Layers of Hurt

January 6, 2013

     One thing I was unprepared for in all of this was how many layers of hurt I would be experiencing.  Firstly, my ego and pride are bruised as I realize how foolish I sounded as I explained to you how I liked our “barely there” arrangement, where I saw you just often enough to pretend that we had some sort of relationship, and you had the space to get your life back on track and pursue your hobbies and interests.  Little did I know that even more of your time was being taken up by an actual girlfriend…someone who believed she was in a relationship with you because she was.  And you sat there and listened to these words come out of my mouth and you said nothing, or worse yet, agreed with me.

     On the next level, I feel intense betrayal.  I can’t even fathom how many lies you have had to tell me to keep up the illusion that you were a free agent.  It makes me weep to think on all the times you told me that you couldn’t be and didn’t want to be in a relationship, but this whole time you were, and it was with someone that wasn’t me.  I trusted you with my heart and my soul and you lied to me, knowing that the truth would bring pain.  It is the malicious act of lying to my face which I find so hard to wrap my mind around.  Direct questions responded to with straight-faced lies, a skill I have never been able to hone in my personal life.

     Not only have I lost the ability to trust you, but I have lost the ability to trust myself.  I have always relied on my intuition and my ability to read people in order to steer clear of dangerous situations.  My heart has never been so wrong.  While all of my friends and family could see things so clearly, I alone blinded myself to every red flag, convincing myself that these were good things…the space, the distance, the infrequent phone calls.  In reality, I was giving you all the space you needed to deceive me, never questioning the lies you fed me.  I never once suspected a thing.  I was so thoroughly duped.  It makes me crazy to think I handed you the power to hurt me so deeply.

***

     I had always heard stories of wives being shocked that their husbands were leading double lives, with second houses and families on the opposite side of the country.  I always thought to myself, “you fool, how on Earth did you not see it?”  I had this belief that abusers were uneducated drunks, and easy to spot a mile away.  The women with them must know they are being abused, and choose to stay because they think they deserve that kind of treatment, or have known nothing else.  I pictured the woman, night after night asking him where he had been so late, as he gives the same old “I had to work late” excuse.  M had always provided me with more information than I needed about what he was up to each day, so that I never had to ask where he was or what he was doing.  He would often tell me he was having dinner with his parents.  As soon as I felt a little jealousy rising about him hanging out with other people, while making no time for me, he’d tell me how busy he was with band practice.  His family and his music were two things I had told myself I was not allowed to be jealous of.  I knew these things were important for him to get his life back on track, so I never questioned it.  I literally thought I knew where he was every moment of every day because he had offered up the information without my asking.  When I found out about his double life, I was blindsided by exactly how many lies he must have told me about his whereabouts to cover up his relationship.  He must have been texting me from her house feeding me lies on numerous occasions.  The thought of him spending time with her, while lying his ass off to me via text was enough to make me want to vomit.  When I met up with A, she had told me she had seen texts from me come in and he lied to her face about it, saying I was “just a friend.”

     I had run into him a few weeks prior at a concert, and I finally had a chance to have it out with him now that I knew the truth.  For the first time, I was able to hear the tactics he was using to manipulate me in real time as I blew holes into his facade.  I heard him mirroring A, as he used direct quotes from her to fake empathy for how I must be feeling (I knew because I had spoken to her prior and she told me some of the things she had said to him).  I heard him projecting his own bad behavior onto me as he told me how bad I was for contacting A in the first place.  I saw him switch mid-sentence from anger to a pity-play when he realized that I did not, in fact, cower in the face of his rage, but rather rose to meet him.  I saw him cry crocodile tears for the first time.  His girlfriend had warned me that this was something he did, but I had not personally seen him cry before…most likely because I had never rose up against him.  I heard him try to rationalize away almost an entire year of shitty behavior.  I heard him lie to my face when I confronted him about the fact that he wasn’t even single when we first met (which had just been confirmed that very evening by his ex-girlfriend).  I felt like I had developed a sixth sense for seeing through his bullshit.  Not a single word out of his mouth was honest.  It was 100% psychological and emotional manipulation.  He had been doing it since the day I met him, but only in that moment could I see it clearly.  This man, who I had loved with my entire being was a complete farce.  He was an abuser.  He was broken.  He had no sense of morality or empathy.  He was a Narcissist.  In my opinion, he was evil. 

     Now I can understand how these women were fooled for so long.  A high-functioning Narcissist does not leave an obvious trail of evidence to follow.  He knows the doubt and insecurity you are feeling as a result of his behavior, because he has orchestrated it.  Now he will use that doubt and fear to control your behavior and emotions to keep you in line with his agenda.  Theirs is a mind game, and unless the victim is well-versed in psychological manipulation, some of the tactics are very hard to see.  It has taken a very long time for me to shift my view of him from “soul mate” to “abuser” and to forgive myself for being blind to the truth, but little by little, things are snapping into place. 

Letting the Cat out of the Bag: Contacting the Other Woman

December 20, 2012

(with this post I am breaking format and including the letter I wrote to the other woman instead of a letter I wrote to M)

A,

     I have been M's lover for the past nine months (with an exception of July-Sept). I met him at [his band’s] show and I thought things were going great until he left me because things were going too fast for him. He came back a few months later after dating you for a short time. During these nine months I have believed him to be my soul mate and a very important person in my life. I have listened to him talk about how he doesn't trust women and I felt special that I was the woman he could trust. So it turns out there is more than one woman he can trust.

     I had asked him about you and he spoke as if that was in the past. Apparently it's not. I lowered so many of my expectations to stay with him as long as I have, only asking that he tell me if he took on additional lovers so I could make the choice to leave if that grew to be too much for my heart to bear. He obviously does not respect me enough to grant me that.

     I hope none of this comes to you as much as a surprise as it did to me, or that you at least had not deluded yourself as thoroughly as I have. I know he loves to praise the ways of polyamory, but as I understand it, all the participants are supposed to know that is what they are a part of. I hope I have it wrong for your sake, but in case this is important for you to know I wanted to return the favor you did for me. I was able to figure it out by your Facebook posts on his wall, but I only saw them one week ago.

     I know that if he finds out I contacted you he will probably never speak to me again and that thought hurts my soul. I understand if you feel the need to confront him though. That's what I did. I'm willing to talk on the phone or in person if you feel the need to discuss this more thoroughly. I will be completely honest with you as that is the virtue I praise above all others.

Sincerely,

D

***

     I had spent the previous week going back and forth on whether or not I should reach out to A.  I wasn’t sure if my inclination was motivated by sincere concern for her, my own pressing desire to know the truth, or my wounded heart’s need to lash out at M in some way.  I analyzed all the possible ways I could approach her.  My ego wanted to ask her pointed questions without revealing my own entanglement in the situation, but my brain knew this would only make her suspicious and not lend itself to any meaningful discourse.  In the end, I decided to put myself entirely out there with my first contact and place the power in her hands.  I wanted her to know the truth and hoped she would communicate with me, but I was terrified of her reaction. 

     I sent off this message via Facebook right before heading out to my company Christmas dinner party.  She responded within the time it took me to walk the five blocks to the restaurant.  She gave me her number and asked me to call.  It was only during that first telephone conversation that I found out she was his girlfriend, but I still thought maybe she had just slapped the title on their relationship without consulting M on the subject.  We had a tear-filled chat for about half an hour and we made plans to meet up later that evening.  I spent the company dinner in a daze. 

     A few hours later, she and I met up at a local pub and compared notes.  We bought round after round of Irish Car Bombs, commiserating over what an asshole M turned out to be after we were both duped into thinking he was the most perfect man on the planet.  I got drunker and drunker, crying my eyes out and revealing to A the entire timeline of my relationship with M, giving her the sordid details of how he and I had been sending each other sexually explicit texts up until I found out about her.  A’s best friend was also at the pub and when she got wind of my involvement with M, she became incredibly hostile, making it clear that she believed that I only revealed myself to A after being dumped and that she thought I  knew M had a girlfriend the whole time. 

     The culmination of that evening was when A suggested that the most reasonable course of action would be to take a photo of the two of us kissing and post it up on Facebook and tag M in it.  It worked.  Within minutes he had unfriended her and we had a tremendous laugh over imagining what must be going on in his mind in that moment. 

     She thanked me again and again for coming forward to her.  M had begun the process of a long, cruel discard of her and she was already beginning to feel the ill effects.  She admitted that she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to escape had I not revealed myself.  After spending the previous summer near suicidal, I thought maybe I knew what she meant and was glad I was able to help.  I, for one, felt more able to walk away from him than ever before, but there were still some huge obstacles to overcome.  The largest of these was the tremendous cognitive dissonance that had been created with my discovery of A.  M had an entirely different life than what he had revealed to me.  He had a girlfriend that he wasn’t afraid to say “I love you” to and had introduced her to his family.  He spent holidays with her and they went on trips together…all the things he had denied me because he “wasn’t ready for a relationship.”  Everything I knew about him was wrong.  He was not the sweet, honest, empathetic person I thought he was.  He was not the wounded ex boyfriend of a girl that treated him roughly.  He was not my friend.  In fact, he told A nasty things about me and tried to make it look like I was the one in the wrong.  He would turn around and say the same things about her to me.  The way he spoke about A made me FURIOUS.  In fact, that was one of the biggest mistakes he made with me.  By letting me see him wrong her so repeatedly, he stirred up something in me that he couldn’t wrap his mind around…empathy for HER.  Watching his behavior towards her was the one thing that allowed me to see how he truly is: a heartless, manipulative monster.  Without empathy, you aren’t fully human, and that is precisely what narcissism is, a psychological condition caused by a lack of empathy for others.  You could say it’s a sort of brain damage. 

     It’s still so difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that perhaps M is not physically capable of love for another human…that never in his heart was there any love for me, but looking back on his behavior, everything adds up.  It is only my belief in this that has spared me from the devil’s hand for so long.  If for one second I let myself believe he had the capacity for love, I’d be right back in it, trying to win his affection.  This is how deeply the addiction lies, that is caused by the early stages of a narcissistic relationship. 

Harnessing Anger

December 19, 2012

     Today I have harnessed anger.  I double checked my text messages to see what I was doing the day of November 20th, the day she posted a photo of you with a banana in your pocket while standing in her kitchen.  The caption reads “Is that a banana in your pocket?”  The obvious sexual nature of the comment is only further enhanced by the fact that on that very same day you made love to me in your bed, I took self-portraits of myself in front of your house representing my longing for a family, for children.  I took portraits of myself sitting nude at your mother’s piano, of myself at your kitchen table, holding your pen hovering above your religious charts and studies.  I bet when I go to look at that photo of you that you will be wearing the same shirt I saw you leave in, as you rushed off to go “help your family move.” 

     All day I have been tempted to share this with her, to rat you out, to give her the same anger I have needed to walk away…the anger she unknowingly gave me.  Part of me wants to return the favor and part of me just wants to wound you.

     I’m glad she was brave enough to out herself as your lover, a strength I never possessed.  I was too filled with fear of rejection to stake any sort of claim.  I’m trying to wait a few more days before I make my final decision on whether to contact her, knowing that my doing so will probably burn a bridge with you forever.  I know it’s not something I should do in the heat of passion, until I know I am prepared to face the consequences.

      I hope I can stay this angry for awhile.  It is the most empowered I have felt in ages.  I fear the day you try to contact me, that I will fold to your will, but part of me hopes I will have the strength to declare, “I will not sacrifice myself for you any longer.”

***

     First off, I have a few things to admit.  In the blind rage of those first few days, I had misremembered a few things, namely the date I had seen on the above mentioned Facebook post.  The banana photo had not, in fact, been posted on the same day I had been at M’s house.  I was off by a few days.  However, the two events DID happen within the same week, right before Thanksgiving.  That being said, the depth of my blindness truly astounded me.  I literally could not believe the evidence that was right before my eyes.  He had even admitted to having a sexual relationship with this girl and I still could not properly wrap my mind around it.  I had spoken to him on the phone on Thanksgiving day and we chatted about his family.  I was at my father’s house on the other coast of Florida, sad that I could not spend the holiday with M.  I so desperately wanted to meet his family.  I imagined they would all be tall, blonde, blue-eyed and gorgeous, just like him.  That same evening, he went over to A’s house to play Balderdash with her friends and celebrate the holiday.  This was something that took weeks to sink in.  He treated A like a real girlfriend.  He introduced her to his family, he took her to public events with him, he spent holidays with her, he called her his girlfriend, he told her that he loved her and that he wanted her to be the one.  These were the things that hurt the most.  He was doing and saying all the things I wanted to do and hear, but with her instead of me.  My hurt and rage was unprecedented. 

          I immediately wanted to tell A everything, but I was afraid that she was already in the know and I was the idiot that didn’t know M had been fooling around with multiple people.  When I confronted him about A, M told me there were many other women and there would always be many others (later, he claimed he only said this so I would not specifically target A and tell her what was up, but I have a feeling there was some truth to his original claim).  I thought maybe she knew she was just a casual girl on the side and was fine with her role, and that by contacting her, I’d look like a crazy idiot.  On the other hand, even if she did believe me, SHE might go crazy and take things out on me.  She and I had a few mutual friends on Facebook, so I contacted one and asked him if she seemed like a down to Earth girl that could handle me approaching her with my side of the story.  He gave me the green light and said she was a cool chick.  Still, I waffled back and forth on which path to take.  The urge to destroy M was second only to my desire to be with him, no matter the cost.

     In the end, my lust for honesty and my pursuit of the truth won out over my sick addiction to M.  I decided to contact A, setting in motion the course of events that would finally open my eyes to the truth and begin the very long process of healing.