I don't know what prompted me to do a search on this word. I really wanted the dictionary, but for some reason I put it in the search textbox instead.

psychopath

Every now and again I feel the most overwhelming sense of despair and doom envelope me and I obsess about the people in my life who seem to have no conscience. My best friend and boyfriend are mystified by this inconsolable blackness and they leap upon me with advice when they see it come on. They have limited understanding.

The last piece of advice I got about it was, "Well, put it in it's place..." and that's when I stopped him and told him not to say another word. He clammed up and nursed his sense of hurt pride with the notion that I am stubborn or defiant or whatever, and then patronized me with changing the subject to the weather. He doesn't know what else to do.

One of the other things that came up in the search was this site - please let the URL remain! It's important.

http://www. philosophical book by a psychiatrist who champions psychopathology as a workable philosophy such as in some forms of zen and Ayn Rand. Real and really f'ing scary. Deleted because it's too scary. Understandable..

As I began to read, I got the sickest feeling in my stomach. My Mother was a huge Ayn Rand fan, as were her closest friends. She tried to raise me to feel good about myself for being productive and contributing to society. All I can remember is feeling unloved, alone and overwhelmed by the demands of the world. I felt perpetually inadequate and ashamed that I took up space and breathed the air.

I was ripe fruit for any psychopath to pick. I suspect that many of us have experienced a similar set-up.

People who had unresolved inner conflict were attracted to me because I would so easily absorb their feelings of self-loathing, fear, anger, hurt etc. I was constantly looking for reasons to cut people slack because all I could see around me was the endless burden of shame and fear and how it was breaking the spirits of humanity. I wanted to take it all away so people could be free and feel loved.

I was at one of my strongest points when I met my future husband. I was in recovery for co-dependence and practicing a rigorous program. He was a recovering addict and alcoholic and also working it hard - I thought. While I don't know if he was a psychopath or not, I do know that his behavior towards me during our first month of marriage confused me so badly that I couldn't tell if he was developmentally disabled or evil. Either way, I was screwed and I couldn't find anyone to believe that I wasn't just indulging my co-dependent victim fantacies. Marriage counsellors did so much damage there...

I took stock of what kind of dynamics were going on in his family of origin and one thing stood out as nearly undeniable. His sister, older and actually my age and build, was truly a psychopath. She was so dominant that she pretty much controled his world and that of the entire family. She is now deaf and is blessedly unable to stay on top of everything that is being said and done around her, so her advantage is gone. But the damage was done. My husband adapted to her way of doing things while he was a child, so that after she ran away, he used drugs, alcohol and finally me to fill the void of control that she left. He didn't see it. I had to figure it out in order to survive emotionally. I had to run his program for him, and in order to survive had to, once again, sacrifice my own. He never came clean about his problem while with me, so after turning me into an emotional toxic waste dump, he told me he filed for divorce, took my kids and moved out.

We've been divorced/separated for about 7 1/2 years. Now he's engaged to another woman and even though 7 months ago was trying to date me again, now completely ignores me and lavishes affection on her when I come to drop off or pick up the kids. It is rude and disrespectful and I've bent over backwards to offer blessing and love to him and his new love. I have no ill-will towards him. But his behavior brings out this feeling in me like a cornered and hurt animal. Helpless, weak, completely overpowered and manipulated. Poised to strike in a suicidal and hopeless attempt to make it all stop. Make it stop. Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!!!

Maybe what started this is my work. I'm a movie reviewer. I've been slated to review "Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events" and I'm experiencing acute writer's block. I chose this movie. I thought I wanted to explore grief. But that's not what's coming up for me. What comes up for me is numbness and confusion. It is crippling.

And over the weekend I discovered another website that I find very stimulating and encouraging. But someone asked a question there and then posited a posible solution that again brought me to that place of numbness and confusion. I'm keeping my participation there on the QT because of possible reprocussions in my work. It is imperative that I'm able to be honest there. I don't want to pull punches because I'm protecting an image.

Last week I fell in love with the movie, "The Village" because of the way it isolated the problem of repressed internal conflict into the character of Noah and then asks some really good questions about what to do after that problem unleashes it's full destructive force. In a way it made it too easy by killing him, because the reality is more likely that we have to live with this problem beside and inside of us all the time. I would like to see Knight come back to that community in another 20 or 30 years and see what the next generation does with it.

I'm avoiding talking about this because she is close by... but my daughter is showing signs of this sick pattern. Yesterday after saying something incredibly rude to me in front of my boyfriend, she laughed and said she loves to piss me off and it's my fault for making it so fun and easy... I've tried to joke with her about her tendency, but I'm finding my ability to joke quickly diminishing. This is part of the reason for my current black mood. I've tried to get away from these people in my life, but I can't. Like August says in The Village, they can smell you, like dogs. They follow you wherever you go... I'm so close to doing what my Mother has done and striking out at my child for behaving in a way I find profoundly immoral and evil. I want to go hide in my room and not come out. Just like when I was a child. I don't want to hurt her, but I feel like her victim... It's a sick sick process and I don't know how to stop it.

So, here I am. Not quite as numb, stuck or crippled as I was 3 hours ago.

I wonder if anyone out here can relate...

Hi Whitewave,

Welcome to the forum.

Strangely, my first reaction to your very well-written post was a sense that your ability to write holds you in check. Does that make any sense at all to you?

"Maybe what started this is my work...and I'm experiencing acute writer's block."

I have tried at various times to write an article about my P experience. I have a BA in English and a Masters in Translation/Communication. I can explain the characters. I can write dialogue. I know how to create flow and proper transitions and I love to write. You’d think I could write a good article, but I can't! I have concluded that while writing about this profoundly disturbing experience, I leave my Self behind. Instead of allowing the words to explain how I feel, I hide behind them. When I do write about my inner truth, the words become a jumble of nearly incoherent expressions of pain, sadness, sorrow and non-understanding. Flow and transitions are non-existent. This is clearly unacceptable and certainly un-publishable. I feel as though I've been hung by my own petard!

You write that other people have limited understanding. This is something most of us can relate to. Please see Tocatta's posts (use the Search function) or check her article at:

http://ogch.tripod.com/test.html

I will check the website you included in your post and get back to you later.

Meanwhile, for your own safety, may I suggest that you EDIT the personal work information in your post. Use the EDIT icon on the right hand side.

Nan

Hi Whitewave,

I have now checked the website you included in your post.

While I have NO desire to stop anyone from reading what is to be found on the Internet, I do feel that I have a responsibility to ensure that our many readers and posters are not directly subjected to material that is as scary, as vivid and as in-your-face as the website in question.

I have therefore copied it to a safe place and then deleted it from your post. I will discuss it with Dianne, who owns this forum. If she feels that I have acted rashly, I will reinstate the link.

Nan

Hi, Nan. Thanks. Pretty scary, huh? That guy's for real.

The writing issue is only partially true for me. I've been keeping a journal since I was in jr. high so my words are now more of a primary language than my thoughts, but only to a certain point in the past. If I go back to pre-verbal feelings, then I end up circling something mysterious and feeling frustrated. But because I have mastered what I call 5-year-old-speak, and have done alot of work in T.A. I can eventually bring it up into the world of words. I have often been told by people that I'm somehow able to express what they have been feeling, and they've never been able to do it for themselves before.

I'm sure you're right in that's what's going on here. I've tapped something too primal for my words to get at it yet. But then I've just started to identify it. It won't be long before I bring it all the way out. Good call.

Thanks for helping me.

And now for a fabulous display of naivete. Why hide my personal work stuff? Will I be hunted down from here? To here?

Hi Whitewave,

Thanks for being so understanding. It is very rare that I feel called upon to Edit or Delete anything from a post.

What you write about mastering '5-year-old' speak is a new thought to me, but something I instantly recognise as valid. I will take a look at that. Thank you!

"I'm sure you're right in that's what's going on here. "

It was not a thought so much as a feeling. In fact, I had to think about it for some time to be able to put words to my intuitive feeling about why.

"I've tapped something too primal for my words to get at it yet."

As I understand it, that rings true for me. Hmn.....<s>.

"And now for a fabulous display of naivete. Why hide my personal work stuff? Will I be hunted down from here? To here? "

Weeeell...The Internet is filled with people just looking for a chance to "get at" unsuspecting souls. There are many reasons why it may be a good idea to leave personal information at home. We do our level best to keep this forum a safe place for readers and posters alike.

Take care,

Nan

Yeah, the 5-year-old-speak thing is valid and I've used it several times. I've stayed away from formal training in writing for two reasons. #1 I suck at academic effort. #2 There's a Baudrillardian irony in the study of things related to art which draws out inner feelings and thoughts.

You start with the real thing - something important to communicate and the ability to do so. Then we identify patterns in the most effective forms of communications. Then we turn those patterns into rules. Then the Rules become more important than the reality. Then the reality vacates and all you have left are the rules. I've struggled through books written by people who are obviously successful at manipulating words within the boundary of rules, but the real ability to communicate is somehow missing. Academia is rife with this ironic and torturous problem. Bleh! It's too hard and frustrating for me.

Lets see if I can lay down some good introspection here and draw the feelings up into the words. What I usually start with is blackness...

[I'm a Christian Goth, btw, and this is why. I accept and protect the blackness in the heart because in it hides the well-spring of life.]

When I turn my attention inside at these times, I "see" blackness, or the absence of any visual thing. I "feel" numbness and confusion or the absence of any coherent feeling. Unless I am somehow provoked, I don't usually turn my attention towards it, because my soul is working overtime to keep it hidden and inconspicuous.

When I am going along and trying to deal with stuff in relationships and I become progressively uncomfortable about something, but have no idea what to do about it and therefore become increasingly paralyzed and passive, it is usually something that goes back to a blackness. So when I get fed up enough, I put on my war-paint, pick up my spear and go into the Cave.

I go over the things which provoke me and I pay careful attention in the dark to discern any movement. All my senses are cranked up to maximum and my breathing changes. I see something move and I bring down the spear until I catch something. When I bring it up to my eyes and see it, I squeeze it to see if any words come out. This is the time to expect early words. "AAAAAAK!" "Ow." "Go away!" "I don't want to!" "Hurting me!" "Scaring me!" "Make it stop!" "Fight!" "Crying." etc. The more words come out, the stronger the communication becomes until sometimes it cascades into a bonafide sense of panic. They might gush out of the dark at me at an overwhelming speed and intensity. I've had episodes... another story. The crying might start. Might not. It might not become that incapacitating. If I don't have it right, then the cascade doesn't happen, and the feeling gets away. Like loosing a fish on a line. I keep at it.

But some days, you can't catch anything because it's too well hidden. So you stop trying and come back another day. Often the best thing to do is forget it and go engage life outside, but keep an eye peeled for any little black areas moving around. If you see something, watch it carefully to see where it's hiding. Then go back later to that place.

In T.A. I learned to come along side myself when those early words come and help interpret what that child is feeling and experiencing. Not with full-on grown-up-speak, but a transitioning language. The same way you'd help any small child with feelings about traumatic events in their life. I write it out, sometimes in a letter form. Sometimes this isn't necessary. "Does this scare me?" "Do I feel bad?" "Am I hurting?" "They did a bad thing." "It's not my fault." "They are wrecking my ability to understand and recover." etc. "I feel powerless."

I'm very careful here to watch for identity flags. In my child-speak, I might say something like "I am bad." or "I am disgusting." I have to rephrase these things for myself into "I feel" terms because when my Self becomes identified with those things it collapses into anihilation. That is what maintains the vacuum and the blackness and traumatizes my soul to the point of having to hide it.

The amazing thing, is that the "Child" grows and matures and begins to gain skills to deal with these things and they trauma moves from the blackness to the light where I can learn more cognitively. The overwhelming sensations diminish because my Self is actually getting bigger. I'm no longer the small child in a big world that I have NO control over. I begin to gain some control.

Right now, when I think of the things my daughter has said, I get, "Go away! Scary! Leave me alone! Mean!" and screaming, "AAAAAAAAK!" My stomach tightens and I want to cry. I look down as if ashamed. I want to curl up in a ball. My breathing is shallow and shaking.

Things pop into my mind which have been used to shush these feelings in the past... "You know she's only doing this because she's been traumatized herself... she doesn't deserve your retribution... she's only a child... she's not the original offender..." and such. This chases the feelings back into the dark. But I know they need to be brought out, so I still those voices for now. They will be needed later.

My adult voice comes and asks, "What happened?" "I don't know. I don't remember." is the response. I wait. "Am I bad? She doesn't love me. Why can't she love me?" I recognise that this is about my Mother, now and then the tears come. "Why doesn't she care that she doesn't love me? Why isn't that a bad thing? It hurts so bad! I don't understand! Help me! Why doesn't anyone help me?" And out it comes.

I did all this in real time. This is live.

See what I mean?

Hi Whitewave,

"See what I mean? "

I understand some of it, not all of it. I have to 'sit' with your post a little while to see what parts of it I can grasp on an intuitive level and then I have to see if I can attach words to what I can intuit.

I know a little bit about T.A. I understand it to me mean Transactional Analysis. Is that correct?

Nan

Yup. Popularized psychology. It got ignored I think because it became so popular and therefore it must be too simplistic to be right. It's a helpful tool for what it does.

I just skimmed that article. Made me nauseous. Lot's of memories of people laughing at me, dismissing me, out-maneuvering me when I tried to tell them what was going on. In the end, they never helped me.

One memory in particular is most painful. At church one Sunday, an elder lady in the congregation announced a new program of older, more experienced women mentoring and mothering younger women. Being still very passive and trying to achieve success through conformity, I signed up. When she asked me what kind of mentoring or mothering I thought I might need, I told her that I didn't really know, but that a good place to start is by letting me get away from my children for an hour or two every day so I can regain my sense of Self and not keep lashing out at them because I felt like a caged animal. She laughed and said that we all wish for such luxuries and then asked me to tell her what I really needed.

Jesus.

The urge to vindicate myself by mailing her a letter with this article is very strong right now... a letter to the new Pastor explaining what lurks behind the false front of that man who is now sitting in his pews with the woman he's trying to pastor also comes to mind... I honestly feel the need to protect his new fiance as well, but that will only be percieved as an attack. So trapped. So powerless... Needless to say, I stopped going to that Church after they basically gave me too much grief for needing support and practical help after he left me. I was so incredibly damaged... oh, my God.