confused, when Mark's behaviors, began to change, even before, we had married, but after, I'd begun, the process of vacating my apartment in Omaha and moving myself, and all, I owned, into his house in Bellevue. In full disclosure, I also, have to admit that I did feel genuine alarm, at some of his earliest narcissistic displays, but, as I have said, I did not know, that, is what I was dealing with, with him (or, even, with my own mother, at that point in my life); and explaining it away, as he did, or rationalizing it, as I did, on his behalf, kept me 'in the game', when I could have simply moved back out and refused to marry him. There were at least a few incidents, that gave me, real, pause, which, I wish, I had been wiser about, when they happened. He was no doubt testing me then with those erratic behaviors, to see if I would acquiesce to his abuse, which, he knew, was coming my way, soon.
I had initially let my guard down, after he had, basically, vowed, to love me well, at the outset of our relationship, and all my behaviors, toward him, showed him, that I was open to him and his presence in my life. Feeling he had 'reeled me in' at that point, Mark started showing the tiniest tip of his toxic narcissism. Driving us to a restaurant one night, he suddenly said something shockingly offensive to me, and I was really upset, because he had never done that before, and it came out of nowhere; not in line with the conversation that we had been having or for any rational reason that would have caused him to do that to me. I turned away from him, and sat as close to the passenger side door, of his car, as I could, as I kept my face turned toward that window. I was extremely angered by his verbal abuse of me, out of nowhere, this, first, time, and I wasn't having it! Clearly, he figured out that I was planning to get out of this car at the first opportunity, and more than likely end our relationship at that point. So, we weren't speaking as I refused to even talk to him after he treated me that way. He wasn't apologizing, or saying anything, either. He kept, driving around, for the next couple of hours, though, always making sure that he did so in such a way that I wouldn't be able to exit his car. I began to feel like I was being held hostage by him and I did not like that one bit. Mark had always been loving to me, prior to this, though. So, I ended up, rationalizing, that he must really care about me, to keep us in the car, like this, driving around so long, just to keep me from getting out of the car and leaving him after he made that horrible comment to me. Which, I thought at the time, must have just been some aberrant misjudgment, or mistake, on his part; which would, surely, not be happening, again, now that, he knew, for sure, how angry, and upset, that had made me. Enough that I was on the verge of leaving him over it; which he knew. However, if I had not already given my heart to this man I would have been able to see this for what it really was: He'd actually held me hostage in that car, that night, against my will, by making sure he stayed on roads where he wouldn't have to stop the car for any reason, to allow me to get out, then. While it seemed repentant of him because, at the time, I assumed he was showing me how sorry he was about what he had said and was trying to get me to, calm down, so, it had even, seemed, somewhat, 'romantic', to me, at the time, this type of behavior was something that he would carry out toward to me again, but in even worse ways. This was just the barest beginning, of what Mark was capable of. He would soon start to show a disturbing pattern of keeping me, under his control, in various ways, and holding me, hostage, against, my will, in, different ways, by, preventing me, from being able to leave him, when, I tried to.
"Eventually, as a narcissist's true agenda begins to surface, you might be taken off guard by their sudden shift in demeanor, out of character insensitivity, passive aggressive comment, or blatant disregard for your feelings. Because they have spent so much time love bombing you and convincing you how truly amazed they are with you, their first narcissistic comment feels more like a sting than a blow. This of course, is all part of their manipulation. Narcissists need to blindside their victims. Deliberately manipulating others . . . with telling you all the things they know you need to hear, is their way of seeping past the locked doors to your heart." - Lisa A. Romano, Breakthrough Life Coach
One evening, before we were married, I was sitting on the bed and Mark sat down beside me, there. He spoke lovingly, to me, but called me by his first wife's name! After I called that verbal slip to his attention, when he didn't, seem to, notice, that he had just done this, he denied he had done that, at first, even though, awkward things, like that, do happen, to people, at times. I was not, mad, at him, for doing that, even though, it did concern me, as to whether he was really over her, or was rebounding, in his relationship with me. Once he believed me, his reaction was to, stand up, in the bedroom doorway, by the bed, in front of me, and start hitting his head, hard, against the door jamb, over, and over, and over, as if, he were, trying, to, 'get it into his head', that he had done that. It was a shocking scene, to see! It had looked like, someone flagellating themselves. He was attacking his own head, which, housed the brain, that had sent, the, wrong, name, to his mouth. It was, a strange, and troubling, thing to see. It was, also, his, first, physical violence I had seen him do, but was done, to himself, not toward me. Mark was, literally, beating himself up! I was unable to even imagine, why, he would, do something, like that!
In retrospect, I think that it was his way of beginning to see how I would react, to his being, physically, violent before he started doing that to me. There were times he would slam my head into the walls. I remember, lying on the floor, by the front door, one time, after he had done that to me, while he had, unleashed a torrent of verbal abuse and fury on me along with the physical attack. The doorbell rang and Mark opened the front door, just wide enough to talk with the newspaper boy, who had come to collect the subscription fee. As I lay there, just a couple of feet, from this young boy, just out of sight, I heard Mark, suddenly, speaking so politely, and appreciatively, to him, for his paper route deliveries. It, amazed, me that, literally, in a split second, he could go from, an out-of-control-seeming verbal and physical attack on me, to how he spoke, now, to this newspaper boy. I didn't try to cry out for help. I didn't want to traumatize this child, by my alerting him to something as scary as the domestic abuse going on in this house. So, I laid there, wondering ...
How was Mark able to change so fast?
Another thing, that people may not realize, looking, from the outside in, is that, in between, these bizarre behaviors of the narcissist, things appear to be much more stable, and sane. A regular, rational, human being, therefore, assumes that, these incidents, are a departure, from what, would be, and, surely is, a, mostly, 'normal' human relationship. It takes awhile, for the targeted victim of the narcissist to see that, the deviations are the norm, with the abuser, and the safe, stable, moments, are the exception, also, becoming, fewer, and farther between, as the relationship progresses, in a steady downward spiral, the more the narcissist acts out, as time goes by. Especially, in the beginning, though, there are the everyday moments, of bonding, such as Mark and I had. Whether it was cooking a meal together, sex, or decorating his 3 bedroom house, by integrating all of my personal property, that I brought to it, with his belongings, we would have been seen as, any other middle-class, suburban, thirtysomething, couple. We, planted a tree, in the backyard, and seeds, for a, vegetable, garden. We put together a picnic table, and Mark enjoyed, being the grillmaster, for our summer cookouts. We went shopping, to the grocery store, and hardware store. My second husband (my son's father) was an excellent lover, so, no one, I'd known since, that I slept with, had even come close. It was a problem, for me, because, inevitably, I had that, unspoken, comparison, always in my mind. However, Mark and I had sexual chemistry together, and he was a, very, close second, to Jim's skillset, in the sack, which made me feel quite relieved, and happy. Mutually enjoyable sex is very important in a relationship. At least, for me. So, when people, hear about, the bad stuff, and say, "Why don't you just leave?", it isn't that easy. After all, both, Mark, and I, had been raised in homes where our parents' relationships were problematic, and not healthy modeling, for us, of what a marriage should be. Nobody, is going to be, perfect. Every, relationship will have its issues, problems, and ups and downs; and, when, you really do, love someone (even if, you were duped, into loving, who they pretended to be, rather than, who they actually are), you cling desperately to the hope, that, they will, come to their senses, and things will get better, and that there will still be a 'Happily Ever After'. We humans want to believe in the fairytale that 'Love conquers all'. You know, the lie, that, Disney brainwashed us, into believing, HAD TO HAPPEN, if you just KEEP HOLDING ON, and BELIEVING WITH YOUR WHOLE HEART. It's too bad, that this is a myth, rather than a self-fulfilling prophecy. Statistics, and heartbreak, tell a very different story than the 'Love conquers all' crap. Even just watching any newscast, any day, reminds us that, there, is no shortage, of people, not, loving others, well.
To this day, I absolutely believe that, I NEVER met my 'match' for the RIGHT man for me. The closest I ever came was my son's father, Jim, and we really WEREN'T right for one another (although, I was the one that couldn't see or accept that, at the time; possibly because he was such a good lay in the sack) because his goals were self-absorbed, ego-based achievements and I really had no heart for that so I wasn't ALL IN, as a SUPPORTIVE WIFE, to him, with all that stuff, that, I saw as, being so superficial. However, out of all 4 of my husbands, Mark would have been the best, and happiest, one, for me, by far, had he not had the fatal flaw, of being a, raging narcissist. He RUINED, his own, chances, at happiness, AND mine, along with his, to prove, to himself-- due to his own demons, and low self-esteem-- that he wasn't deserving, of a happy life, and that, it would, therefore, never work out, anyway, so, he may as well, trash it, himself, to prove, this lie, to be true, and get on with, the aftermath, already. Narcissists are demonically-driven people who are toxic to the core, and without redemption, relationally speaking. There is no hope,
for them. It is, really sad, but, sticking around, trying, to 'love them out of it', not only, doesn't work, it makes you the target, of their abuse, which will, often, even become, life-threatening. That, is nothing to play with. JUST GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN! Before, it's too late. As it, very nearly was, for me. You cannot SAVE them. I tried to, and it nearly cost me my life. The narcissist, is a SATANIC soul. Trust me.
Sometimes, the silliest, things, become, symbols, or signposts, which let us know that, we should have, put a person out of our life, the first time they showed us a troubling behavior, that just didn't seem like something that, a healthy, individual would do. We went back to my apartment one evening after I had begun to move into Mark's house, to get more of my things. This was, before, we were married. I shared a silly-but-sweet thing, about me, with him. I had a row of stuffed animals on my guest bed, although I was in my early 30s at the time, and I told Mark that various people had given me those, over the years, and I had kept them, for, that reason. I told him how I had even given them names since I did not have a pet at the time, due to working, most, of the time, 6 nights a week, as a dancer. We had left the front door to my apartment ajar, when we entered, so we could haul some more of my belongings out. When Mark didn't say anything, after I had shared the story behind these sweet-looking little tokens of others' affection, sitting there, on the bed, I turned, to look at him, and he was just . . . GONE. NO words. Not even, an explanation; or, a good-bye! NOTHING. Mark had simply, DISAPPEARED INTO THIN AIR. I was puzzled, and, completely, confused, by whatever, was GOING ON, with him. Had I known what a "narcissist" was, I would have closed, and LOCKED, my apartment, door, BEHIND him, and sent, movers, over to his house, to pick up the part of my belongings we had already taken to his place. I only caught this, in looking back on it, as I tried to put the puzzle pieces together, to see, what it was, that I was dealing with, with Mark: This type of thing, began, almost immediately, after I had told him that I loved him! He had so carefully curated his behaviors, to get me to fall in love with him, in the first place, and then, strangely, as soon, as I did that, it was like some dormant switch, that was already inside his head, before I ever entered the picture, switched on, in response to the words "I love you", and caused him to begin to behave as if he were under the, irrational, control, of some kind of 'automatic tapes', playing, inside his brain. They seemed to be giving Mark
increasingly abusive orders, to be carried out, against me, because I was the one, who had, unknowingly, spoken, the 'trigger' phrase, which set, all of this abuse, in motion. The, last, thing, a woman would ever imagine, when she falls in love, with a man, and speaks those precious words to him, is that, in his mind, it would give him some sick reason or 'permission' to begin to hurt and abuse her from then on. There was, a real contrast, in what, loving, someone, meant to me, versus what it meant to Mark. He had, literally, walked away from our relationship because I had named stuffed animals, and in doing so, he had required, of me, that I come after him, to prevent, his, throwing away, the love, that (I thought), we had found, with one another. (I had stayed with him through all the things he had put me through, many, of which, but not all, are described in this blog post, now, because I tried to honor that love, and the vows that we had taken when we became man and wife.)
He began pitting himself (and my love, for him) against anyone and anything else he knew, or thought that, I loved, in any way, in order to test whether I loved him more than all else. If I'd known, the depth of his insecurity, and manipulativeness, I would not, have done, what I did. I would have written him off, as 'a lost cause'. But, I had, absolutely, NO idea, WHAT, had just happened, with him! I just turned, and looked, to see that he was gone, and then realized he had left the apartment, altogether, without even, one word, to me. So, I went looking for him, and he was outside, preparing to drive away . . . !?! His explanation, was that, he was leaving me, because, he didn't like, that I had affectionately named the inanimate stuffed animals. Let me tell you something: I am 66 years old now. MARK is LONG GONE. Those stuffed animals, are STILL HERE, with me, on my guest bed. THEY are still, welcome, and WANTED. THEY are still, NAMED, and loved. And, I COULDN'T CARE LESS, who, LIKES that, or who, DOESN'T like that. This is 'ME'! THIS, is who I AM!
Just to, sum up, the stuffed animal saga, as far as, Mark and I, were concerned, I did end up, moving the rest of my things to his house, including, all of the stuffed animals, who then sat on the bed, in one of the two guest rooms which were fully furnished by my things, I had brought to this, previously, barely-furnished, home, which, had been, Mark's 'bachelor pad', before, I had moved in. One night, late in our marriage, when he was in, yet another, of these seemingly-out-of-control-but-completely-controlling meltdowns, out of, the innumerable, scenes, that he pulled, such as this (which were, both, withering, and wearying, for me), he actually took one of the tiniest, of my stuffed animals, HOSTAGE. Then, he locked himself in his 'Man Cave', downstairs, which was, his hideout, especially, when he sulked (which was most of the time, once we were married), and he screamed through the door, at me, that, HE WAS GOING TO CUT IT OPEN, WITH A KNIFE, and pull its stuffing out! This man was actually TELLING me that he was trying to hurt ME by KILLING one of my STUFFED animals. It's no wonder, that stories abound about narcissists murdering pets, or killing, other, people, who are loved, by the abuser's victim(s).
As the judge at the courthouse had Mark and I face one another and repeat vows, I was, surprised, to see that, tears, were running down his face; not mine. I shall diverge here, a bit, and say that he was under the influence of his sign, of Cancer.
Cancers are known for being extremely emotional creatures. I could cite websites that describe their astrological aspects in greater detail because as all my readers know, I do digress ALOT, as it is. But we need to go on with my anecdotal account of this man, and this marriage, as I want to get, all, I have to say, said, about this person, in this post. This relationship was by far the worst chapter in my life story, even though, much of my life has been heartbreaking, for me. It is not something that I ever want to exist in again. Not even here, by my having to relive this in my memory, in order to recount it now. Too many things in this life have been a living hell, for me, but this marriage, was my dance with the devil. When the courthouse ceremony ended, which was very brief, Mark and I left the building, and stood just outside it, alone together, in that very first moment since we took our vows to one another. He turned toward me, and took my hands in his. Looking, deeply, into my eyes, he said to me, "Now that we're married, if you ever cross me, I'll kill you!" I was simply stunned, by that remark. I had no idea, where that even came from! There was nothing preceding that which would have provoked that from him. I, so wish, that I had immediately gone right back into the judge's chamber, and asked, that the marriage license be destroyed. The ink wasn't even dry on that document when Mark, literally, threatened to KILL me-- for NO reason at all! I didn't go back in, though. Instead, I went forward with Mark into our life together. I can't explain to you what I, still, to this day, cannot really explain to myself. Alot of things were in play for this to happen as it did. Including, that, I had been, groomed, from the time I was a very young child, by my narcissistic mother, and dysfunctional family, to believe, and accept that, for some, inexplicable, reason, I deserved this type of bizarre behavior, from my 'loved ones'. I DIDN'T KNOW, what "normal", "healthy", relationships, even looked like. That, wasn't modeled, for me, by my parents; and I had not, ever, experienced it, in, my own, marital, relationships, with these men.
Virtually everyone, 'puts their best foot forward', when, they are, starting to date, someone new, but, narcissists, do something different than that. They put a false self out there, to completely deceive, the other person, in order to con them, into that relationship. Calculating, and cunning, these abusers can appear to be out of control, but are actually some of the most disciplined, and determined, people on the planet, as far as, them getting their own way. They are emotional equivalents of babies, insatiably, demanding, and draining, to the person, they have attached themselves to, in order to siphon the very soul of that other human being dry, as a nourishing supply to feed their egocentric insecurities. They are never satisfied; and, eventually, the other human being, that is their, chosen, supply, is USED UP, and left being nothing, but a shell, of their former self, due to being bullied to the point of burnout. I refuse to relive everything, that Mark put me through, to write about all of that here. I will only provide enough of it, so that, you can, hopefully, grasp, what I am trying to describe, about what this relationship was like, for me.
We went to a hardware store one day, to get paint brushes for the house, and we were simply, having a, very basic, conversation, in this large store, on a Saturday morning. There was no argument, or tension, between us, in any way, to provoke him to do to me what he did next. As I was standing there, in the aisle, with him, waiting for him to choose what he wanted, he suddenly grabbed me by the throat and held me that way for about a minute (which feels longer than you think when someone is nearly choking you that way). For some reason Mark felt safe treating his wife that way, in a demonstration of his dominance of me, in this, very, public place; and the fact that, other men DID walk by, and said, or did, NOTHING, both SCARED and HUMILIATED me. Mark had COUNTED ON the fact that, him treating me this way in a public place would not get him in any trouble. He did that to me, merely to inflate his own male ego. SUBJUGATING me, a 128-pound woman (and his wife), merely, because, he COULD. It came out of nowhere, for no reason. He, grabbed me from the front by the throat, holding it tightly in his grasp and nearly choking me; and then, he just let me go, and with a, superior-sounding, sneer, in his voice, he told me that, we were leaving, now. Why, when a woman, has given you her heart, and only wants to love you, even after she realizes you are not the man, you conned her, that you were, would you have any reason, to act like this?
The Gaslighting Effect @RevaSteenbergen - A narcissist wants to do 'malicious things' that leave you needing answers. To plague your mind, provoke suffering, and keep you hooked. Closure can never be obtained with a fool like this.
They want to confuse you - A gaslighter will try and undermine your confidence, and not allow you to have this sense of wellbeing, which is why their behavior is particularly unpleasant.
One of the reasons that, victims, of narcissistic abuse, aren't believed, is because, the things, that are done, to us, are so, irrational, and bizarre, that, most, people, simply, can't believe, that, what we are telling them, is true. That, deprives, us, of advocates when we need them the most! Even more hurtful and frustrating, when
the narcissist tells people their lies, about it, THEY ARE BELIEVED. Even when, the things, they come up with, defy, common sense, if those people, hearing it, would JUST THINK ABOUT IT. At one point, Mark actually told someone in his unit that, I had, a black eye, because I had run into a doorknob with it! I am 5'9" tall, and NO DOORKNOB, is high enough, to hit me in the EYE! Yet, they said that, HIS account seemed 'credible' to them; so, very little, was ever really done, about him abusing me, as far as, his, military, chain of command, was concerned. Because they were made aware of, my taking out a couple of different Protection Orders, against him, though, they did tell him that he was to stay away from me. He, violated, both, of those Protection Orders, however, and his commander's orders, to stay away from me, so those things didn't help me. Mark, would just, show back up, at the house, which terrified me; crying and carrying on, about how he loved me and wanted us to get back together, even telling me that he was there IN SPITE OF his being told not to do that, by his own commander. In between, all, of the, abuse, cycles, were the, reconciliation, cycles, where, women, such as, myself, continue, giving these, monster-men, more, chances, because they promise, they are going to stop doing it. I did LEARN MY LESSON, finally, though, by the time I got out of this marriage, with BARELY MY LIFE, and LITTLE ELSE, when it was, all said and done. There had been days, when Mark would come home from work, and tell me that, he felt like, the luckiest man, on the block, because, he had smelled the aroma, of homemade stew simmering on the stove, and had realized as he entered his home that it was coming from his own house, and not, some neighbors'. He left me romantic notes, saying that, he wanted to, make love to me, when he got home. But, other times, without any warning, or explanation, he would snap, for no apparent reason at all, and begin to be very destructive. One morning, I went downstairs just to give him a hug, and a kiss, before he left for work, but soon fled, back upstairs, because he flew into a rage, and began, trashing, the room, down there. Throwing things, and yelling. I had never been able to make any sense, of these, sudden, violent, mood swings, of his! There was, NO rhyme or reason, for what set him off. It was weird!
This time though, I SAW an explanation that I had never really considered before, but, as a Christian, I certainly, should have. Mark had set up the room downstairs to be his Man Cave, complete with a full bathroom. So he was able to stay in that room, indefinitely, unless he ran out of food to eat. I had begun, to see a pattern, noticing that, every single time, he flew into a violent rage, he retreated, to it, or, had been in there, before he began acting like that. This particular morning, I ran up the stairs to get away from him, when he became enraged for no reason at all. I had ONLY gone down there to give him, a good-bye hug, and kiss, before he left for work! As soon, as I heard him, go out the downstairs door, to the garage, and drive off in his car, I started to go back down there from where I had fled upstairs to the main part of this split-level house; to pick up the mess that he had created by his throwing alot of things around, down there, in his fit of rage. But, just as I, turned, to go back down the stairs, I saw a demon standing there on the landing, beside the front door, and it took me by surprise, so I gasped. I'd become able to see demons ever since back in high school when I had became a Holy-Spirit-filled Christian-- known as, a, Charismatic, Christian, then, from a Holy Spirit REVIVAL, that was spreading across the world, at the time, with tongues, visions, signs and wonders following the infusion of believers with the Spirit of God. I was raised as, a Christian believer, and was, water baptized, and so forth. But, this, was a whole new thing. Caroline, my friend, from study hall, had first. told me, about being, a, spirit-filled, believer, after being, baptized in the Holy Spirit, but, I had resisted it, because what she was describing seemed 'crazy' to me at first. When she had me over to her house for a weekend sleepover, I ended up, SEEING a demon, myself, for the very first time, and it REALLY SHOOK ME UP! I then prayed, with Caroline, and her parents, who had all, already, become Spirit-filled Christians, and I, also, became a, spirit-filled, tongue-talking, believer, myself, then. IT, WAS, AMAZING!
[NOTE: I saw this on Facebook. She was responding to someone else's post but it applies to this situation, as well, because I am an empath, which I have shared in other posts, about myself. I have been able to see into the spiritual realm, since I was a very young child, and I also discern spiritual forces. I am sharing it, below.]
Lynn Westrich
She is probably an empath. Read what an empath can do. I am one and I see things others don't. I have seen spirits and ghosts. I pick up energy from people. I hate going to the doctor and sit in the waiting room and feel other people's thoughts and pain. It is a gift and is not a devil like so many holier than thou people think!
[NOTE: Despite the depiction, above, that is not an accurate rendering, of any, of the demons, that I have ever seen. The ones I have seen, with my own eyes, are much shorter, in stature-- even shorter than me by at least a couple of feet-- and they look like literally charbroiled, black, creatures who move, extremely, quickly, when they want to. The thing that is most interesting, to me, about them, is that, I would have thought that their eyes would exude HATE, because we assume that is the opposite of Love-- which, GOD is-- and they, oppose God, and His Kingdom. So, I was surprised, that the eyes, of demons, are NOT filled with hate, but with a look of pure, compounded, endless, MISERY. I suppose that makes more sense as they must live, eternally, separated, from ALL love, joy, peace, and the rest of the Fruit of the Spirit, due to, rebelling, against God, with Lucifer, and being, cast out, of Heaven, forever, to live in torment; and now, also cause that, where they can.]
That, eye-opening, Christian, experience, straight from the Book of Acts, TOTALLY TRANSFORMED my faith-- and my life! The Bible, suddenly, became, the, LIVING, Word, of God, to me (in fact, the LIVING BIBLE, was VERY POPULAR at that time). I began to pray in tongues, lay hands, on people, and they got healed, and more. Glory to God! The best way, that I have ever found, to describe it, is that, it feels, just like how, the movie, 'The Wizard Of Oz', looks, and feels, when, it goes from, black and white, to technicolor, and, all, the wonder, of Oz, unfolds, from there. It had been awhile, since I had seen any demons, though, when I suddenly saw the one, on the landing, by the front door of (Mark's) house. That sighting was totally unexpected, and it had, really startled me, by its presence, in my home! As soon, as I saw it, and it saw me, it immediately bolted back downstairs, and into Mark's Man Cave. Suddenly, I realized, that, there was a, demonic, influence, on how my husband was acting! Mark had, faked, becoming, a Christian, when we dated, and had, insincerely, prayed the Sinner's Prayer, of Repentance, when I had led him in it, for him to get saved, because I had told him that, a believer, cannot, be yoked, to an unbeliever, according to the wisdom of scripture. As time went on it became clear that he had not given his heart to the Lord. The only time he would even get his Bible out, and read any of it, was, strangely, and tellingly, right after, some, of the times, that, he would beat me. Even then, he wasn't in ANY way acting AT ALL repentant. He read it with his eyes flashing with anger and his jaw tight with rage, with no sign of sorrow, for the fact that, he had just abused me. He once, did this, by STEPPING OVER ME, as I LAY ON THE FLOOR, just after, he had, attacked, me; and he sat down to read it, then, LEAVING ME LAYING THERE! It was, SO bizarre!
Seeing, this demon, and also seeing that it considered its refuge, in this house, to be, Mark's Man Cave, downstairs, helped, to explain, to me, what had, only, been, his, unexplainable, rage, and abusiveness. I started, praying, in tongues*******, and 'pleading the blood' of Jesus******** as I went down to Mark's special room and picked up all the things, that he had, thrown around, all over there. It is said, that demons gain access, to a human soul, because of some, painful, soul wound, that they have experienced in their lives. Mark had told me that his childhood was very troubled and his parents' relationship had seemed turbulent to him, as a little boy, although, he didn't go into much detail, about that. My mother, who was also, a narcissist, had lost her father to cancer, when she was, just a young girl, and by all accounts she had adored him and had been a real 'Daddy's girl'. It's very likely that these profound traumas, of their souls, were what, shaped, these two people, into the, tormented, and tormenting, narcissists, that they were. It doesn't excuse it, at all, but it probably explains alot of it. There is that saying, that, "Hurt people hurt people". That is so true! Being hurt myself, including by both, my mother and by Mark, I DIDN'T NEED any more HURT, though! In alot of ways, I am a STRONG SURVIVOR, but in other ways I am a VERY WEARY Warrior. [NOTE: At the bottom, of this blog post, there's a Reference, to something that, you may be interested in reading, regarding demons, and their activities, in peoples' lives. I did not believe, they were, real, beings, until, I finally SAW, the first one, in the family room of my friend Carolyn's, parents', house when I was in high school. Scary! After, I actually SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES I HAD to BELIEVE, though! Demons are VERY REAL.]
The Predator Pandemic @PredPandemic
We’re told we shouldn’t be so harsh about those with #NPD because their own childhood trauma caused it. I disagree. While most of us will understand why these toxic people became so, it doesn’t excuse their vile, intentional abuse, which, I feel, is evil and unforgivable
One winter night after I got out of the bathtub, I asked Mark if he would rub some lotion on my back, because I couldn't reach it well, at all, myself, and my skin was so dry from the low humidity of the season. He started to do that, as I stood there naked, before him, then, he suddenly, growled, at me, "I cannot stand you!" I was young, slender, and reasonably attractive-- certainly, more attractive than he was, in his features and physique. This, was just one example, of how he would, exploit any type of my vulnerabilities, whether those were physical, mental, or emotional. In this case, I was completely, physically, vulnerable, as I stood there, before him, that once, that I asked him to do that for me. He never said that to me again, but I was never able to feel as comfortable, exposing my, bare, self to him, after that, whether that was, my body, or my soul. He would come out of nowhere, to cut me down, in any way that he could. When it came to, hurting me, he was, very much, an opportunist. After, he said that, to me, he just walked off, out of the bathroom, leaving me standing there naked, and attacked verbally, and emotionally, knowing that, I had not deserved that, from him. It was so hard for me to believe that, this jerk, was, the same, man, who had, pleaded, with me, again and again, to just go out, with him; and when, I finally did, simply because, he wore me down, with his persistence, he had described to me how he was going to love me so well, that he would, single-handedly, 'make up to me' for any and all, of the previous men, who had been in my life, and had broken my heart, or not treated me well, in any way! I made the mistake of believing him. This, was what I got, instead. I think, it is so cruel, for anyone, to do a 'Bait and Switch' in a relationship, by getting the person to become involved with you, or married to you, and then just, shortchange them. I recall, another time, that I was in the bathtub, after Mark had, thrown me to the ground, outside, and I had gotten dirty and muddy, from that. I had already taken a bath earlier, because Mark had agreed to go to church with me, that night. I was so hopeful that, God would do a healing work, in my husband's heart, so that he'd be a happier person, and a better husband. I knew that God could do a miracle, in Mark's heart, and, in our marriage, and I also knew that those miracles were what we really needed to have any hope of making it work. We couldn't go on as it was.
We set out for the Wednesday night service, getting to the end of the access road, that connected to our neighborhood, which, led to, the highway, where the church was located. It is probably, hard for you to believe, when I tell you that, there was no arguing or any particular problem, much of the time, when he would, suddenly, begin to behave erratically-- out of the blue-- without, provocation, or, discernible, reason, for this. If, you, were telling me this, and I hadn't been present to see this type of behavior, for myself, from him, I probably, would not believe it, either. This was a regular thing, with Mark, though; throwing these sudden tantrums like that. It happened most often when, he was doing something that, he knew, I, would be happy about, if he did it; such as his going to church. In cases like those, he often didn't carry through with it after agreeing to do so prior to that. It was like he was a toddler in the throes of his Terrible Twos*********, doing something defiant, to simply, show ME, his autonomy-- as in, 'TAKE THAT!', and 'SO THERE!' This was (supposedly) a GROWN MAN, though! We were JUST DRIVING TO CHURCH, when, Mark stopped the car, at the end of the access road that led to the highway, pulled the keys out of the ignition, with the car running, and threw them AT ME for some unfathomable reason. It was a warm summer evening, so I had the window down. When, Mark threw the keys, they went whizzing past my face, and appeared to go out the window. Then, he got more upset, about that (although, HE was doing ALL OF THIS, 'acting out'), and I hadn't done anything to cause any of it. I was JUST A PASSENGER in the car, and there had been NOTHING to CAUSE this, from him! He just seemed to be upset, and actually antagonized, by me EVER seeming HAPPY! I couldn't just be glad about anything good that went on with us, because he would
wipe the smile off my face-- sometimes literally, by striking me in the face. Now it was starting to be sunset, so the daylight was waning, and his visibility, to search, for the keys, that he threw, AT ME, was diminishing; which, of course, made Mark, even angrier (although, ALL of this was HIS doing, and NOBODY ELSE'S). Since, it became clear that we would not be going to church, after all, I told him that I was going to walk back to the house, and I headed back there, through the field of tall weeds, that was by the access road, to get over to our street. I had stopped doing 'damage control', for the messes Mark created by carrying on in these ways. I had done so much to try to 'put things right' after such episodes of his, and I finally let him, bear the, full, responsibility, for the outcomes, of these tantrums. I was done
'babysitting', this man, who, continually, behaved, so immaturely, and, irrationally.
When narcissists achieve their goal of causing their intended target severe emotional pain, they are pleased.
Before I left the area to go back to the house I pointed out to Mark that there was a large opening to a storm drain on the street, by the car, when he threw his keys at me; saying that, since he couldn't find the keys in the weeds or anywhere else, that maybe they went down into that drain. Meanwhile, his car continued sitting in the road. The only reason he was in this stressful situation was because he simply had to be, contrary, and controlling, to cause me to be upset, and unhappy. So as the sun started setting, and Mark was still looking all over the area, for his keys, I started heading toward home, when he suddenly came running up behind me and shoved me to the ground, as he jerked my shoulder bag away from me and began rummaging through it, as he accused me of taking his keys. I was, his WIFE. I am now, sitting on the ground, in the dirt, and mud, in a field full of tall weeds, where he SHOVED ME TO THE GROUND after ACCUSING ME of TAKING his keys, that HE HAD THROWN, AT ME, for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON WHATSOEVER, on the way to
CHURCH; and this is the man that TOLD ME HE WOULD 'LOVE ME WELL' if I would just BE WITH HIM. I picked myself up off the ground, and tried to get some of the dirt off, my church clothes, and went back to the house. I got into the tub, for my SECOND bath that day, because of Mark. He came in later, as I was soaking in the tub, trying to destress, and told me that, he had finally gotten his spare set of car keys from the house and had gone back to get his car on the access road after he never found the other keys. He tried to sound conciliatory, but, by now, I was well past, trusting him, or his motives, so I figured he was just trying to sweet talk me to see if I would 'confess' to him, that I somehow HAD the keys which he'd thrown at me, as I sat by an open window in his car. Mark was really starting to DISGUST ME. I really had NO RESPECT LEFT, for HIM. As he sat on the toilet lid, by the tub, talking to me, it even crossed my mind, that he might force my head under water, and drown me, in yet another sudden, violent, attack against me, just because he couldn't find his car keys. I told him that I felt like I was a 'baby, beached, whale', in this relationship. Maybe, being in the water made me think of that analogy, but it was such a sad one. I was telling this man that I felt, totally, vulnerable, as well as helpless, and that, I was AT THE MERCY OF, how he was deciding to TREAT me, in this, vulnerable state, which would, ultimately, cause, a, life-or-death, outcome, for me. I was beginning to think that, one, of these times, that he was mistreating me, he would inadvertently kill me. Just like he hadn't MEANT to lose his car keys.
Some of these incidents that I am recounting may sound silly or small, especially, those that happened at the beginning, of this nightmare. But, taken as a whole, I was very nearly destroyed, by these things, that Mark put me through. When this relationship was finally over I was so drained and decimated from it that it took 5 years before I was able to smile or feel joy again. I had no idea, then, how long it would take me, when I was, living those years, or even whether, I would ever feel happiness again. With such a long recovery time, I have never been willing to risk allowing another man to get that close to me, after that. Especially, as I've grown older, and am consciously aware of how little of my lifetime there is left to live, as compared to, what is already behind me, now. It isn't just, the recovery time, if it should ever happen again, and I managed to live through it to, get to, that stage. It takes a tremendous amount of effort and energy, to get to any level of healing, after such a horrible existence, in an intimate relationship with someone that had lied, that they wanted, into your life, to LOVE you. (My eyes just teared up typing that.) This abuse is, the ultimate betrayal, of a human heart. I don't expect that I will ever be fully healed of the heartache that it's left me with, for over 3 decades now, and counting. Mark was, a milestone, in my journey; on the highway to hell. I have no interest, at all, in going that route, ever again, in my life, with any man.
Abusers, are extremely manipulative people. Their aim, is to control, their victim, while they seem themselves to be out of control, to an increasing extent, as they begin to reveal who they actually are underneath the mask they wore to trick the targeted victim into involving themselves in this relationship with them. It, stuns, the object of their affection when they suddenly find themselves being the object of this malevolent mistreatment, instead, and for no, rational, reason. One of the reasons, that describing this to others who have never been through it is difficult, is because the things the victim is telling people about it don't add up logically so it makes them sound like like they are making it up, or making a mountain out of a molehill, or simply imagining things. The perpetrator, was cunning, in grooming their victim, so that, just as a spider weaves its web to trap its victim, the person didn't see it coming; at least, not clearly enough, to comprehend the seriousness of it, and the danger, they were in, once the perpetrator revealed who they really are. When a woman falls in love and they have handed their heart to a man, it is not a simple matter, at all, to extricate herself from this relationship while such a precious piece of her is held in the hands of a person who has hijacked her heart.
The Gaslighting Effect @RevaSteenbergen · Narcissistic abuse is so absolutely insane, that when you attempt to explain "it" you look crazy, because the abuse is crazy, and those who haven't experienced "it" can't believe "it" because to them, it is too bizarre to be true
This wholesome-looking guy, masked, the monster inside. So, how is a woman to know, when he is so convincingly 'loving', in the beginning, clearly demonstrating his capability of, walking the walk, not just talking the talk? Misogyny has to be at the heart of this, worldwide, epidemic, of domestic abuse. There are tragedies, of this type of thing, with men doing this, to the women that love them, all over, the earth. Across all cultures, in all religions, no matter what, the economic status, is. It makes knowing where our safe places are, as women, extremely difficult for us as we try to live our lives in love and peace, when men will not show us who they really are, until it's too late for us to (try to) get out of the relationship with them unscathed. If you read the account of Mark effectively holding me hostage, in the basement of his house, while he kept repeating "I LOVE YOU!", with a menacing tone, with his mouth pressed against my ear (which was written about in the post I previously published on March 6, 2019, the link to which I provided above in this post), then you will know that, his doing that to me, damaged me for life. It made me feel, intense, fear, and anxiety, to this very day, when anyone says that to me.
I literally feel my heart thumping harder, and with, a panicked flutter, along with a breathing issue, that has just started as I type this, which are indicators that I am about to have an anxiety attack just from going back to that day in my mind now. So, I recommend that you read that other post, as it was one of the worst abuses. He taught me to be terrified of the most precious words that any human hears, in their lives, from anyone. That has remained, a real tragedy, and a deprivation, for me. Added to the fact that love was, already, a, behavioral, dirty word to me, due to my, family of origin, experience of the concept, growing up in a home that was not affectionate or affirming and rarely felt 'safe' to me (if only because of mental and emotional reasons; and sometimes, physical ones, as well), I came to be, put off, by THAT 'bond', with whomever was offering that to me. LOVE = FEAR, to me.
I try to be very real, with people, and do all that I can to make sure that they are keeping it real with me, or else I keep them out of my life. Fake facades cause me to feel a type of terror in my interactions with others, when that is what I seem to be dealing with with them. I measure potential relationships, of any and all kinds, by how honest, and how safe, the people seem to be for me. I know that I'm safe when I'm apart from people; so when I let someone in, whether a little, or alot, it is a real compliment, to that person, because that is not an easy thing, for me, to do. I see people as being a potential threat to me, even if that's only to my peace of mind. After the life I've lived so far PEACE is something that I MUST HAVE now.
Individual PEOPLE, are OPTIONAL, for me, at this point. They will never know me, really, if I am keeping my guard up, because I don't trust them. I interact at first, in a tentative way, testing the waters, with people; watching, to see if that risk of mine, warrants, a further one, of my opening myself up, more, to them, if it went fairly well. I want, 'safe' people, in my life, but I don't, need, people in my life, to the extent that I will put up with their crap and consider that as being better than being alone. My privacy is hugely important, to me, because it offers me the best possible 'guarantee' of having peace, in my world. I don't like the way that people collect large numbers of supposed 'friends' on Facebook, for instance, because no one can really invest themselves in that many, CLOSE personal relationships, and really be present on a regular basis, to NURTURE those relationships. I am known for UNfriending people, on social media, that don't feel like real 'friends' to me for any reason and don't seem to be sincere about honoring that type of bond. When I open myself up to anyone it's an honor but also an opportunity I'm giving them. If it starts to feel, to me, like, I gave them too much credit, I slam that door shut. This makes me much more difficult to deal with, now, because it has changed my whole temperament. But, for me, my making the, wrong, choices, about who I've let in, to my life, has become a, literal, life or death, thing, that, I take, seriously. One way, or another, PEOPLE, in my life, have very nearly been, the death of me.
Mark had seemed so tightly controlled in his initial interactions with me, when we sat together, in the bar, where I worked. I noticed it, but, chalked it up to the fact that, some men are intimidated by being around such, scantily clad, entertainers, and get somewhat shy, or tongue-tied, talking to us, as they try to grasp the fact that, we are not, fantasies, but, real, flesh and blood, females, who are doing our job. It was such a tiny-seeming Red Flag. Now if a man doesn't seem comfortable being himself, I really watch that, because, what it may be indicating is that he is not, seeming 'natural', or just being himself, because he isn't being who he really is, underneath what he's trying to make me believe that he is. His having a photo of his ex-wife prominently displayed on his hall wall years after their divorce, and when he was regularly dating me now, was a Red Flag, I noticed but ignored. His only seeming to have any friends that he did things with, when we first started to date, was a Red Flag, because the, very isolated, home life, that we lived, when I married him, gave him constant opportunities to abuse me in all the ways that he did without anyone around to notice that something was going on that just wasn't right. His telling me, after I had moved in, to his house, just before we married, I needed to hide, and not let anyone see me living there, when he had a co-worker come as far as his driveway, one day, was another, Red Flag. Him saying that, his ex-wife, was continually calling her family, to the point that, he had a, huge, long distance, phone bill, and he removed the phone, from the house, when he wasn't home, because of that, so his wife had no access to a phone, when he was not at home, was a definite Red Flag that he explained away as her being out of control, in that way, rather than the, likely, truth, that he, was out of control, and she was desperately seeking support from her family. I would bet my life that he had been abusing that poor woman, just like, he tormented me, because his behaviors with me seemed to be coming from some 'automatic responses', like 'tapes' running in his head. They certainly weren't tied to any rational reasoning, given the realities.
His repeatedly banging his own head, hard, against the door jamb of his bedroom when I, merely, calmly, conversationally, called to his attention that he had called me by his ex-wife's name, as I sat on the bed, talking to him, was a Red Flag. He was abusing himself, doing that, but it was very violent, and punitive behavior, he would soon, be doing, to me, not long after, we were, legally, bound, by marriage.
"Intimate partner violence may constitute physical, sexual, or psychological harm upon a current or former partner or spouse. In these situations, offenders try to control their victims through fear, intimidation, threats, or force. Perpetrators may humiliate their targets, control what they do, withhold information, isolate them from friends and family, and deny access to money or other basic resources." - https://leb.fbi.gov/articles/featured-articles/intimate-partner-violence-a-pathway-to-suicide
However, when I let him know, about it, he went down to the apartment building, and terrified the landlady, after she let him in, this, locked, security, building. She called me, the next day, and said that she wouldn't allow me to move back in due to him coming there screaming and carrying on at her. She didn't tell me what he had said, but since she didn't know he was abusive toward me, I knew that it was true. I wondered why he wouldn't JUST LET ME GO when he had told me to leave if I didn't like it, so many times, and he HAD to KNOW that, I definitely didn't like it. I even tried to get a waitress job in walking distance from his house, so I could save up money to try to escape this. The manager hired me, but as (lack of) luck would have it, it turned out that one of our neighbor's worked there, and saw me, when I came in, to apply, for the job. They, told the manager, after I left, that our house was 'the domestic abuse house' on the block, because they had seen me in the yard, and, frequently, had heard my screams and sobs (although, none of the neighbors ever 'involved' themselves, by saying anything about it, to me, or even by calling the police, when they heard these assaults against me going on, in that house). The manager didn't even call me, to UNhire me. When I showed back up, to get my uniforms, to start working there, he, very, uncomfortably, told me, that he just couldn't have me working there, because of his concern that the violence, my husband, was clearly capable of, would spill over, to my worksite, and involve this place of business. It was very disheartening, to hear, but I understood. It did not help any, that I also had makeup, on my face, that day, in an attempt to hide bruises that were nevertheless visible. If he had doubted, my neighbor's account, that, was, the 'evidence', he needed, to know, she had been telling him the truth.
Anything I had, Mark had to provide, in that situation, of my total isolation in that house. He blocked my attempt to move out, to work, to have access to the car, to have access to any money, etc. Sometimes, he would be gone for days. The food, ran out, sometimes, and things like the toilet paper ran out, also, which a woman needs EVERY time she goes to the bathroom; making that a big problem, for me. Mark had a habit of putting all his loose pocket change into a big glass jar on the floor, and it was fairly full. So, one time, he disappeared, I took the loose change to a bank, in walking distance, exchanged it, for paper money, and walked to the grocery store to get toilet paper, and food to eat. When Mark eventually returned and saw that his spare change was gone, he was not happy about that, although the dilemma he left me in didn't seem to keep him from losing any sleep at night. He started saving his change, in the jar, all over again, which accumulated slowly. The next time, he moved out, with no reason or explanation, HE ALSO TOOK THE SPARE CHANGE in the jar! He made sure he left me with no resources, or dignity.
Caroline 🦋@grow_your_wings - Financial abuse is behaviour that seeks to control a person’s ability to acquire, use or maintain economic resources & threatens their self-sufficiency & financial autonomy.
Despite, his words, Mark was making it impossible, for me, to get out, and on my own, again. I was completely dependent on him, in every way, now. I felt trapped and in the swirl of stress, I lived in, nonstop, now, I couldn't seem to think of any coherent solution to this dilemma. Mark started moving in and out for awhile, and saying, he was staying with friends of his. There was never anything precipitating that. For example, that morning, as he left for work, he would, also, leave a note, for me, with an expression he used, for having sex, with me, 'setting the date' for us, for that, for that night. Then, he simply wouldn't come home. At all. The, first, time, that happened, I was worried that something horrible had happened to him, and I spent hours, calling the police, about any possible accidents, and, hospitals, for any admissions in his name and such. I even tried asking his unit at the base.
Later, after causing me alot of uncertainty and anxiety, Mark finally called, telling me, he had left, to stay with a friend! Out of the blue. (Later, I worked at a home goods company and came across his name in the database, including an order he had placed-- which the date on it showed it was during our marriage-- and it was for some other address. It also listed a woman's name with his, for that address.)
Once I got a social worker from the base involved, he was required by his unit to be accountable to make sure that he got me there, and even to participate in the appointments, himself, sometimes. Eventually I started getting Protection Orders which said that he was not allowed to come anywhere near me. He had places he could stay, including in a barracks on base, if it came down to it, so I was staying in the house. When he was served the first Protection Order, at the base, at work, he violated it, by coming to the house, and crying, and saying that he didn't want our marriage to end, and that he would do better, etc. Women who go through it, always get these USELESS apologies from these men to sucker them into staying, with their sorry ass. We each learn, the hard way, too, that, whether, he SOUNDS SO SINCERE, and SO SORRY, or is even CRYING and BEGGING, that THEY DON'T MEAN IT. They NEVER REALLY MEAN IT. As part of the intervention he had to also let me have access to the car, some. He was to just drop it off in the driveway for me to use. During one of his move outs, he called and left me a voicemail on the answering machine (I screened the calls, so I let it go on there, to see what crap he was saying, before, I had to deal with it), leaving me a phone number, he was at, he said, and he was sobbing, into the phone, begging me, to PLEASE call him, because he loved me so much. But, when I called it, some woman answered and said to me, in a haughty voice, that Mark told HER, that if I called, he wanted her to tell me that, he DIDN'T WANT TO TALK TO ME. (I think, he might have done it, as a set up, thinking he would make me jealous, but by this time, I already knew he was a loser, and an asshole, and all I wanted was a way out.) GAMES. ALL, he could DO, from the moment, I MET, this miserable specimen, of manhood, was to play GAMES. If people like that spent this much energy making a HAPPY life, with someone, instead of using it all to make the object of their 'affection' MISERABLE, they, could have alot happier life, themselves. But, these are NOT rational people.
At one point, in the saga of instability, that was my marriage to Mark, I did briefly move out, to a very old apartment building, that was easy to get into, because no one much wanted to live there. It was a, dingy, depressing, place. Mark asked me to come back home, and since hope still sprang up in my soul, though it was dim, at this point, I agreed to go. It seems crazy, even, to me, now, as I write about it, but since, this was the first time I had actually moved out (so he saw, that I could find a way, to do that, eventually) I thought, Mark would, come to his senses, and stop being so abusive and unstable, now. After all, because I moved out, he could clearly see, that he could, actually, really, lose me. He came, and took me out, for supper. When we returned to the apartment, after dark, I flipped on the light, and roaches, that had come out of hiding while I was gone, ran all over the place, and across my belongings. Mark had come in the door, just after me, as I saw this and said that. It was ALL THAT I SAID. When he was quiet I turned to see why he had not said anything, about it, since he had come to bring me home, and, that quick, he was gone. He either didn't like that I had SAID that, about the roaches, or that I would likely be bringing THEM with me now, when I returned to live in his house.
This is one, of countless examples, of how INSINCERE Mark was about wanting to make our marriage work. I was IN this 'roach motel' in the first place, because of his abusiveness toward me, and THIS VERY DAY he had come to beg me to COME HOME. Yet, as soon as I agreed, despite my realizing, at this point, that he would likely NEVER STOP ABUSING ME, or EVER BE STABLE, as a man and my husband, he just WALKED OFF, and LEFT ME STANDING THERE, bewildered by the fact that just because, I made that, ONE COMMENT, about ROACHES, HE was GONE, again.
He didn't want me back. He just wanted to test my love for him, as an ego trip to see if, I would even still be WILLING, to TAKE him BACK. He didn't want ME. Mark wanted his EGO stroked. HOW MANY TIMES, could he hurt me, abuse me, disrupt my life, threaten me, nearly, kill me, and STILL, convince me, to TAKE HIM BACK.
Words Finally Spoken @FinallyWords
When a narcissist tries to come back to you, they're just testing the waters to see if they can. They haven't changed. Just know that each time you choose to take them back, they will be worse than they were before. If that's possible? And its possible.
I was SO MAD about that, that day, that I went outside, to find him, and confront him, and saw that, he had left his car, there, and had started walking home, from this apartment near downtown Omaha to his house in Bellevue. Google maps just showed me that was about an 8 mile walk, taking about 3 hours to do (unless, he chose to call a cab, etc.). The ONLY reason he would DO that would be to give me the means to (1) prove my love, yet again, by coming after him in the car, and/or (2) move back to the house, which he had just begged me to do again, by leaving the car, so I could; as his way of saying, he wanted me there, so, he provided the means. Any respect I had for my husband had been slowly but surely leaking out, of me, every single time he pulled this shit, on me, which was becoming nonstop. If you can't, trust, a man, and you are losing your respect, for a man, you cannot LOVE a man. I WAS SO PISSED that I DID get in the car and go back to Bellevue.
They turn people against you - Gaslighters want you to react in a strongly emotional way, so they can accuse you of irrationality.
But, I rolled down the car windows, before I did that, and when I saw Mark on the side of the road, clearly walking with every intent of the ROACHES driving me into his arms once again, if NOT HIS FADED 'CHARMS', so that in the spirit of romantic reconciliation, I would pull up, alongside him, and start, begging him, to get in the car, for us to 'go home', I whizzed right past him, loudly honking my horn as I did, and I went back, to the house, and went to BED. I HAD HAD IT, and I was READY, to HAVE IT OUT, with this idiot I was married to. I didn't know WHICH ONE OF US was going to make it out, of this hell, he had created, for us both to live in, by his instability, immaturity, abusiveness, and manipulations, but at THIS point, I didn't CARE if it was ME or HIM. I was so distraught, I almost, had a DEATH WISH, now. Mark had put me through so much crap, that, at this point, I was, showing him, a bit of how it feels to be on the receiving end of that. Only, it was constant, for me.
Frankly, when I woke up, the next morning, in his house, and he was, nowhere to be found, and I was, SHOCKINGLY, STILL ALIVE, and not, KILLED, IN MY SLEEP, I didn't think that he even came back to the house, at all. I called the pastor of the church I had gotten Mark to attend with me, not long before this, and he stopped by. Mark's Man Cave in the lower level of the house, looked out on the front yard, and when the pastor arrived and got out of his car, to come toward the front door, I saw Mark rushing out the front door, SCREAMING at the pastor about how I had MISTREATED HIM, for leaving him, in my dust, with the car, the night before. The fact that, he was FINALLY SHOWING SOMEONE, how OUT OF CONTROL, he acted, was a SHOCK to ME. He had always made sure, that no one else saw him, act this way, except me, so no one would BELIEVE ME. However, he, truly, felt JUSTIFIED, showing someone else, THIS MUCH ANGER, at ME, because, for the FIRST time in our relationship, I had not TAKEN his SHIT, and had, given him a dose of it, BACK.
Misogyny, IS RAMPANT, in this world, I have to live in! This, same, pastor, by the way, spoke with me, over the phone, shortly after, this incident, when he calmed Mark down in the front yard by talking him down from his tirade, while neighbors peeked out their windows at the commotion. MY LIFE WAS AT STAKE. I had made that clear to him. His advice to me was to be a loyal wife, and 'stand by my man', and not to tell anyone else that Mark had 'a little temper problem', because, after all, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING was that Mark's AIR FORCE CAREER not be put in jeopardy. I never went to that church again, after he said that, to me. Men, DO NOT KNOW what women are ACTUALLY put on this planet for, so they use us, and abuse us, and expect that to be alright, with us. I am so GLAD I am SINGLE now! Men can make themselves seem so PATHETIC by how they, mistreat us-- even in, NON-romantic interactions, and relationships-- and then, actually, still, expect us, to respect them, or trust them. IT IS SO MADDENING to me! That's why I cut my losses and keep them out of my life if they even TRY to bring their BULLSHIT into it. As Mark's credibility eroded with his chain of command at the base, he became desperate to discredit me, to restore, their faith, in him. So, he actually brought a 'delegation' of sorts from his unit which even included his commander, over to the house, to negotiate the end of this thing. It worked out well, for me, because they acknowledged that he is required by the military to pay spousal support, while we were still legally married, which I then received, through our divorce. It was funny to me, though, to see Mark, march into the house, so, self-righteously, with these military members, in tow, dispatched to try to end this domestic war, between us, when I KNEW THE TRUTH, and I knew, that MARK KNEW THE TRUTH, and, these, folks, HAD NO CLUE, because, they, were like, I was, when, I first met Mark-- the 'Mark', he made sure, people, THOUGHT, that he was, like THESE people, thought that he was-- and they gave him the benefit of the doubt. Just like, I had, at first. I listened, to all they had to 'contribute', to the detente, that they were, trying, to achieve, between Mark and I, which made clear to me the SCOPE OF THE LIES he had told these people. When they were finished, as Mark sat across from me, and they looked on, I spoke, directly to Mark, looking him right in the eyes, with these people as witnesses, hearing me, say this, because, someday, they might, believe one of his victims (since, I'm sure I was not the first, and I'm also sure that I was not the last), saying, "Mark, you can con people, that don't live in this house, and it is clear, that you have. But, you know the truth, and I know the truth. You have been abusing me, while also, begging me, not to leave you, whether these people believe that, or not; and, ONE DAY, you will want me to come back, yet again, but IT WILL BE TOO LATE. TOO MUCH DAMAGE, will have been, done. And, YOU WILL HAVE LOST ME, FOREVER. The, one, person, you CAN'T CON, NOW, Mark, is ME." He looked at my face. He knew, I meant, what I said, to him; and that happened.
@survivorstrong3 - Abusers don't abuse everyone: their boss, their co workers, their casual friends often have NO CLUE. Abuse is a choice. It isn't losing control, it is FOR control. Abusers can easily manipulate your view of them as long as they do not behave in public as they do in private.
One, of the times, that he wasn't living there, Mark called, on my birthday, to talk to me, and started his shit, to be sure he ruined THAT day, for me, too. I told him that I was going out to celebrate my birthday; and I did. I went to a local bar and sat, talking to, a friend, about how, I needed to find a way, to get out, of this bad marriage, while I sipped on a cup of COFFEE. My friend was a bartender there but I definitely didn't want to drink when I was trying to keep my wits about me to be most able to deal with whatever crap Mark would think of to unleash on me, next. I felt, reasonably, safe because one of the legal Protection Orders was in place, at the time. But, when I walked into the house, after putting the car in the garage, I turned on the light, and gasped, in fear, as I saw Mark, sitting on the couch in the dark, waiting for me. It was just one of many moments, that, I thought to myself, THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE MOMENT THAT I AM GOING TO DIE. THIS MAN IS GOING TO KILL ME NOW. I think, he wanted to see, if I was going to bring a man home. I NEVER did ANYTHING, like that, for him to have ANY reason to think that, though.
Mark started crying, and saying that, he HATED being apart from me, and wanted to come home. He told me he was trying to protect his military career, though, so he had told, his commander (whom, the base social worker, had involved, in this), that I was the problem, not him, so that they would take his side and sympathize. He was admitting what I already knew. He was, supposed to, not even be, around me, but, he didn't leave, and he said he would just not tell anyone that he moved back home. Again. The next day, though, he drove me over to the base Bx to buy something, that I needed, and-- lo and behold!-- HIS COMMANDER, was there, in the same aisle, shopping, himself, and SAW US THERE TOGETHER. No one, said a word. The commander, was probably, realizing, that he was really playing, 'devil's advocate', to keep backing Mark, in this thing, and buying into all Mark's lies (like when Mark told his commander that my BLACK EYE was from me running into the DOOR HANDLE, really hard, with, MY EYE). Mark, was, probably, realizing, that all his lies (and manipulating, everyone involved) were unraveling faster now than he could do 'damage control' on. I kept quiet, because, if I stood there, and told, this man, the truth, whether he believed me or not I would surely face retaliation for it from Mark; which could include my death, at his hands; which had been becoming an ever-increasing likelihood, the longer this went on. By the time I finally did get a way out, I did NOT get any more Protection Orders, because, for me, at least, it was USELESS and POINTLESS. Mark violated, both of them. I COULD have EASILY been KILLED BY HIM, either one, of those times. Those documents, at least, when I had them, have your address on them, and they tell the ABUSER basically: THIS is WHERE this woman IS; so DON'T GO THERE. Yeah, right. Like that's gonna stop these men. GEEZ! You are also in the GREATEST DANGER, if and when, you finally GET AWAY FROM HIM. When, I finally escaped, I went into hiding, with the help of some, really good, friends, of mine. I did not go to stay with THEM-- it was far too dangerous, to involve them in that way. I had to AVOID, directly involving, people, who wanted to help me, because doing so might have put THEM in DANGER, then.
Most people get a sense of comfortthrough having stability,
and they feel confident in their surroundings
and relationships.
While abusers act out of control, the truth is that they are very much in control. If they couldn't help behaving in these traumatizing ways toward their 'love' interest they would have acted like this from the very beginning-- and no one in their right mind would have stuck around for more of that mistreatment for even a second, if they done that, then. I don't feel sorry for the abusers even when people say they do this because of their own childhood, soul, wounds. There are unfortunately alot of people who had difficult and hurtful upbringings and not only would never treat another person this way, some of them become even more empathetic and caring because of it. No matter what, unless they are truly driven to do this, by a demon from hell, they make a choice, to act like this. They feed their ego and temporarily relieve their stress, by using, another, vulnerable, human being, as their punching bag-- whether that is physically, mentally, emotionally, or all of those things. Mark was especially creative, at finding ways, to disturb me, and leave me distraught. I sank, deeper and deeper, into this vortex, of instability, that he brought to my life, until I couldn't find any sure footing, and became, completely unable to cope, with someone, constantly 'jerking my chain', in all these ways. I was demoralized by it, to the point that I grew despondent, and eventually suicidal. I had tried to protect myself, physically, from Mark's assaults on my body, only to nearly lose my life, at my own hand, because I was just too tired in my soul, to go on now, in a way that I could never make you understand, if you have never been through this, yourself.
The cycles of abuse, got closer together, with less, 'normalization', in between the episodes. Mark also displayed, more instability, and much more manipulativeness, as time went on. Eventually, I had to go to the ER at the base hospital for injuries I was receiving, at his hands. It was chilling, when the doctor told me, once, after Mark struck me in the head, that if he had hit me, that hard, only 1/4 of an INCH, closer, to my temple, he would more than likely have KILLED me. I wasn't able to open my jaw very much at all, for several days after that. I couldn't even suck on a straw, or take a bite of any food, or chew. All I could do was take a small spoon and try to guide a little bit of warm, liquid, broth, into my mouth. Near the end of the marriage I started sleeping with a knife underneath my pillow in case he tried to strangle me in my sleep or something; but, I was also, afraid, he would find it, there, and use it, on me. I'll never forget the very first night that I was finally out of that house, for good, and in an apartment of my own, again, hiding from Mark, because he had violated, both, of the Protection Orders, which, had been, issued, against him, while, I was still in his house. I had sold everything, that I owned, in an, emergency, Garage Sale. The things, that I had owned, before this man came into my life and upended it with craftiness, confusion, constant conflict and chaos.
EVERYTHING that I HAD BROUGHT, into the marriage, WITH ME, except for a few personal, and sentimental things, my clothing, a few sheets, a pillow, and kitchen things, when the ER doctor finally had him arrested, and jailed, for the injury that could have cost me my eye. My friend Judi Taylor, an RN, helped me with the sale so that I would be gone, into hiding, with no (useless!) Protection Order this time, before Mark could get himself bailed out; because, we both felt, now, that he had, an arrest record, for abusing me, and he had violated both, the Protection Orders, telling him to stay away from me, he might try to kill me, now, because of feeling like he had very little left to lose. Statistics show that this is, in fact, the time that the victim is in the most danger of being killed by the abuser. I was able to get to safety, mere hours before Mark was released from jail (I had heard). I spread the sheet onto the floor to sleep, that first night. Exhausted after the ordeal of all this abuse from this man, who had gotten into my life, in the first place, by lying, that he would 'love me well' and make up to me, for anything, men, had ever done, to break my heart. I had almost committed suicide, at the very end, just before Judi helped me with the garage sale, to get me out of there. Not, at all, because I ever wanted to die. (I LOVE LIFE! Even, with all of the heartache that it's brought me.)
I had been, just about to, act on, a sudden suicide ideation, that finally came over me, due to feeling demoralized, depleted, and despondent. I simply had NOTHING LEFT IN ME, to be ABLE to GO ON, LIKE THIS, anymore. I also figured Mark would come home and literally finally, KILL ME, as soon as he got out of jail, and I didn't know how to get away, since the abuse caused a continual swirl, of thoughts, and emotions, in me, that overwhelmed me, and prevented me from being able to be, calm enough, or think, clearly enough, to KNOW, what I should do, in this, highly, unstable, situation; or have the emotional and physical energy, that I would need, to, actually do, whatever that was. Ultimately God did a miracle for me just at the
moment when I was about to act on the suicidal impulse, to go take sleeping pills and just go to sleep. . . forever; because I had begun noticing that the ONLY time I was not in excruciating emotional pain and distress was when I was asleep. Judi suggested the Garage Sale, soon after God intervened to stop me from taking the sleeping pills, providing a practical and much-needed glimmer of hope for me that I could actually leave this man, and this hell, he kept me in, behind me. For good!
Since I had my, cockatiel, CeeBee, with me by this time and I refused to part with him, to go into a shelter, myself, because he wasn't allowed in those places, Judi's idea, for the Garage Sale, was the best solution. I realize that, it probably, doesn't make any sense, to you, that I refused, anyone's advice, to get rid of CeeBee and get myself into a shelter, because my life was in danger. But, the rest of, this part, of the story, about my marriage to Mark, will be told whenever I write the post on CeeBee, because my little 'angel bird boy from God' was intertwined with, the last part of that marriage, in my life story. So, even though this, very lengthy, post, is my best attempt to describe this man, and this marriage, and be DONE with even thinking about that, again, after my having to relive these things, now, in order to be able to write this post, I will, still, have to write, a bit more, about the miracles that God did, through CeeBee, on my behalf-- which even SAVED MY LIFE!). Mark had so worn me out that I was TOO BURNED OUT, by him, to GO ON, anymore. It NEVER, was that, I WANTED, to DIE. I was, just, SO WORN OUT, that, I wanted to climb up into God's Loving lap, and GO TO SLEEP. . . FOREVER. The, only, reason, I will ever write about Mark, again, after this post, is to explain what he had to do with God sending CeeBee into my life, at that time. That BIRD, was my soulmate!
I had brought two beds, to the marriage, with Mark, which had helped furnish the 2 bedrooms, that were, left bare, in his 'bachelor pad' days. But, I sold them, and all of my other, worldly possessions, except for, a few, bare, basics, to get enough money, to get out, of his house, quickly, and into somewhere, safe, where I could live in hiding, from him. That first night I was in this, basically empty, unfurnished apartment. I went to get the knife to put under my pillow, which was down on the floor, where I would be sleeping, now, when I stopped, halfway across, the empty room, as I realized, I didn't NEED, the knife, under, my pillow, as I slept, at night, anymore. I was, SO RELIEVED! I sat CeeBee's cage, right beside me, on the floor, because we had no furniture at all now. But, I could FINALLY, sleep, in PEACE. We were AWAY FROM MARK and WE WERE ALIVE. I KNEW God would get us through.
I LOST EVERYTHING, after allowing this man into my life, through, a 'mercy date' with him; that, I ONLY went on, because I FELT SORRY FOR HIM. But he brought, being, a MERCILESS MONSTER, to MY life, as how he repaid me, for my kindness and compassion toward him, when I, charitably, went out with him. Mark brought HELL into MY life through the door of my SYMPATHY that I had shown HIM. When people even HINT, that I should, consider, going out, with some, homely, guy, like Mark was, that, I TRULY HAVE, NO, INTEREST IN, I, almost, react with HYSTERIA, now. I ACTUALLY START TO CRY! I will have to live with all of this TRAUMA, to my SOUL, from MARK, for the REST OF MY LIFE, as it is. So, I am NOT the LEAST BIT 'charitable', now, toward, ANYONE-- that tries to get themselves into my personal life, in a relational way, when I feel in MY gut, that I DON'T WANT THEM THERE! I have, MORE THAN EARNED MY RIGHT, after, all, that I have been PUT through, to TRUST MY GUT and only do what I WANT TO DO about ANY and ALL relationships of ANY and ALL kinds, in, MY OWN, life, going forward! Sometimes, people, try to, 'reason' with me, to get me to, open up, to consider, yet another, 'sympathy' date, or relationship, with, some, man, when I don't WANT to. I nearly DIED doing that!
I've always said, since my marriage to Mark ended, that, you can tell, who's been abused, and who has not, by, their reaction, to my telling them, I was a domestic abuse victim, because the ones that have never gone through this will look at me with a look of shock and horror and say, "You mean, he HIT you?!?" You learn, as you go through it, that, if you LIVE through it, those physical wounds, from being attacked, will usually heal, to some extent, but it's actually the WORDS (my eyes teared up as I type this now), the abuser says-- this person, that tricked you into this nightmare by saying they LOVED you-- that are THE WORST OF IT. Those, go down, to the, deepest, part, of your soul, and stay there. No surgery, can remove them, nothing can extricate them, nothing really, can medicate them or eradicate them. They go into the most vulnerable essence, of who you are as a person, and poison you. (Now, I'm crying, trying to type this, and my eyes are filling with my tears. It hits such a, tender, nerve, to talk about this, at all. THIS IS SO HARD!) I was, cringing, crouching, down, on the floor, one, of the, many, times, that Mark, started to strike me (because that near-fetal position seemed to be the one most able to minimize the damage he did, to my body at least), when he said to me, "I can do whatever I want to you, because you don't want another divorce!"
That was, so many things, to me, when, he said those words. It felt like, more of, a cluster bomb, going off, in my heart, leaving shrapnel up and down my soul. My self-esteem withered under that statement . . . from my husband. I hadn't had to tell him, about my previous marriages. I did though, as painful as that was to tell someone that I loved now that, they needed to decide if, they wanted, to marry a woman that was clearly, damaged goods. Ever since, my half-first cousin seemed to take my virginity, when the relatives had asked him to look out for me, when I came to that city for college-- my first time away from home-- and I dropped out, and married him, because HE had made me 'damaged goods', when it was MUCH more 'black and white', as to what a 'nice' girl WAS, in those days, so I thought, I had NO CHOICE, I had been trying my best to navigate my normal, human quest, to love and be loved, while being acutely aware that I could ONLY offer myself up as being 'damaged goods', to ANY man, for THE REST OF MY LIFE. That feeling in itself was, and is, to this day, excruciating, to me. Mark, KNEW that, and USED it, against me, throwing it in my face, as he stood over me, beating me, while I was on the floor in as tight a ball as I could muster, to block the blows from killing me.
Mark's behaviors were all over the place, but no matter what he was doing at any given time, you could be sure that, it was done, to manipulate people, involved in the situation in some way or other; beginning with me, when he had sold me alot of crap, about him being a great guy, who just wanted to love me well, and make it up to me, for all the ways, that, other, men, had not, done that, for me, before. I never told his family, what he was putting me through, even when, his aunt and uncle came to stay with us, for a brief visit, and his cousin stopped by once, when he was in town. I didn't think they would believe me. Even if they did, they would probably take his side; or, my doing so, would most likely earn me more of Mark's misguided wrath. Having Mark's younger brother tell me off on the phone one day after, he had, apparently, believed, Mark's version, was really hard for me to take, though, even when, it was what I expected. Mark had told me his upbringing was difficult, because his parents had marital problems (maybe where he learned how to treat, his own, wives), that this younger brother, was his parents', favorite son, etc. He did try, to tell them, on the phone, how his childhood had affected him, so negatively, but they were having none of it, from him, and sobbing, he backed off from telling them his truth. >sigh< The legacy that transfers down, from parents, to children, generation after generation, when it is not, a healthy or happy one, is such a source of suffering, in this world. I not only bore the brunt of my own, bad childhood, as the family scapegoat, in my dysfunctional family, I was now bearing the brunt, of Mark's, troubled upbringing, as well. As for me, when things became dire, and dangerous, in my marriage to Mark, I, still, didn't turn to my own family, for, any, help, or support, because, I knew them, so well, by now. My friend, Judi, knowing, the cycles of abuse, and recognizing that, I was in, imminent, danger, of even death, at this point, asked me, on the phone, one day, if I had contacted my family. Even in the midst of this serious time, of great distress, for me, I laughed, at the absurdity, of that. I told her that, they wouldn't help me, and explained the pathological patterns, in my family, that had nothing to do with, love, but, alot, to do with making me pay, for going No Contact with them due to their scapegoating me. A little later Judi called me back, saying, "Deb, I'm so sorry." She told me she hadn't been able to actually believe that, my own family, wouldn't help me when I could very possibly be killed at any time now by Mark. She said she had called my parents' home and my father had answered, and when, she told him the situation, my dad, had said, 'She can go to a homeless shelter, but she's not coming here.' I had CeeBee, at that point, though, and homeless shelters told me they don't allow pets, so I refused to do that. CeeBee was the first 'safe' love I had ever known, in my life, in my own home, and I knew, God, had put that little bird in my life. So, I wasn't willing, to give him up; even if, I LOST MY LIFE, rather than, part with him.
When I love, I love, very, deeply. I can only, do that, though, when I let my guard down, and to do that, I have to, really, trust, the one that I love. CeeBee, was the one, that I, could trust, in my life, then. He was there for me. I was there for him.
That cockatiel, was the GREAT LOVE STORY of MY life, and I look forward to being reunited with him, when it is God's Timing for me to join him in Heaven, someday. I don't want another pet, because, this, is my time, to finally nurture myself, for a change. I have spent my life, nurturing others, to the point of, desperate-to-stop-it, burnout, and I need, the freedom and space, to do the things for myself, that I need, now. It's MY TURN. I've already POURED OUT, all that was IN me to GIVE. I am in a 'recuperation' mode, from all that, in this season of my life. So, I sidestep getting too involved in other peoples' lives (and NEEDS), or them, invading, MINE. I DON'T WANT to be NEEDED by anyone, at this point. I don't want to NEED them, either, beyond the interactions that can, feel safe, for me, and bring me some joy, rather than more stress, or abuse. My soul, feels too much like a dry desert, now. If people can actually WATER it, some, then GREAT. Too many, just seem to, plant more WEEDS, though, or end up siphoning any droplets of moisture they can find in me for their own insatiable thirst. I've become extremely protective of my soul.
The end would finally come, but still, not quickly, or easily. In case you, rightfully, wonder, by now, as you read all the CRAP I took from this man, and still took him back, time, after time, after time, if EVER LEARNED MY LESSON, I ASSURE YOU I DID. Not only, have I remained, happily, and gratefully, single, ever since the end of this marriage, but I have broken things off with men that I have gone out with, AT THE FIRST SIGN, of them pulling, ANY OF THEIR CRAP, on me. When I lived in Myrtle Beach, for awhile, years ago, I met a man, who was, very similar, to Mark: Homely-looking, but very attentive toward me. He also seemed like, a poster boy for the All-American Guy, just as Mark had. We started, going out, together, until, one hot, humid, summer day, as we were out driving along a main road in his old car, that didn't have working air conditioning so we had the windows open, he got annoyed at all the traffic, and the people in front of him that weren't moving, fast enough, for him. Up until then, we had been, having, a very, nice, congenial, day, together. So, I was totally taken aback, when this man who had ALWAYS BEEN so CARING, toward me, up until, this moment, let his temper, get the better, of him, as he made me the target for his frustrations, and he snapped at me, when I was just asking him, where, he thought, we should stop, for supper, since restaurants, lined, this particular street. Flustered, by the standstill, on the street, he, angrily, answered me, with, "I DON'T KNOW! JUST, SHUT UP, OR, I'LL SHUT YOU UP!" As soon, as he said that, since we weren't moving, in traffic, anyway, I got out of the car, and said to him, before I slammed the door shut, "Don't you EVER call me, or come around me, EVER again. NO ONE speaks to me that way, INCLUDING YOU!" I walked over to a restaurant, then, took MYSELF out to eat, and that was IT with him. I learned the HARD WAY, to take EVERYTHING, that men, say, or do, toward me, VERY SERIOUSLY, and NOT to EVER ignore ANY any Red Flags, that show up.
While not everything can be covered in this blog about my marriage to Mark, I do need to tell you how the end finally came. THE FINAL BLOW. It was, a SERIES, of things, actually, that started with my getting a phone call from my family back in North Carolina, telling me that, my, beloved, grandmother, had just died, and her funeral was in a couple of days. By then, I had the pet bird-baby, who had needs, to also think about, so I asked Mark if he would drive me, to North Carolina, from Nebraska, and we figured that, basically, driving straight through, by the time he got approved for Leave from the military, to go, we could JUST MAKE IT IN TIME. ALL I was thinking about, when I asked him, to do that, was how much, I wanted to HONOR my grandmother. It was a very compressed timeframe, for us to make it to the funeral, though, so it was not a stress-free trip, from the outset, for that reason. As we got on the highway, CeeBee, who was in his cage in the back seat, with the seatbelt around it, to hold it safely in place, began to say, "Praise God!", repeatedly, because I had taught him that. The reason I had taught him to say it was because of Mark's abusiveness being life-threatening for me. The Bible says, "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord" (Psalm 150:6), and little CeeBee and I still had the breath of life, in us, but Mark, was a threat to that. The garage door had a heavy chain on it, that made a sudden jerking sound, as it was pulled taut, and then began to open, slowly, almost, ominously, it seemed, to me, when Mark came home, and activated the remote control, he kept in his car, to open it. Every time, that I would hear, that chain, suddenly jerk, and then start to, slowly, raise the garage door, my stomach, immediately, began to twist itself into a knot, of panic and fear, as I realized that my abuser was about to come into this house; and, I never knew, if, THAT day, would be, THE day, that he would FINALLY follow through, on one, of his, many, constant, threats, to kill me, and CeeBee, too. Alot of women, and even family pets, don't ever get out, of such situations, unharmed, or alive. The breath, we still had in us, seemed very fragile, and at great risk now.
Mark had already threatened to harm or kill this little bird by saying things to me like, he was going to put CeeBee out the window (in the snowy, freezing, cold, of winter) to freeze to death or, he was going to put CeeBee in the garbage disposal and turn it on. I'll go into much more detail in a separate blog post about CeeBee that will have to also include the part of his story that overlaps with this marriage to Mark since I got CeeBee during that marriage. However, this part ties in to the end of the marriage between Mark and I. I had come to the point with this abuse from Mark that I actually assumed that one day he would kill me and CeeBee. He had even said that he would. It was just a matter of time, in my mind; and while, I pitied CeeBee, because of being brought into this mess, I felt a kind of resigned hopelessness, at this point, and a feeling that, him killing us, would, probably, be better than, continuing, to live in this hell on earth, Mark caused our daily lives to be. Because, our lives, were held in the palm of Mark's hand, day in, and day out, which was a very precarious place to be, I'd begun teaching CeeBee to talk, when he was just a little baby, and eventually he was able to say "Praise God!" It was a reminder, to me, that, no matter, what happened, God knew, what we were going through, and was, with us, in it. On the trip, to go to my grandmother's funeral, I knew, something, was up, in the spiritual realm, when, we began to hear CeeBee, babbling baby talk, in the back seat, as soon as we got on the highway headed to the church in Mebane, North Carolina, where that was going to take place. I knew from the intonation, that CeeBee was trying, to say, "Praise God!" But, he had yet to say it, clearly, enough, to be understood by anyone else hearing him talking, at this point. He'd never tried to say it for this long, or as many times as this though. While I understood, what he was trying to say, it was annoying, to Mark (probably because CeeBee sounded so HAPPY; and he was not a happy human being, at all). He asked me in exasperation to see what was going on, in the back seat, with this bird! When I turned to look, I was stunned to see that CeeBee had his wings up in the air, and was holding them out as a human would, to praise God. This little bird was praising God! I turned to Mark, and said, "You won't believe me, even if, I tell you." The actual words that CeeBee was trying to say then were not clear enough, to be comprehended, by my husband, who was not at home, when I was trying to teach CeeBee to say this phrase over the course of several months. I was the only one who knew what he was trying to say. [Ascent Through The Dark Night Of The Soul: My Life Reflections: CeeBee: My Feather-Chested 'Studmuffin' is the post about CeeBee.]
That was a Sign of some sort to me, about this trip. On the way, Mark kept doing this thing, to terrorize me, where he would drive, at highway speeds, right up, to the back bumper, of the vehicle, in front of us, and say, "I'M GOING TO KILL US!" He did that, frequently, all the way to North Carolina, from Nebraska, and all the way back. (It was YEARS after that, before I was ever able to get into ANYONE'S vehicle if they were going to go on the highway. I had been TOO TRAUMATIZED.) We got to the church where the funeral was just a few minutes before it began. I didn't even have a chance to go somewhere, and shower, and put on nice clothes. I had to go to it wearing the two-day-old travel clothes, I had on. Probably jeans.
After the funeral we went to stay at my parents' house for a couple of days. That was no less stressful for me than dealing with Mark, but because of, the different dysfunction, I had to endure, with them. Is it any wonder, that I prefer to, AVOID other human beings, so much, of the time? About the only ones, that I will, come out of my, 'standoffish' shell, with, readily, and happily, are those that, I feel safe with, and those that make me laugh. Laughter is so healing to my soul! That and music, are the two, healing forces, in this world, that I am drawn to. While there, Mark and I went to, a theme park, for the day, as, an escape, from the, stressful, reality, of it all. I thought that trying to have some fun together might help us, to find, something, good, in our relationship, together; but, it turned out, to do, the opposite, for me. Even though fun abounds in such places, every ride we went on together, and everything we did, that day, just fell flat, for me. We tried, focusing outward, rather than on one another, because the pain had just become too great between us, by this point. Nothing, was wrong with the theme park. EVERYTHING was wrong, with 'US'. I had my camera, with me, and I snapped a photo, of Mark, near the end of the day, and a stranger took one of us, together, with my camera, just before dark. I recall focusing on Mark, to frame the picture that I took of him, and just before, I snapped it, I thought, to myself, I FEEL, NOTHING, AT ALL, FOR HIM, anymore. Absolutely nothing. He had steadily eroded my love for him, until I didn't feel ANYTHING, for him, anymore. He was someone, I recognized, but I felt no closeness to, now. Just an emptiness. I thought it was odd that I didn't despise him, after all he put me through. But, in the end, it wasn't HATE that I felt, but an indifference. A NOTHING-ness; as if, I had, never, known him, or been his wife, or had intimate sexual moments with him. My knowing EVERYTHING about him, had, by the very nature, of those, devilish, disclosures, caused me to feel an alienation from him. Alienation of affection it's called during divorces; but Mark caused mine.
On the way back to Omaha, I felt tired, and empty. My family, knew, what I was, returning to, with Mark; and, blithely, waved, good-bye, as I headed back into it.I was leaving one place, and family, that were stress, and heartache, to me, and returning to another place, with my husband, to more stress, and heartache, too. That was underscored, as being the certainty I was facing, when Mark began the torment, of me, on the highway, again, on the way back. He edged up to the car, in front of us, with only inches to spare, risking our lives, and the lives of others, on the road with us, and shouted, "I'm going to KILL us! I'm going to kill us all!" I finally reached my breaking point, and I lost it, hitting his right arm, again and again and again with my fist, screaming, from being, SO SICK OF IT, "Then, JUST DO IT! DO IT, MARK! JUST KILL US! GO AHEAD! JUST KILL US, ALL! DON'T KEEP THREATENING IT, for HUNDREDS OF MILES. DO IT already!" He, looked, so shocked, to see me, finally, SNAP, like that. I. WAS. JUST. DONE. I was DONE, with this, abusive, Bait and Switch, that I got because he had LIED to me, that he would, LOVE ME WELL. When, he finally pulled over, to go to a Rest Stop, to use the bathroom, I locked him out of the car, and wouldn't let him back in for awhile. When he couldn't open the car door he tried to get me to let him in, but the look on my face was pure fury, at him, so he backed off, and laid across a picnic table, to try to rest there, while I slept for awhile in the car. I hadn't simply driven off, and left him, there, which, he knew, that, I could have. So, he had the reassurance that, MY overall decency, would eventually allow him back in the car, again; which I did. He was getting, reactions, from me, now, that were CLEARLY SHOWING HIM, that I was, SICK OF HIS SHIT! He had caused smoldering rage in me. MARK, was, a JERK, an ASSHOLE, an ABUSER, a LOSER; and, MY, HUSBAND.
Dr Charlotte Proudman @DrProudman
A common form of abuse that I see is perpetrator's driving a car dangerously. Knowing that she has no way out. She's trapped. Signaling to her that you have the power to end her life. That there will be consequences if she doesn't obey you.
Conversation
Deborah Gayle Robinson @DeborahGayleRo1 - OMG my son-of-Satan abusive ex-husband did this very thing to me! I got a call that my beloved grandmother had just passed away and he agreed to drive me there in this time of grief. Too many times to count, while driving on the highway (from NE to NC), he threatened to wreck us.
A narcissist gaslights others into believing that the victim is the narcissist, by intentionally provoking emotional outbursts, designed to make the victim appear as an unstable aggressor, when the narcissist's abusive tactics are what is creating the instability in their victim.Not long after we returned to Omaha, Mark had agreed to go back to church, with me, but to a different church, than the one where the pastor had actually told me that, despite, my husband, abusing me, that I needed to focus on, protecting, his Air Force career, above all. >sigh< Misogynists make this world so difficult, for us women. It was, yet another time, when, we weren't arguing, or anything like that. Mark had been sitting on the couch, in the livingroom, reading something, I think, while I was back in the bedroom and bathroom getting ready to go to the service. As I finished up, and told Mark, I was ready to go, he came toward the bathroom, as if he were going to use it before we left, just as I was coming past there, from the bedroom, where I had gotten my purse. He didn't go to the bathroom though. Mark walked up to me in the hallway, and without a word of warning punched me in the face, cutting me, above my eyeglasses. I screamed, in shock and terror, as blood began to flow into my eye, making it hard for me to see. Fearing for my life, I grabbed CeeBee's cage, with one hand, and the car keys, in my other hand, and ran out to the car, locking the car doors once we got inside, then driving away, as fast as I could. Mark had not said one word, before he did that, to me, or after, to somehow explain, to me, in any way, why, he thought, I deserved that, from him. What COULD he say? It was a totally unprovoked ambush, of me, by my husband.
He KNEW, that I DID NOT DESERVE THAT, from him! He just, DID IT, because, HE COULD. I drove to the ER at the hospital, trying, not to, wreck the car, because, it was so hard to see, through, all the blood, in my eyes. The doctor had to give me several stitches, and THIS TIME, I TOLD the ER doctor, HOW I REALLY got injured. I had always felt that, I HAD to PROTECT Mark's CAREER, in the Air Force (he was an NCO); even when that was at my expense. That is, culturally, expected, of any military spouse. I finally told him, that my other injuries, I had been seen in there for, were NOT, from me, being CLUMSY, and such, as I had said, in previous visits, to the ER, since marrying Mark. I told him, that I was a victim of domestic abuse! Although I mentioned, and alluded to, some of the other, physical, injuries, which he had inflicted on me, during our marriage, in this blog post, this was the, literal, final blow, and the actual one, that, he was, finally, arrested, and jailed for. It was also, the thing that finally broke me, emotionally, to the point that, I found myself contemplating committing suicide, when I woke up the next morning and saw the bruising and stitches, on my face. That was the only time, in all of this, that I was truly about to act on that impulse to end it all. God did a miracle right at the very moment, I was about to do that, though, that saved my life and gave me hope to believe that somehow, I would be able to get CeeBee and I out of there. That will be covered in the post that I still need to write about CeeBee though. Writing this extremely long post took place over, not just days, but weeks, and it was also, an ordeal, for me, emotionally, to relive, all of these things, as I wrote about them. I have tried to organize it into a mostly chronological order, but each time I did that in order to integrate the new paragraphs, that I added, into what I had previously written for this post, I had to reread it all, to try to find the correct placement, for the added information. That became prohibitively painful, for me, to have to keep doing, time after time, as I worked on this post. So, I finally stopped doing that. I hope it will be readable for you, and not too confusing. To be clear on this point, I only contemplated suicide, once, out of all that this monster-man put me through, so when you see it spoken of, in several different paragraphs, they always refer to this, one, instance, that I just told you about in this paragraph. I am a survivor! A strong person. Even, then. I just became, a very, tired, and broken, person, then.
The doctor filed a police report, then, and Mark was arrested. I don't know if they coordinated the arrest with the Bellevue police, since, Mark lived off base, but, he was, taken to jail, for doing it. The base social worker, who had been working with me, due to the abuse, and was, in the loop, on such things, about base personnel, told me that. She also explained to me that I only had a couple of days, until he'd be released, though, so Judi helped me hold an emergency garage sale, selling all my belongings, that I had brought to the marriage, and Susan helped me load the moving truck, I had rented, for the little that was left. She told me later that when Mark, got released, from jail, he went, straight, home, looking, for me; just, a few hours, after I had, finally, MOVED OUT, and had gone into hiding, in an apartment. Susan, was the base social worker, who taught me the dangerous cycles of abuse.
Over time, as she heard me describing more and more concerning things that my husband was doing to me, she became worried that my death was near if I didn't get out SOON. She finally flat out told me, that she believed, if I didn't, get out of it, NOW, I WOULDN'T LIVE to get out of it, ALIVE, later. That, was a, scary, reality check, for me, because I'd never been through, FULL THROTTLE, domestic abuse, like this, before, even though my husband, Tom, had done some more minor acts of abuse-- if you can call, ANY abuse, "minor". Susan was a trained social worker, who, sadly, saw this type of thing in her practice, quite often. She taught me, the predictable cycles, of domestic abuse, and was, patient, with me, not, wanting to, give up, on Mark, for far longer than he had any right to expect, or deserve, from me. She explained that it was a kind of denial; that women had trouble coming to terms with the fact that the man they had given their heart to and joined in union with as their wife, was not ever, the man he had made her think that he was. The woman was in love with an illusion, that she can't admit to herself was a trick and a trap, that SHE FELL FOR, trapping her into abuse until she either came to terms with that truth, or more than likely, died, at the man's hands, living in, her denial. I did, the same things, that virtually, ALL women do, when they are lured in by an abusive, narcissistic, man, who got into her life, her heart, and her body, by lying: He was going to be everything her heart had ever longed for from a man. It is SO SAD, to me, that men USE a woman's longing for love, against her, to ABUSE her. The fact that a MONSTER can wear a MASK that makes them LOOK LIKE a GREAT GUY, is TERRIFYING, to me. I prefer to have male friends, that are, either, gay, or married, or both so that I never have to worry about being TRICKED and ABUSED again. The SCARIEST thing, to me, is when some single guy acts, even a little bit, like he is going to, focus, on me, and pursue me, 'romantically'. NO! NO! NO! NO!
and NO!
and, still, NO!
I am SO GLAD I am SINGLE. Not just because of all this TRAUMA in my SOUL due to men, mistreating me, either; although, THAT IS, CERTAINLY, ENOUGH, to make me this way. I never did like being bound and tied to one man, to the exclusion of all others. I don't mean sexually. I am, very, health conscious, and have no desire to get STDs, or Covid, or anything else, from, close exposure, to a man. I am not, promiscuous. I just enjoy, having my freedom, as a single woman. PLEASING ME! Men, have been a HUGE disappointment, to me, in general, and based on my own experience, with them, they TAKE MORE than THEY GIVE, and they are FAR MORE TROUBLE than they are WORTH. My marriage to Mark put the period at the end of the sentence, for me, as far as marriage, is concerned. WHY, would I WANT THAT?I never should have even gone out on that first mercy date, with this loser. Loving him, in spite of everything, was MY stupidity, but he had SAID, all the right things, and SEEMED so sincere, that I ignored all the Red Flags, until he SANK my Titanic.
One of the things, that Mark did, while knowing, full well, what my situation, with my family, was, took place years after our divorce, when I had thankfully not had anything else to do with him, during all that time (or even to this very day; thank God!). When he asked me to marry him, I didn't think it was right, to go into that without giving him, a full disclosure, account, of my past, and the skeletons in my closet. I felt that, to be truly one with someone, they have to know who and what you are bringing to the relationship, and they must decide, for themselves, if that includes anything that may be a deal breaker, for them. Hiding things just doesn't seem, to me, to be what someone should do, that is entering into a marital union. The irony, is not lost, on me, in retrospect, that, I was, risking it all, to be honest, and transparent with Mark, while he was doing the complete opposite of that with me. I needed to know that, he was entering into marriage, with me, with his eyes open, to exactly, who I was. He was doing the complete opposite, of that, though, by making sure that I only saw his fake persona and did not know any of the ugly truth, about him, that was, carefully, tucked in, out of sight, behind, his mask. He had seemed so sympathetic, as I told him all about my life, up until we had met. I described to him how I had taken myself to the hospital, at one point, when I was married, to Tom, and, begged them, to let me, be checked in, to the mental ward. [https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/03/two-memories-i-have-from-my-marriage.html]
I'd not been coping well with Tom's instability and immaturity, and a few, violent- seeming, episodes, that he had thrown into the mix, in our marriage. (What Tom, put me through, would soon, pale, in comparison, to what, Mark would do to me.) I told Mark about that, because I was recounting, to him, how horrible, and hard, going through that was for me. I also wanted to know that he understood, why, I chose to put myself in a mental hospital for a few days, because of the instability that Tom had brought to my home life, when that should have been, my haven of peace; my refuge and my retreat, from the sadness, and the stress, of this world. Mark, used that information, that I had told him, to try to discredit me, in a court of law, when he had to appear there, for abusing me. He had hired, an, unethical, attorney, who had simply gone into the hospital, or sent Mark into the hospital, to request my, private, medical records, from that one admission, when I was Tom's wife; which was illegal yet they managed to do that. When I found out about that later, I called the hospital, Medical Records department, and spoke to the woman, who, actually, admitted, to me, that, she, was the one, who, gave them that. Her, only response, to my, indignant, outrage, about that, was, basically, 'Whoops! My bad.' It wouldn't have solved it, to sue, the hospital. The damage was done. I had to live with, the fact, that, Mark, would have, those documents, for the rest of my life, and would do with them, whatever he wished, at any time. I have had to live with that, as, yet another, violation, of me, by him. All of this, that he has put me through, has come about, because, I had finally relented and agreed to go on the 'mercy date' with him, because he had made me feel so sorry for him, that it was his birthday, and if I didn't go, he had, told me, then, he would spend it, all alone.
The end should have come LONG BEFORE it DID. I took ALOT of physical, mental, and emotional BLOWS, from this man, because, I was, still, able, to believe, then, that, LOVE CONQUERS ALL. THAT IS A LIE. IT DOES NOT. It SHOULD, but it FAILS every day, on this planet, because, it CAN'T be a ONE WAY STREET. I won't share, every single incident, about this troubled relationship, because, it traumatizes me, to this day. So, although it must be covered in my blog, because it was certainly a dark night of the soul, for me, I only want to do, this one post, about it, and put it behind me. I have put it off, for over three years, of writing posts about my life. It needed to be done, but I am still sitting here, trying, to type, about it, while doing all I can to fend off a full-blown anxiety attack. Even though there's enough to say about it that it could easily fill SEVERAL, LONG, posts (and as my readers, you are well aware that, when I write, a LONG post, it is, REALLY LONG!), this post should be sufficient, for you, to know, what it was like, for me, for the most part. It really was, just a cycle, of more, of the same CRAP, from him, all, the way, through. The same way the end had to come, to that horrible marriage, it must come here, too, with my description of it. I am HOPEFUL that my enduring, writing about it, will be a source of, some further healing, for me, in regard to it, as it has been with other posts, about other people, who have, deeply, affected my life, in some, damaging, way. That, is the, only, thing, that could, ever, make, reliving this, worth it, to me.
NOTE: I am on Pinterest, @deborahgaylerobinson, and I have a Board about Mark that is named "Who M.E.M./'Son Of Satan' Was In My Life". There are hundreds of Pins on that Board, that further describe what I went through with this narcissistic abuser. Some of those Pins were used in this blog post; some, from other sources.
* Mark of the beast - Revelation 16:2 and 19:20 cite the "mark of the beast". This mark acts as a seal for the followers of Antichrist. A mark of evil; and symbol of opposition to God.
** Blow smoke up someone's ass - is an idiomatic expression that means to try to compliment someone in an insincere way in order to get something from them or get them to do something; to manipulate them.
*** Mercy date - going on a date with somebody simply because you feel sorry for them, not because you really like them, are attracted to them, or want to go out with them.
**** supply - Narcissists seek a constant supply of attention, which is referred to as 'narcissistic supply'. To gain this attention, narcissists will often use a false self that is likable to attract people to them. They tend to target people that they see as vulnerable. Narcissists are extremely insecure people with poor self-esteem. (See the Reading List, below, for more information.)
***** flying monkey - The term 'flying monkey' refers to the people a narcissist manipulates, to believe them, in order to discredit the narcissist's chosen victim, or scapegoat, further isolating their victim from any potential support. The flying monkeys, who can be anyone who is willing to accept this twisted and untruthful view of reality, therefore become the narcissist's enablers, adding insult to injury as the victim is not only the target of being scapegoated by the narcissist, but is now, also not believed, by other people, about this. These flying monkeys could be friends, family, clergy, counselors, landlords, employers or anyone whom the narcissist can convince to believe their version, of the situation, which is always, falsely portrayed in a way intended to be at the expense of the scapegoat victim.
****** scapegoat - a person who is unfairly blamed for something that others have done; someone who is blamed or punished for another's faults or actions. To scapegoat someone means to blame them publicly for something bad that has happened, even though it was not their fault.
******* praying in tongues - praying/speaking in an unknown language, by divine, supernatural, means, which is regarded as one of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 of the Bible.
******** pleading the blood of Jesus - is a way of waging spiritual warfare, by the authority of Christ, as a Christian believer. When you 'plead the blood' you declare the power that Christ has over Satan and his schemes. Jesus gives us authority as believers to take dominion over the forces of hell.
********* Terrible Twos - a period in a child's early social development (typically, around the age of, two years) that is associated with, defiant, or unruly behavior.
Reading List:
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/toxic-relationships/202108/the-concept-narcissistic-supply The Concept Of Narcissistic Supply by Darlene Lancer, JD, LMFT posted August 7, 2021 "Other people are used as objects in order to provide their supply. Freud identified two main paths to fulfilling narcissistic supplies: Aggression and ingratiation. Eventually, he called them sadistic and submissive. To be admired and to get their supply, narcissists employ various strategies, including impression management. They ingratiate themselves using their charm, emotional intelligence, bragging, seduction, and manipulation. Receiving attention and admiration boosts their weak self and lack of self-esteem."
For Reference, regarding demons, and how they affect peoples' lives, here is, an e-book that can be purchased through Amazon.com, Seven Ways Demons Enter A Person And Ten Ways How They Exit, by Ed Citronnelli.
