Hi NoOne,

First I would like to say that I am sorry for all of the pain and heartache you have endured. You must be very strong to have made it so far. I admire that you have made the best out of an impossible situation. The possibilities for a positive outcome when the other party is a psychopath are very limited and the frustration from this can be overwhelming. Regaining your strength and reclaiming your life is what is important right now.

Isn't it amazing how many shocking stories float around in our minds? I like the way you express yourself by writing whatever "episode" is at the front of your thoughts.

Personally, I have so many strange incidents that to write them in a linear fashion would take a year.

Be well

Thanks, Trudy, for your nice words. Yes, I wonder myself how lucky I am that I got out of it. It could only had been good karma. As soon as I got away from her low energies I got my life back together. But, I paid a very high price because now I have to live with the guilt of having left my kids with a psychopath. For years she controlled my life with the threat (there were hundreds of other threats, of course) of taking the kids away from me. And, then she finally did. I was thinking about it the other day why she finally did it. She was loosing control over me. I took for granted that my misery was my destiny and begun having a life of my own. There was always the wood work I enjoyed, begun making friends, socialized with family, camping (something like that), long nature walk, even got a best friend (a dog). The older the kids were getting the more detached and independent of her I became. She couldnt take it that she was loosing control of me so she used the ultimate and atomic weapon: take the kids away. She had it all planned.

The day I checked into an hotel room

I was already healed from the bow disease (IBD) but the doctor wanted me to have a colonoscopy twice a year in order to keep an eye on how my insides looked like. I had already a few such procedures but it was such a pain for her to come and get me from the anesthesia room (a waste of her time) that I took care of myself. We were not in the US and the procedure was not as strict as the protocol in the US. The protocol was that someone had to be present to take the person home. The anesthesia makes people a little stoned and spaced out. When the procedure was over and I regained my conscience I made this story that my someone was getting the car and waiting outside just around the corner, etc, etc. In the process I walked away from the clinic. Again, this was not in the US. No clinic in the US would let this happen.

Once in the streets of the old downtown I just walked around till the next coffe shop, have breakfast and move on. It was a funny experience because after the anesthesia I was spaced out. I knew where I was but I just wondered without a grip on the destination. It was a short thing lasting for less than half an hour.

But this last time I had the procedured the doctor removed something suspicious (later determined to be a harmless pseudo polyp) and there was some bleeding. I was in severe pain for the next 24 hours. She had been making troubles and I just couldnt take it to go back home and have to put up with more of her pain. So, I checked into the first hotel I saw and got a room. I called and explained that I was not well and therefore was going to stay in the hotel. Her reply was that I was only making an excuse for escaping my responsibilities to the kids (basically cooking and school pickup) but glad that I will stay away so not to disturb anyone with my sadness and pain. She told me to come back only when I will be feeling better. I told myself back then, better alone than in bad company. I was glad that at least I had only one pain to deal with.

Her cruelty still hurts me today. Humans dont treat other humans that way. She had no guilt or conscience whatsoever of her actions. But ... she called herself a christian and went to church regularly.

Hi NoOne, I have been following a murder trial here in the US that I thought might interest you. Normally the experts don't call the woman a Psychopath, but are in this case. It is getting very interesting because she is actually testifying.

You can find her by doing a Google search: jodi arias trial

Here is a Live Clip

Di

I am out of touch with the news but I just read a few things about the case. Apparently she is unaware of her own stories. She just makes them as she goes along. But if it is true that she murdered the boy friend then she has a problem. Apparently no sense of guilt. Glad to know the label psychopath is being used. Unfortunately it is not only a male prerogative. If so then she did a good job hidding it for so long and this is the first time she got caught. I doubt. One doesnt become a psychopath all the sudden. She has left psychopathic foot prints in her past and the question is whether people will come out and tell.

I had mixed feelings about the case because on one hand I thought about the victim. Poor guy. The hell he must had been through. How did she manage to control him to such extent? But on the other hand I also told myself how lucky I am because I was very close to have the same fate. The persistent hammer rampages, the poisoning, the emotional violence, psychological torture and the list goes on and on. She had two rampages episodes involving a big kitchen knife (I havent posted about it yet). I lost the kids but I survived. How lucky I am I didnt have the same fate!

Another hammer rampage

If my memory doesnt fail me the first time the kids witnessed my 'dear' psychopath hammer rampage was soon after the toaster case. Somehow I left the toaster unplugged. She was in a rush and, voila, the toaster didnt work. She went nuts. I was stupid, selfish, had no concern for anyone, iresponsible and the list went on and on. The kids witnessed it all and I mentioned that she shouldnt behave that way in front of the children. She went on a spin and made it even worst. She got the hammer from the barn and poor toaster got smashed. Luckly it remained unplugged. Then she turned to the kids and made this argument that it was all my fault and that what she was doing was normal. It was OK to let it all out. It was OK to get all the bad energies, anger etc, and break up stuff. It was OK because it was all my fault, my lack of responsibility, because I didnt think about anyone else except myself. I still tried to explain that leaving the toaster unplugged wasnt such a big deal. Anything I would have said at that point however only made things worst. She always had to have the last word, win the argument. No reasoning would have done anything at that point.

The next hammer rampage took place a few days later. I dont remember exactly why but while loading the dish washer I had suddently to do something else and left the door open. She scratched her leg. No big deal ... so I thought. She got the dirty dishes and threw them on the floor breaking them one by one. All in front of the kids, then kindergarden ages.

They were freightened, crying, running around. Once again the same argument: it was all my fault. She was the victim and that it was OK to let it all out by breaking up stuff. That same day both told their teachers what had happened at home. No wonder today they behave just like mom. The weapon of choice for one if rather a baseball bat. The other just breaks up whatever is at hand.

I had a dream.

Well, not really a dream, rather another nightmare. The hammer came back. I cant believe how in my little barn I have a few hammer types (each hammer had a different function in a wood workshop) and still remain sane. To make it short another real nightmare came back. I have been taking sleeping pills because I just cant sleep without them but last night I decided to cut it down. Most likely this was the trigger. I did not have a deep sleep and I was in the 'twilight zone' when she pop up of nowhere.

She had a huge hammer. And I mean a huge hammer (kind of hammer of Charles Martel, the Medieval king). Double ended. She came into the house out of no where (no door keys needed in nightmares) and begun breaking up everything. It was random. Just everything on her way was broken up. Mirrors first, but then kitchen cabinets, windows, doors, floors, even light bulbs, TV, radio, etc. It was random and very very violent. She just broke up everything that was on her way. It felt like random.

And ... one, it was real. All my mightmares are real. They are so real. Truly real. When I wake up I touch myself, look around, move, just to make sure it was not real. So, first, the realness, it felt really like she was there doing the hammer rampage. But then even more terrifying was my frozen state. I was frozen (it doesnt take a 'rocket scientist' to analyze this). I was frozen. Not really frozen as in ice or cold. Just that I couldnt move. My neck didnt move, much less my hands or legs. My eyes wanted to move but I couldnt even move my sight. I felt my neck stiff. Really stiff. I felt the nerves, muscles, blood vessels, whatever, really frozen. So frozen that it hurt. I was solid like stone or marble. Now I know how those marble statues in the museums feel like! I wanted to stop her, I wanted to talk, to call someone, to do something, but .... I was frozen. Not frozen as in ice but frozen like in stone. And, it was real, it was so real. Real just like the real thing. When I woke up (at last) I asked if everything was OK (we talked recently about what if she would show up one day). She looked preplexed, 'what is wrong with you?' Was I shouting? Moving? Turning around? The answer was, no. But, it was so real. I was struggling with myself neverthless physically speaking I was 'normal.' Anyway, I was so shocked that I spend the rest of the day drinking. Two bottles and a half of red wine more precisely. I just couldnt take it anymore. I wanted a drug, a shot, a pill, whatever, for thepain to go away. She was at work (she works shifts) and I was alone most of the day drinking.

I already paid a high price to get rid of my 'dear' psychopath but how much longer will she keep coming back intomy nightamres? Does it ever stop? Is there an end to it?

The psychopath and the worm

Yes, today I saw a tiny little white worm in my veggies garden. I got upset. I picked up the timy little white worm and was ready to do the right thing: smash her (or was it a him? Do worms have gender?). And ... all the sudden my memories got me back to the times of my psyhcopath. No, I dint get drunk this time. Apparently I can still deal with tiny little white worms. But I got 'down' so I thought it was a good idea to write about it. How can a psychopath and a worm be related? Let me tell you the story of my psychopath's worm.

When we got to our last living place I decided to have a life (resemblance of a life) of my own. One of the things the locals did was going to the 'market' at least twice a week to buy fresh produce. This market was a sort of what Americans call 'farmers makert.' But if you havent seen one you have no idea what it is. It is more medieval than modern. Farmers bring their produce (includes it all from lettuce to rabbits/chickens/pigs/whatever, even sea food) twice a week (mid week and weekends) for sale. I found out that in my area most were buying their food there so I went exploring the area. I soon found out that the people I knew where there not only buying food but also socializing. Drinking a little, eating local sweets, coffee and the likes. It was more than going shopping and since I knew some of the locals I had fun (=socializing). At last.

The fresh vegetables were great. No herbicides, no pesticidies, no fertilizers, etc, etc. Some looked really great, real, but some of the produce had imperfections. I had been told to go by the touch rather than the looks. With time I sort of learned to connect the feel and look of the produce and the taste. Believe me: fresh, home/country produced veggies (meat and all else) are a world apart from what you buy in Wallmart.

I was having so much fun going to the market twice a week that one day (unfortunatelly) I invited my 'dear' psychopath to come along. Most locals went there occasionally with their spouses so it was appropriate. I introduced her to the people I knew, showed her the produce, etc. A sort of guided tour. She even ate the local cookies and a drink. I took her afterwards to the local ancient church.

Big mistake.

Now she knew I was having fun at least twice a week. This is where the tiny little white worm comes into the picture.

Soon afterwards I bought the usual delicious lettuce. BUT, I must have made a big mistake (mea culpa): I didnt wash it right and ... because the veggies were not treated with herbices/pestices a tiny little white worm made her way into the salad bowl. I always washed (as I still do) all my veggies but ... this tiny little white worm escaped me. A survivalist! I placed the big white bowl of the salad at the dinner table and ... the tiny little white worm showed her head to my 'dear' psychopath. If I had seen it first I would have eaten it immediatelly.

Once she saw the worm she went on a rampage. No hammer rampage this time but the salad bowl did end up in the floor broken up. The argument went as usual: that I was not responsible serving worms to my kids, therefore I was a terrible dad, that I was serving spoiled, damage food to my kids, etc. etc, that I didnt care for anyone (you got it: the whole psychopath trip). Kids didnt like salad so it was the perfect excuse not to eat salad: there were worms 'all over.' Next she drove the kids to the closest McDonalds: a mere 45 minutes away via the highway! Local roads would have taken twice that much time. When she was back she forbade me to ever, ever, buy food again from that market. I had to buy produce and food only and only from the local 'Walmart.' Sterelized food!

I still went back to the market but only to say hi to people, drink coffee and a cookie but all the produce and food I bought at the commercial local 'Walmart.' She demanded the receipts for all the food that came into the home so to PROTECT her kids from my dirty food. As time went by I stopped going to the local market. What was the use of it?

Sorry if a tiny little worm and a psychopath may not have anything to do one with the other. For me they do.

Today, I am free, I go to the market twice a week to buy fresh produce. Never again a tiny little white worm made her (or his?) way into the salad bowl. Bad luck such a worm did it once upon a psychopathic time.

Hi Noone, I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your writing. You have a real talent.
The last time I read your posts I contemplated the difference between you creating with a hammer (which I assume you do with your woodwork) and your ex-Psychopath using a hammer for destruction. I wonder if that factor contributed to the appeal of the hammer for her.
Thanks for your worm story. It was very poignant. Psychopaths themselves are worms, although not little white harmless ones.
Please continue posting when you feel a need and know that people are reading, understanding, feeling and learning from your excellent prose.
NotCrzy

Thanks for you nice words. Not just the work created with my innocent hammers but anything 'good' I would do with or without a hammer she would destroy. I wished I had figured that one out earlier. Anything good/creative/pleasurable I would do she had had to destroy. Looking back, there are so many events that I now wonder about my naivetie and stupidity. Here is the next related sad memory.

Going to the children library

We lived very close to a very large university that had a huge collection on children literature. The school of education was one of the oldest in that part of the country and had been buying children books for a long time. The collection was stored in an old building across several floors. It was a huge, huge collection. Children books for all ages, from all places on earth and from all times. Some more than a century old.

So, after dinner when I had the kitchen clean I took my daughter to the library. At the first visit I sort of explained it to her how a library works, how the collection was divided, etc, etc and we just walked around endlessly in the corridors. Next day I told her that she could choose any book she wanted and I would read it for her.

Such became our routine. Every day after dinner we spent at least two hours at the library. The choice of book to read was always hers. Sometimes she didnt like her first choice and move on to another book. Sometimes she liked one section so much that I had to call her attention to other books. On the way home we always talked about the book with me trying to bring her out about the story. It became our routine.

Then ... one day the psychopath mother asked what we were doing. And ... (stupid me) we took her to our library routine. This time it was the kid showing mom the library. I was impressed. She introduced mom to the library sort of the way I did to her. She ended up choosing the book to read that night.

Mom was restless and could not wait for the reading to cease. Next day ... and I write this with tears in my eyes, she forbade us to go to back to the library. She became so upset that both me and kid were scared to death she would go on another hammer rampage. Never again we went to the library. We were now forbidden to go to the library. Instead she placed the kid in front of the TV and I took shelter from her evilness in the little barn.

Many years later my daughter still remembered the library days. She told me that it was one of the best memories of her childhood. Sad, however, it was cut short by a psychopath mother. But this was not the only time that anything good I did with the kids she had to destroy. Too sad that I allowed her to replace a dad/daughter quality time with TV. I dont even want to get into explaining and interpreting this. It is too sad. I rather leave it as such.

This is only one of the instances, there were many more ... judo, sailing, philosophy, even dress making ... I tried it all and every time we had fun she destroyed it.