Tell your story…

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In a few days, I will not be posting as much if at all.

I hung out with Ginger last Saturday which was nice. I’m a homebody so you’ll never get an argument from me to stay home, sip wine and hang out. We had a lot of catching up to do. Two years essentially kept apart by the sociopath. A lot of catching up that phone calls here and there couldn’t do. It was unexpectedly emotional. Tears.

Tears of I missed you. I had shown Ginger a post. As she was reading it, she took a deep breath as though trying to keep it together. I asked what the breath was about. She said “…and the sociopath worked his manipulation…” My heart sank. The conversation got heavy. It needed to, there’s repair required. Renewal. Her words “I could see what was happening. I felt I was losing you. We were losing you. What choice do I make? Do I tell you what I know and see and lose you? Do I choose to say nothing and lose you anyway? But I knew you would stop it and get out. I just didn’t know when. I hate him for what he did.” And then we cried.

And all I could say was “Me too.” And I cried. I sat at the same table in the summer and cried as I listened to a man express is heartbreak and pour tears at what the sociopath had done. Things the sociopath said to him that he knew I would be crushed to learn. And then the sociopath drove the wedge in between us to try to keep the truth from me. I sat as a grown man cried because I allowed the sociopath to win for a while. I cried with him.

I am lucky that I have friends who truly know me. Who could see that it was not me but him. They did not walk away. Some did but they were not real friends. My true friends knew I was not living my truth but living under the control of someone else. They knew I would come to my senses but it did not lessen the heartache there was in watching it. In losing time together.

Love should not hurt or isolate. If someone truly loves you, they will want to see you happy and spending time with other loved ones. They will want to see a smile on your face because it means your heart is happy. And your heart should matter not be manipulated.

Time does not wait for us. Time lost is time lost. Take back your time today and surround yourself with the people you love and trust. Get back to loving yourself  and the right person will appear and love you as you should be loved. Completely and unconditionally. They will make time for you and in some beautiful moments they will make time feel as though it is standing still. xo

Muah 💋

Second chances…

I do not wish to be in the midst of either destruction or distraction…

imageA photograph or two and a quote can sure bring clarity. Clarity is good.

Clarity….

I am grateful for second chances wherever it may lead…

At the time I met the Sociopath, I had been talking with a sweet, smart and funny man. We were to meet officially on his birthday at DQ. Instead, the Sociopath worked his manipulation and I cancelled that date. Two plus years ago. That cancellation was always on my mind especially as things worsened with the Sociopath and well it was just simply rude. I would tell my friends “I blew off a really nice guy on his birthday for this! On his freaking birthday!” This being the socio.

Going on POF again after the Sociopath was an extremely terrifying thing to do.

On there for a couple of weeks and then getting ready to delete my profile because well, it wasn’t what I needed or where I wanted to be…there he appeared.

I saw a familiar face had viewed my profile…. I recognized the user name. I reached out, certain I would be told politely to take a hike which I would have understood, even deserved really. It’s probably what I would have done to be honest.

But that’s not what happened…

And so I have been giving kudos and shout outs to people who have touched me. Some over a lifetime, some over several years, some I have only just met.

I want to say thank you here, to you, Chris. Thank you for bringing laughter back in to my life in a way I have not known it for a long time. Real laughter. Tears down my face laughter. It’s awesome. Walmart milk shenanigans, I still see you half way in the fridge dealing with “buddy” so I could get my 1% milk. Me as a ‘homeless’ girl going to pick up her race kit October 24 and laughing her ass off in the car to jokes about my appearance coming over bluetooth. Chai lattés…lmao!

Thank you for reading this nutso blog and being understanding. For reading this blog and not simply assuming I am some broken, mad woman. For reading about out to lunch koi fish references and persevering.

Thank you for seeing me as a human being with a story, a story that doesn’t define who I am but is just a part of my journey.

Thank you for embracing my thought bubbles and helping me pop them when needed.

Thank you for being patient and considerate.

I’m glad I did not miss this year’s birthday 😉

You are smart. You are funny. You are a good human.

Thank you for being you and letting me be me.  😊

I know you enjoy my nerd speak immensely, so this is for you…

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hank you Maj. XO

/p><<<<< t;<<<< gt;<<< ><< p>< /p>

“Martyr Saint…”

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“Thank you once again for being the martyr Saint.”  Everyone tells me not to give these words another thought given their source. Don’t let him get in there.  So, this is where we are at after 8 years of divorce? Name calling and anger. A distorted reality.

Saint? Maybe.  Martyr? Inaccurate. This term is the most insulting.  This one is hardest to shake. Exaggerating circumstance to play victim and get sympathy. I am not a victim. I do not walk around this world crying the blues and asking people to pity me. I do not walk around announcing to the people I meet, I’m a single parent, feel sorry for me. Do not feel sorry for me! I do not feel sorry for me.  Sometimes I feel lonely.  Sometimes I feel angry that I do this all alone. But I do not pity myself, I am not a victim, and never want to be treated like one! Ever! That will not go over well with me.

Have I had to muster a lot of strength to deal with my ex-husband with class and grace? Yes, the energy it has taken to protect my children from the truth and to ensure they did not hate their new stepmom, because they wanted to, has been exhausting.  That is just a fact.  Please don’t feel sorry for me, I’m not asking you to.  I don’t want to live in sadness and anger. I consciously choose not to.  Do I visit sadness and anger? Occasionally, but not for long.  I need to. I’m human.  Everyone needs to connect with their emotions, reflect on circumstance, so that they can move past it. Face it and conquer it.

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Three Superman shirts, I own them. I’ve earned them! No apologies…

Am I going to downplay being a single parent? No!!!  It’s a tough gig!!!!! To deny that it can be a struggle would be a lie.  I am not a liar. It is wrought with worry and insecurity.  Fear of failure. Fear that it will have long term impact on the well-being of my children. The cure for this? Love. Dancing in the kitchen together.  Singing at the top of our lungs. Hugs and kindness. Friends and family who love us and support us.

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Anyone who knows me, knows I like to fly under the radar and only when I need to release stress, will I vent out the facts and feelings surrounding a situation. I need to, to survive.  I asked to create this blog so that I can tell parts of my story and maybe in doing so, something will resonate with someone else and it will help them. Reality? There’s probably a handful of people reading this. People I have told about it. People who already know. I am not looking for attention and I certainly don’t need anyone’s pity.  I have not and will not exaggerate anything here.  I will state the facts and my feelings.  People who are not ‘feelings’ people won’t get it. That’s okay, it’s not for you.

So, where is this coming from?  My ex-husband and I are revisiting our parenting agreement. He feels that his budget is tight due to significant child support payments.  Key word “budget”.  Change your budget because your children aren’t going anywhere!  My ‘sacrifice’ in our divorce has been my time and his, his bank account.  This is a constant source of friction. Him complaining about paying. I don’t set the amounts.  Call a lawyer, figure out what the payments should be. For eight years, I have made this statement.

Eight years later, it is still an issue and now that I have busted my hump doing all of the hard work and the kids are essentially self-sufficient, my ex wants to have joint custody. Why? Budget, finances, a desire to cut costs… Most weekends my children do not want to go there.  They say he is angry and yells and boots them outside for hours on end while he sits inside.  They wander around the ghetto of Ottawa, killing time.  My ex has taken to bashing me in their presence and his wife has too. The bashing is usually financially motivated. After all of the damage control I have done. Playing the devil’s advocate. Being the peacekeeper. Shielding. I find myself thrown under the bus. I can’t accept it anymore.  This day could not be avoided. My ex-husband is selfish, angry and verbally abusive.  He says sorry but then repeats bad behaviour. That’s what abusers do. The kids were going to figure out who he is, how he is, sooner or later.  I hoped they wouldn’t. I hoped he’d change.  It’s not to be. Change is not to come and now I have to stand up and do what is necessary for my babies. I’m not being a martyr!!  I am being a mother.

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At the time of my divorce, I used to think “Who will want me? Who will want us? This life. How will I do this? Who will ever sign on for this?”  Abused and alone, trying to survive the devastation of a life’s plan blown to pieces… I used to believe that a man would be the solution, a partner and this lead me to bring some undeserving people into our lives. I am not a perfect parent, I have made mistakes big and small.  My children have always known love, we have survived many things because we are a family.  I am strong and from my strength they gain strength.  Have they seen me crumble? Be sad? Yes, they have.  I used to think that was weakness and it was unpleasant for them, shocking even.  They saw tears but they saw me rise out of it. We’ve talked about being human and we’ve acted as family do. Hugging and loving each other through challenging times.  Unfortunately and fortunately, they have seen that you do not take someone’s abuse.  You do not stay in unhealthy relationships.  You push your way through and come through the fire, smiling and with love in your heart. My children have said they wish I could have my happy ending because of the bozos we have known here. The temporary heartbreak.  I don’t need a man to be happy.  My children are my happy ending.  They are the reason I get up in the morning, they are the reason I survive, they are where I find my strength. They are Love.

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Am I tired?  Yes, so tired.  I feel weak. Do I need a night off sometimes? Yes.  Some women do not get that.  Some women never get that.  I am fortunate. My circumstance actually calls for gratitude because it could be so much worse. We are blessed. We will be okay.

I haven’t always been strong.  I have gone to the ‘darkside’,. I have wanted to check out. In the first year of my divorce, feeling like a failure, I threw myself into my work, I worked out like a beast and I drank like a fish on my kidless weekends. There’s nothing to be found in a bottle but it’s bottom. A metaphor for life.  I wont settle for bottom. My children deserve more.

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I’m not sure I have the fight in me to deal with the custody battle that looms but that is what the lawyer is for.  I’m handing the load to someone else, finally. It has been hard to tell our story to the lawyer. To relive it, revisit the emotions. To keep the anger in check because if I lose it, we all lose here. So hard.  Yesterday, I opened the email from my lawyer. She summarized my concerns so succinctly in a draft letter and it reads so blunt. The truth. The hard truth, like a punch to the gut.  There is worry about his reaction. Will he take it out on the kids? He already is.  October 24, he took it out on them verbally.  They don’t want to go there, I don’t want them to go either.  ENOUGH!!

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I always wanted to be a mom.  I never saw it playing out this way.  I never knew love like this until I held my children in my arms.  My son is my first experience with love at first sight.  I have never had my heart fill like that. Pure love.  Who knew that your “heart could walk outside of your body”. All I want is for them all to know love and their worth. I thought they needed their father in their lives; a man.  A man does not abuse his children.  He does not bash the mother of his children.  That is not a man.

I can do both. I have been the one to tie a tie, Youtube, yay! I have been the one to toss the baseball and show my son that I can hit the ball well, to his surprise. Taught him how to swing a bat.  I have taught them how to swim, how to catch frogs.  I have sparred in my living room with my son. I have shown them strength and love. I hope my son is learning how to be a man. A real man.  Sometimes we learn what to do by seeing what should not be done.  Concept attainment – Barry Bennett

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I woke up to this in my Twitter mail…

OMG marry me Dwayne! God this man makes me melt ;)
OMG marry me Dwayne! God this man makes me melt 😉

I’ll find the strength, I always do. I’m a survivor! Not a victim and not a martyr.  Go ahead, try me!!

Always alright,

Muah xoxoxo

Good grief


I spent last weekend immersed in movies and retail therapy.

Southpaw which was emotional and made me want to strap on my boxing gloves and pound the heck out of something. It has my son wanting to join a boxing club. Who’s inspired this, the movie and his mother!!!! Sorry, I’m being a “martyr Saint”.

Inside Out. Great movie! I laughed out loud a lot. I loved Disgust she cracked me up. My mom says “Hey it’s Abbie!” That went over well. Payton was Joy. I would Fear right now. Bottom line, true joy cannot exist in the absence of sadness. They both need to exist in balance. Good movie, will watch again. 🙂

Love Story with Ryan Oneill and Ali McGraw.  It’s sweet and tragic. My son comes in part way when Oliver and Jenny meet at the door as he returns from receiving the news. She asks Oliver what he sees and he says “I see you”. I’m like awww and then in chimes my son “Oh my God, what are they even talking about!?!? This movie is so stupid! It makes no sense” Then comes the scene where she is watching him skate, she is soaking him in, taking it all in knowing as the soul does what is coming. My son is like who does that? This is lame. I said some day you’ll be in love and stupid too. You’ll watch her eat her fries and think it is one of the great wonders of the world. He is like “No, I won’t. That’s so dumb”  Ah man did I laugh.

Off to The Peanuts Movie… What it’s a love story too with Charlie Brown working through insecurities… Oh my… Sigh.

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I have a conversation with a friend about another friend who is going through a tough time with their spouse being angry and abusive. It brings back feelings and memories of dark times and heartache here. It follows me like a little dark cloud. Alters my mood a bit as I go to spend time with someone and they can sense it. I shrug it off.

It’s never easy to leave someone and when they’ve broken your spirit you have to dig so deep to find that one ember of courage to ignite the decision to end it. To choose yourself and your journey. To choose happiness and peace.

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Sending the women in my life strength and courage…. xo

 

Simplify


The post below is what I intended to post  last Thursday evening or Friday morning, things changed and it didn’t get finished.

Ok, so who was I kidding? Me, a calm mind??? Lets all pause to laugh for a moment….

If there were an award for analysis paralysis, I would be a top contender. Not really something that makes me burst with pride. Sometimes, I think it would be so much easier to have a simple mind, to be ignorant, to care less…. I would just be happy all the time because I wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t question. I would simply exist in simplicity.

Oversimplification…

….a sociopath thing and basic jerk thing. I can’t remember what prompted this in the car on the way to work. Something on the radio but it escapes me. I do, however, know the “train of thought” it provoked though…

I think people oversimplify significant life experiences for two reasons:

1. Deceit. They are knowingly hiding facts or omitting pieces of the puzzle about themselves that if you knew, would lead you in another direction. They are lying, covering things up, minimizing a situation avoiding accountability. Sweeping it under the rug. Oversimplifying… These people need a good shaking. They need someone to call their bs out! This was the way of the sociopath.

“I don’t know why we broke up, it came out of the blue.” “She’s simply crazy!” “I have a restraining order but it was a misunderstanding because she is bitter.” “I don’t know why….”

2. Fear. They would rather avoid telling it like it is because they fear connecting with the reality of life events; facts or how it actually is. They fear judgement. They fear what “appears to be weakness”. These are the “I’m fine.” “No big deal” “All good” “I’m okay” when the reality is they are not fine, they are not okay and it is not all good. They are not bad people. They are simply trying to survive, right now. They need someone to take them by the hand and say let it out lovey, I will not judge, I get it. Here’s my shoulder lean on it, that’s what it’s for…. ****Ironically this would apply to the Thursday night emergency.

A person of simple mind and heart would take these things at face value but the intuitve and caring mind and heart will simply not let it rest …

Yep, I’m a weirdo, this is the stuff I think about during my morning commute. This is part of why I am always so tired…. I think like this and then I see a Dodge Charger and then I think why am I driving this Nissan and not that machine? I visualize the Charger with a hemi in gun metal with killer wheels and then I go to lalaland a bit. Guys at work were recently talking about how in Vegas you can take fast cars out for a drive. I day dream about this a bit and then I get to work. Thought bubbles, that’s how I roll…

Idealization and Glorification

The way of the dreamer. Guilty! I have been a dreamer from birth. My parents were informed of this by my grade 1 teacher, who was no stranger to smacking a meterstick down on my desk to bring me back to Earth. I was also excruciatingly shy – these actions were a bit traumatic. She is always “dans la lune”; daydreaming. I am a dreamer, you’ll get no apology from me on that. It does; however, complicate my life at times because it makes things unecessarily hard or difficult to let go of.

I have been in a state of torment in two aspects of my life lately. My career is the first. I have spent 18 months going to an organization that on a Hollywood level has a sense of glamour and adventure. I have entered the building for this organization and been swept away. I allowed myself to dream, I placed the organization on a pedestal and glorified it to the highest degree. It’s all I wanted and they picked me. They said “We want you, sign here.” And I panicked. I questioned. I freaked out because another department turned around and said the same thing. What do I do, choose the dream or choose the true fit, the right fit, the “sure thing”? It’s about want and need again. I need a place that I know will allow me to see myself again, that will allow me to grow. A place that is safe and full of like minded people. When we glorify something, we will surely be let down. We make it difficult to see the beauty in other things because it has been so idealized we feel nothing can compare. My worth will not be rediscovered in the ideal, it will be found in collaborating with like minded people, creativity, opportunities to grow and in the support of people who see what I have to offer them within an hour of speaking with me when I don’t yet see it myself. That’s what I need.

I had glorified this other job opportunity to such a high level that this morning I actually felt like we were “breaking up”. A wise person has convinced me to take pride in the fact that under such scrutiny and high standards they did choose me but just because they chose me, doesn’t mean I need to choose them. It is not what I need and after everything I have been through the last couple of years, I would not survive the let down… I simply would not… The journey not the destination, right?

The other aspect of my life… That’s for another day… I’m just trying to stay grounded and take it day by day… Time will give me what I need there… Timing…

imageGlamourization…

I don’t know what was going to go here.

Decisions…

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“Morning K”

I sit and wait for a macro to run at work… And in comes an email on the bottom right corner of my screen… Mike a, subject: Trailer… My heart pounds as I have known it to pound the last couple of weeks and I feel sick… Fear… Why do I have to deal with this today? Why do I have to deal with this at all????

Same feeling I had Sunday morning when I finally checked voicemails  and heard “This is detective C from the Ottawa Police Service calling in regards to a report you filed…” Yeah 2 months ago! Then there are two subsequent messages where the officer gets pissy and tells me the file will be closed… Great, close the file! I’m sick of thinking about it. I’m sick of dealing in the reality that this psycho gets to walk among us. Close the file! Throw it away!  Burn it!  Remove it from my mind! Take that rotting piece of my heart while you’re there, amputate it so I never have to revisit it! Please take it from me, you can’t do anything about it but can you at least do that!?!? Take it from me and file it away under lock and key… Ugh.

It’s amazing the things your insides do when emotions run high, when Fear steps under the lamp post uninvited and lingers…

I open the email as Fear stands behind me, with its hand on my shoulder…

“Morning K…” Some blah blah blah about the trailer. Meh, just keep paying…I can’t deal. I don’t even care what it says! All I can see is the greeting… Who the f@%# does this lunatic think he is?

You don’t get to call me K, KK, special K, Miss K, angel, babe, princess… None of it! Only people I love and who truly love me can use such references, although there are some I can never hear again…

Just write the email, skip the greeting where you act like everything is normal. Where you act like nothing happened. Quit screwing with me!

And then I realize I am letting him. I am choosing this reaction. So, I remove Fear’s hand, finger by finger and send it on its way. My insides settle and I simply reply:  “K. Thanks.”

I am restless, in a state of flux, waiting, impatiently waiting for answers from here and beyond. I am feeling coo coo bananas.

Perhaps this ECA stack thing should be shelved until there’s some balance again…

I hate this restlessness…. It is not me…

The purge is good though.

I sit here and engage in conversations about my hair, it’s curly today, au naturel,  German names, horoscopes and no one is the wiser…. Life is bizarre some days!!!! Just bizarre – the masks we wear…

Let’s Meme it out… Get nerdy with me 😉

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Always alright,

Muah 💋

 

 

 

 

Rumi and Chocolate

I am weak!! I have no willpower. There is chocolate everywhere at work. What’s a girl to do? It’s torture…

Morning workout was completed. 21 Day Fix Cardio my PIYO DVDs seem to have disappeared…

I woke up to a 5:30am text saying “50 squats done Miss K!” which launched my butt out of bed quick! I still have 50 to do! Should have pounded them out this morning…

Last night’s episode of the Walking Dead was about inner peace in the worst of circumstances. Aikido… ” How best to exist in a world stripped of its artifice? What do human beings owe one another?”  The book ‘The Art of Peace’. Appreciation of life and redirection of chaos/evil. Avoiding one’s undoing and connecting… This is my favourite show! It reminds me a bit of the koi legend – the dragon to emerge being the survival of humanity.

Given there wasn’t a whole lot of action, I searched up Rumi quotes on Pinterest and exchanged dream home tales via text.

I’m officially obsessed with Rumi quotes. I’m enjoying tapping back in to my word nerd again. I remember I used to be criticized for my use of big words in my marriage. Put down for it – misunderstood- literally.

So here’s a bit of Rumi that spoke to me yesterday…

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Sunday morning :)

Okay Miss T! This blog is for you. Miss Resolution Run (10k), Miss lets do Spartan, foam fest, mud hero, Tamarack 10… You realize I am your elder!!!

Lets do this!!

Shout out to Mel first. Mel you have been an inspiration this week. That Monday evening text that you were waiting at the running room to run in cold and gusting winds…the poopy pants blog on your mind lol…your nerves as you waited for the run to start…I totally get that… I was so impressed! That’s what it’s about! Showing up for yourself even when the conditions are less than favourable. Making yourself a priority! I told my kids about it,  ‘while we sit here there’s someone I know out there – running!’ Then I got the text:

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I was so excited for you! Most of us were on the couch under a blanket while you were out there. Then comes the Wednesday text with run number two completed…awesome sauce!!

Tomorrow, November 2…is about showing up for ourselves. Setting goals and accomplishing them with our own personal cheerleaders.

I am setting the damn alarm and showing up. I’m eliminating thought bubbles in the shape of muffin tops- the self-abuse I endure when I see myself naked, in the mirror. No more!!! Bulge be gone! Sore back be gone!

I will be wearing this, on a beach in the next 3 months. I bought it one year ago, the tags are still on it!!! Those tags are coming off!

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So miss T. I am going to workout every morning of the week and run 4 times a week. I am starting with PIYO and will mix it up with my other beachbody.com video addictions. I’m going to put this stupid bikini on and take a before picture which I will only post here when I see results! Gulp. Your 7 and my 15 are going down!!

I say we also incorporate the 30 day squat challenge as well. Seeing as well worked muscle burns calories!!

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Add some songs like these to your play list T:

TPAin Booty Wurk

JLO Booty!!

Off to plan my menu and get some GNC Lean Shakes for the week! No more slacking!

Our mantra: “Chocolate is not your friend, chocolate is not your friend…” Repeat!

Check out the tushy in this video.. Swoon!  Play it again!!! Cutie petude!

 

 

Life with a sociopath continued


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Is it because it’s Halloween? People soon masquerading as things they are not. Is it the moon? Is it the email that sat in my inbox at work yesterday? The email was nothing,  just blah blah blah about the trailer. Stalling… It’s seeing the name and the thick swallow that comes before opening the email.

I do know I set out to have some of this blog be about my life with a sociopath-narcissist. So this is a continuation of the blog post living with a sociopath…. Deep breath.

When you hear the word sociopath, you likely think of criminal behaviour…things the movies or crime shows tell us a sociopath might be. Scary, violent, serial killers…good people like myself would think based on Hollywood portrayals that a sociopath only exists in the movies and that encountering one would be rare. But this is not the case.

1 in 25 people is a sociopath and they are not typically serial killers as we know them from the silver screen. They are soul killers. They gleefully and without remorse tap in to your soul and set out to extinguish it’s light.

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When Maya and I spoke, she was convinced our sociopath was a pure narcissist but my instincts were sociopath. It turns out we are both right. He is both and he is evil. Ever looked a devil in the eye?

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So My relationship with the sociopath was on fast forward. He said and did, literally, the same things to me, Maya, Téanna. I’m sure if Téanna had have given him the engagement ring back, I would have been the third woman to sport it. Unlike the average person who might feel guilty doing such a thing, the sociopath would have gotten some sort of sick high out of it and in his psychosis wouldn’t have had a problem bringing me to mom and dad and having me show off a ring they’d already seen on the hands of the previous two women.

Meeting his family

That leads me to meeting his family. December 24, 2013. I was going to meet the family. It was Christmas, I was going to experience my first Christmas morning without my babies and I’m meeting this guy’s family for the first time. I’ve been waiting for it all day. He picks me up from work and starts telling me he doesn’t want to go, he fought with his mother and told her he wouldn’t be there. Chaos…drama…just the start of it. Who fights with their mom on Christmas Eve??? He told me he was close with his family and friends, especially his mother (Mirroring societal norms and mirroring what he knew I would want; a family oriented man). So how does someone close to their family, fight with their mom on Christmas Eve? They are a sociopath and they’ve lied to you. I made him get on the phone and call his mom, apologize and tell her we are going to be there. I adore Christmas and being with my family.

Red flag hello!?!? I did not like this. So we get ready to go and he is going in to work in the middle of the night. Yep knowing what I know now – he left me all alone to be with another woman on Christmas morning.

As we get ready, he says to me “We will not talk about me working overtime. We’re going to go for like an hour and then leave.” I am bewildered. Why are we lying about this? He claimed his uncle would get seriously annoying about it, calling him money bags and going on about the overtime. He didn’t want to deal with that. And so why do we tell them we’re leaving early? Then just before we leave he tells me his brother is crazy, that he tends to fly off the handle and say crazy things. He’s aggressive… Oh my God, at this point I was freaking out. What am I walking in to?

Hindsight:

  1. His dad was a big deal in the department of the City the sociopath worked for. His dad would have known there was no overtime or at least blown his lie up. Nothing to do with the uncle.
  2. The brother needed to be this crazy person to be feared because of the text. The text in which the sociopath pretended to be his brother. If the brother is crazy, then I am less likely to believe what he says. His brother is likely the only one in the family that does not enable his psychosis.

I was so stressed walking in to that place. We walk in and the room falls silent, the young people in the room (our age-ish) are looking at me like they’ve seen a ghost. Well, I’m the third woman within 3 years to come to Christmas. Vomit. Nobody says a word to us until we hit the kitchen. His aunt and uncle are welcoming. His parents too. His dad especially. I get introduced around the room and no one says anything. It is so messed up. The sociopath proceeds to put his head on his mom’s shoulder and starts sobbing. Wtf?

I, being compassionate and good, attribute it to the fact that the brother is bouncing his baby boy on his knee and the sociopath did not have his son. I convinced Téanna to bring the child on Boxing Day for an hour but she’d have none of Christmas Eve which makes sense now. In my mind he is crying for his son. Being me ,I step to the kitchen trying not to cry myself, to give his aunt the cheese ball I brought. Here I get a bottomless glass of wine for which I will take my first round of abuse on the way home.

Everyone was nice, they seemed normal. The only person that didn’t fit was the sociopath. People made some conversation with him but it was forced.

The uncle keeps pouring me wine. The sociopath tells me that’s the last glass we need to leave. We eat and the family is going to play euchre. I love euchre!! I wanted to play. The brother is friendly, offering me fudge. The sociopath says we are going home and I will not be playing euchre. No one gets why we have to leave. We can’t tell them about the overtime…. The sociopath is getting agitated, restless, he wants to leave. He has somewhere to be. I chug back my last bit of wine and we head out.

In the jeep, he unleashes on me. “I told you I wanted to leave by 11pm. You agreed. Instead, you keep drinking and then make me look like an asshole because we have to leave and you want to play euchre.”  How is this my fault? His uncle kept pouring the wine. No one understands why we are leaving. We can’t talk about the overtime. It’s my first time there. It’s Christmas for goodness sake!!! This tongue lashing goes on and on until we get home. 45 minutes of it!!! Even going to sleep. I went to sleep on Christmas Eve like that, no babies to wake up to and believing I was some insensitive woman given he had to get up in the wee hours and go to “work”.

I’ve had three deaths of family members at Christmas: my paternal grandfather, my aunt, and my mother-in-law. This Christmas was worse than those. At least in the loss there was love. This was abuse but he had me convinced I was insensitive. Me? What a farce, looking back.

The Red Flags

This would not be the last of it. It would exist in our daily lives. This chaos and abuse. It would come out of nowhere. It would lead to threats of abandonment. When questioned he would lie or deflect things making me the bad guy for questioning him. It would include character assassination.

He would take opportunities like talking about his first girlfriend to tear me down, hit my weak spots. I have stretch marks from babies. They started with my son because I gained too much weight too fast with him. They became worse having had 14+ pounds of baby in my belly with the twins. I am extremely self conscious about it. It impacts my self-esteem greatly. In talking about his exgirlfriend, he threw in she was super skinny, a runner and never wanted to have children because she didn’t want to ruin her body. He did things like this…under the radar, less overt than a lot of his abuse. Going for the Achilles…

I wish I could post his picture. This God’s gift looking down on everyone.

He’d pick me apart as a mother. Pick my kids apart. Go on about how he was sure they were better than this at their dad’s. This guy was a douchebag, they knew it and they were unhappy. I remember him going on about how he couldn’t live here, in this town home, the kids weren’t following his rules for the chocolate lab, I was not supporting his authoritarian dictatorship in the home. He ranted and ranted at me. I finally lost it, I came upstairs locked myself in the washroom and called Kim. I was breaking… It felt like a nervous breakdown… She had to talk me down – I had never made a call like that to her. Broken, hysterical and crying – we’ve known eachother 40 years. Even as angry as my ex husband was and as nasty as sleeping as the enemy could be, I never made a broken phone call like that. I’m the strong girl, who cries tears of compassion but typically keeps her shit together. Kim “You can’t go on like this. You’re an amazing mom. This has to be his last chance.” He was knocking on the bathroom door. I told him I was on the phone. This made him extra agitated. One he didn’t want to look bad because he is superficial and two if I start involving other people he loses control. His ability to completely extinguish my soul will be blocked. Damn right asshole!

This behaviour would be followed by fake apologies. The learning curve claim. I’m the most amazing person he’s met. He hadn’t known love until me. In speaking with Téanna, he made the same pleas to her…verbatim. I can’t explain that feeling. The abuse was bad enough. Knowing that he said the same things to her, to Maya…the loving things, the compliments, the good things you think only your soul owns. It wasn’t reserved for me and ultimately it was just a tactic. A calculated move.

June 2014. One of the worst moments for me, although they were all horrid, happened on his birthday. The Friday before, he worked “overtime”. The girls and I decorated the house, Abbie made a cake. I made a beer bottle cake I saw on Pinterest. The dining room table was taken up with gift bags. He was walking in to an undeniable celebration of him. We were excited. Saturday night we were going to go on a date and my son would watch the girls. He was acting a little strange. A lot of smoke breaks… Oh well. I got ready. I have a lot of hair so it took me over an hour. I put on a lace top, over which a jean jacket was going, black pants, and black boots with a low heel. I came downstairs and the girls were like “Oooh mommy, you look so pretty!”. Not the sociopath, he says “Can we talk upstairs?” . He proceeds to tell me he’s not going anywhere with me looking like this. I look like a slut and just want attention from other guys. A slut? I may have amped up the sexy a bit but a slut? No way. He says we’re not going out. All that effort for nothing. I wanted to look good for him! I wanted him to be proud. I wanted him to have a peacock moment like “That’s right boys, take a good look but I’m taking this cutie home.” It was insane. It went on and on. Pure insanity. I changed my top. Black Gap tshirt right up to the neck.

We got in the car at one point and then he decided he wasn’t hungry. We stopped in Sobeys parking lot where he proceeded to tell me he couldn’t be with someone who needed this kind of attention, who acted this way and matter of fact he’s not sure he even loves me! The devastation of those words. I don’t even know if I really love you!!! I’ve had two relationships previous and even in the worst of times it is not something that was ever said by either side.

I told him he could leave. I didn’t need this in my life. I spent my entire Friday night running around in storms, to get cake mixes, beer bottles and decorating my home for him. I’ve never had anyone speak to me like this. Complain that I look good and tell me they do not love me. Abuse. I’m not sure what he expected. I’m not sure if he had plans with someone else. I’m not sure if it was just sick fun. He backtracked of course because I was serious. Take the door and get out. He manipulated and managed to stay but things were just not going to sit right with me from this point on. I felt trapped we had signed on for the trailer and 4 wheelers and I was breaking, weak, tired and I let him stay. Ten more months. Ten more months of abuse, isolation from my friends, isolation from my parents.

He used my line of credit as Monopoly money for Kijiji deals. Felt entitled to my money. I should cover his debts and we would work as a team to pay it off.

Team work was his mantra. We’re a team babe.  Maya says this is her fault because in the end that’s how she convinced him to action stuff. Teamwork and joint bank accounts. He is a sociopath and he will develop his skills in order to succeed.

I read this crap I am writing and I can’t believe it. That is only a snapshot. A handful of examples. I’m a smart lady. I have two degrees. The other women are university educated as well. It’s something we ask ourselves “How could we be so stupid?”

Mirroring….

This:

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Then there were lots of tantrums, fake crying to manipulate. Statements like call my mom or call my dad when he was backed into a corner. Weird!!!  Téanna and I laughed over that one. Such an absurd statement. It was nice she and I could find laughter in this insanity. Both being broken, her more broken than me. She lives in a constant place of fear because they have a child. There is no closure for her ever.

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Tantrums of I’m leaving or going upstairs to mope. Texting me to come upstairs and then ranting at me over the fact there was no place on the couch for him or something stupid. The girls were likely snuggled in and getting my attention. He couldn’t lie his head on me for me to rub his head for the 50 millionth time or rub his lazy ass feet!

His ego…

He thought he was God’s gift. His mom told him he was. He has a weird thing with his mom. My mom says only I can pull of a pink shirt, my mom would say these pants are my style.

He loved the mirror. Every time he got off the couch he would check himself out and flex his non existent biceps with his lame tribal tattoo.  If we were out, he’d flex his bicep, looking at it when he’d put his elbows on the table. He would flex it when he got up to walk to the washroom. He was obsessed with himself, what’d he need me for??

I’m horrible at ego stroking. Im not the girl who’s gonna be like look at my big strong man carrying this or that. Unless it’s really noteworthy. Oh you cleared out the dishwasher. Great, thank you. Wait a minute don’t you live here too? Do I get an award when I wash your shit stained underwear?? Get over yourself. Unless we’ve done something monumental or pulled off a really chaotic day, you won’t get any achievement certificates from me from simply pulling your weight.  But he needed that desperately. “Bet no ones helped you like this before, right?” “You’ve never had anyone like this in your life right” Nope, never had anyone quite like you. The selfishness and empty promises, yep been there.

Then the question every woman loves “Am I the best lover you’ve had?” Yes, yes dear. Reality: Worst ever! Horrible lover. You can’t be selfish and be a good lover. Lazy… worst ever!!! Téanna and I had a chuckle over this too. Seriously, what were we thinking. He was ignorant, ill mannered and there was no mind blowing sex to cloud things. We had a good chuckle on that one.

He had constant questions/statements like this. Aren’t I the best because…

The day he came to get the rest of his stuff, Carly was here.  He had to go to the jeep to get a pen. We watched him as he checked himself out in the window before opening the door. I was like see! See how much he loves himself. Even in this moment he is checking himself out. Then he needs a hose and mount from downstairs. Out comes the bicep check and Carly is like Huh??? Sigh..  It is just sickening. Again, I wish I could post a picture so you can see…see the delusion!

Even in the ego existed insecurity and the shadiness. A weak handshake and no eye contact. All very bad signs. Everyone in my life hates the no eye contact. The initial first impressions were that he was a bad dude but I didn’t see it yet because I was being groomed…

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Koi fish legend/meaning…

I have not remembered a single dream in I don’t know how long.. Not a single one… A few blogs ago I wrote about a vivid dream I had.

In it was a man, a man who in this reality suffers, silently yet publicly… A man I did not expect to see there. Completely unexpected. The man was happy, smiling as I have seen in photographs and briefly in person…

Everyone in the dream was genuinely happy…

And then I step into an area with a pond with the most beautiful fish, my mind recognizes them as koi fish. For the record, I know nothing about koi fish at the time they appear in this dream. Someone I know had them tattooed on the tops of their feet and that is the extent of my exposure to koi.

The man steps into the same area and stands at a distance, smiling. Without words we acknowledge the magnificence of the fish. It was a beautiful moment.

I haven’t had these “spiritual” experiences since my Sylvia Browne immersion in my twenties.

So, why am I dreaming about koi? What does this all mean. I get why the man appears, it makes sense at this moment but why koi?

Well, here’s what Google has to say… Make of it what you will. I read it and was like “No freaking way!”. Makes sense to me…

So here is the legend of the koi fish as found at  http://koistory.com/blog/koi-fish-meaning-and-myth.

Koi are a legendary fish. Graceful, vibrant, and one of the most recognizable fish in the world, koi are well-loved and respected. Often associated with Japan, koi actually originated from Central Asia in China. They were introduced to Japan by Chinese invaders. The koi got their name around 500 B.C, but the fish itself has been around for much longer. Fossils of ancient koi date back 20 million years. Natural genetic mutation brought about the brilliant colors in koi known today, and in the early 1800s Japanese farmers began keeping them for aesthetics. Over the years, koi fish meaning and symbolism has become iconic around the world.

THE LEGEND

One particular legend is the koi fish’s claim to fame. An ancient tale tells of a huge school of golden koi swimming upstream the Yellow River in China. Gaining strength by fighting against the current, the school glimmered as they swam together through the river. When they reached a waterfall at the end of the river, many of the koi turned back, letting the flow of the river carry them away.

The remaining koi refused to give up. Leaping from the depths of the river, they attempted to reach the top of the waterfall to no avail. Their efforts caught the attention of local demons, who mocked their efforts and heightened the waterfall out of malice. After a hundred years of jumping, one koi finally reached the top of the waterfall. The gods recognized the koi for its perseverance and determination and turned it into a golden dragon, the image of power and strength.

Impressed yet? I am!!! Holy moly!!!

Given my journey thus far and the man’s most tragic journey this legend is blowing my mind.

It begs the question, who gets to be the dragon? Or will we each emerge the dragon of our own independent, unrelenting  journeys up the waterfall?  Who knows?

Koi Fish Meaning and Symbolism

Koi fish are associated with positive imagery. Because of the dragon legend, they are known as symbols of strength and perseverance, as seen in their determinative struggle upstream. And because of the lone koi that made it to the top of the waterfall, they are also known as symbols of a destiny fulfilled. Resulting from its bravery in swimming upstream, the koi is oftentimes associated with Samurai Warriors in Japan. The integrity and high sense of character koi are known for makes them a popular tattoo choice both in Asia as well as America.

And there it is… Now the koi make sense. I’m comforted by this legend…

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The koi in my dream were vibrantly red and white like these guys. However, they were more square and about three times the size of these… They also had raised silver markings.

Amazing!

That’s not the end…

So what is the symbolism behind silver according to colour psychology? This is is it according to http://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-silver.html

The color silver has a feminine energy; it is related to the moon and the ebb and flow of the tides – it is fluid, emotional, sensitive and mysterious. It is soothing, calming and purifying.

From a color psychology viewpoint, it signals a time of reflection and a change of direction as it illuminates the way forward. It helps with the cleansing and releasing of mental, physical and emotional issues and blockages as it opens new doors and lights the way to the future.

With its reflective and sensitive qualities silver inspires intuition, clairvoyance and mental telepathy. It reflects back any energy given out, whether it is positive or negative.

Silver restores equilibrium and stability to both feminine power and spiritual energy. It protects itself from outside negativity, reflecting the energy back to where it began.

This color is very versatile, being shiny, modern and hi-tech on one hand and alluring, sparkling and elegant on the other.

From a color psychology perspective, silver is respectable and courteous, dignified, self-controlled, responsible, patient, determined and organized – it relates well to the corporate world and those in positions of responsibility, whether they are male or female.

In color psychology, with a balance between black and white, silver is seen as a good critic, unbiased and compassionate with a mature sense of justice.

Mystery solved. I’m satisfied….

Muah 💋