Through the Eyes of Survivors: Tips for Recovery

Through the Eyes of a Survivor:

Finding Hope in Research: Connecting Research in Psychopathy to My Life

Early in life I felt like an outsider, unable to make friends and have the closeness I saw between other people. Why not for me? I couldn’t understand why and didn’t know what to do about it.
For decades I grieved and tried to deal with the loss of so many friends who really mattered to me; the efforts I made for my friendships and much of what I was building in my life would suddenly crumble, and I felt helpless.

My parents offered no personal support and little recognition, and I felt like a balloon with feet, having to bounce back after every failed effort.

Although I blamed myself for these personal losses, I was able to reach a high level of education in early adult years and needed to understand why I could accomplish this while remaining unable to function without fear in my personal life.

Going to counseling helped to reassure me of my abilities and of my value, but it didn’t point to the problem.

During my studies in psychology (1980’s) I had not encountered courses which clarified the complex syndrome of psychopathy. This disorder was listed with other “personality disorders” and I couldn’t see the immediate relevance to my situation.
Eventually, by chance in 2010, I encountered Without Conscience and Snakes in Suits at a community public library.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I began reading through the more salient features and key traits of persons known to have psychopathy, I was surprised and went out and bought these books. I began highlighting, underlining, and bookmarking pages. I wrote the initials of those who had hurt me in the margins, and gradually realized that almost all of the traits fit someone who was omnipresent in my life. ……. My mother!

I soon found the Aftermath: Surviving Psychopathy Foundation website, and knew I’d found the ongoing resource I so badly needed.
Reading the newsletter research summaries, I felt like I was opening a treasure chest! Ideas and possible answers came to me. Connections between the research findings and my experiences became clearer to me, and, the more I read, the more sense my situation seemed to make; I was increasingly hopeful. I was connecting dots!
I became aware that it wasn’t all my fault, that my mother had been cruel to my dear brother and myself, beginning early in our childhoods. She seemed to regard each of us as an obstacle in her life, something to be moved out of the way, grabbing, pushing, pulling and threatening us. She would shriek suddenly for no apparent reason, and often said, “I could kill you.” We were made invisible, fearful, and silent. I was afraid to look into her eyes, as there was hatred in them.
For as long as I can remember, while we grew up, she influenced others to harm and isolate us. She goaded our father to beat my brother violently, and I was injured by strategic accidents. My brother and I suffered many injuries, including concussions.
She did all this while maintaining a noble social image.
Most of the time my brother and I were kept apart from each other as well as from others, but it was my brother whose life saved me from wanting to die. He loved me. By knowing that he existed, I knew that I was a person and not a thing.
In my teen years I considered suicide several times, not knowing the source of my problems, for although my mother was generally hostile toward me, I could not have imagined her tenacity and the breadth of her covert lying.
Later, despite all that I had accomplished and earned in my early adult years, she successfully shattered my reputation, my marriage, and broke apart the life I was building. I had to begin a new life in my late 30’s, with most of my family turned against me and very little financial or social support.
I was terrified.
Gradually and slowly, I learned how to rebuild. I persisted with my academic studies, then embarked on what became a successful career, and looked forward to my future.
I found purpose in my work and began to expand my practice, but my plans were cut short. I collapsed at 49 and was never able to return to work. This was the sudden onset of a chronic illness which I still live with.

Thankfully, by that time, I had become emotionally strong and resilient. I tried to keep my mother at a distance and began having conversations with my brother about our shocking experiences with her. It was the first time in our lives that we were able to share some of this information.
My brother had always been directly targeted by her, and she continued doing this throughout his life. She was persistent and predatory, and openly delighted in the humiliations she planned, the injuries he suffered, and the hatred she created between him and others.
He was perplexed and grieved deeply by her overt abuse, but, as he grew up, he was able to hold his values and maintain his personal honor. He would not hit back or hurt someone in return. He was heroic, but he had been injured with physical and emotional wounds that he could not overcome, and I believe this contributed to a premature end to his life. I miss him heavily.
At mid-life, I was already a well-informed person actively seeking answers about our mother’s behavior, but didn’t know where to look. If I’d been educated about the traits of the psychopath during my formal studies, my brother and I would have perceived the danger more clearly and, together, acted accordingly. We both knew that our mother was dangerous, but we could have connected the dots and protected ourselves more effectively.
If I’d had this information earlier, it is possible that I could have saved him.
Now it’s late in my life, and I have grief but am grateful for having scientifically based research information available. Finding the resource information in 2010 was a pivotal point in my life; I was finally able to understand the context I had lived through. I began to make sense of my fears and losses, as well as my brother’s.
The more I read about this complex disorder, the more deeply I understand both the people with high traits of psychopathy and those whose lives are consequently damaged. I can apply this knowledge to help relieve me, somewhat, of feelings of hopelessness and anger. My mother passed on, leaving a terrible legacy. To the end of her life, her behavior toward her children mirrored a surprising number of the relevant findings described in the research summaries that I have read.
Therefore, I am optimistic because research is ongoing globally and is being taught so future generations can understand.
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The disorder of psychopathy can be understood by the public as a serious disorder, not a list of insults. It is possible for unknowing victims to identify their situation and be realistic about the potential traps that await them, and to alert others who can intervene before a disaster occurs.
I came across the information by sheer luck. Dr. Hare was working on the PCL in the ‘70’s and on his illuminating book in the ‘90’s, so this guidance was not yet publicly available during my formal studies. It was a bittersweet moment for me while reading Without Conscience, as I realized that my own mother had most of the traits described.
However, once I discovered this, I began actively seeking research summaries, and my perspective on my own life changed dramatically. I read as much as I can and will follow available information as more unfolds.

I imagine that thousands of uninformed victims would welcome a similar opportunity to find the resources needed. Thankfully, organizations exist which publish scientifically acquired research findings for public reading, such as the Aftermath: Surviving Psychopathy Foundation. However, there is a chasm between the available knowledge and public awareness of its availability. This chasm needs to be bridged.
Education and public health institutions, for example, could help to increase the public attention paid to these resources.
The aim of increasing public awareness warrants significant financial support. This is needed while also increasing support for scientific research. Ideally, funds should be made available to support research projects that reflect the scale of the problems that arise in society stemming from those people with psychopathic traits.
From my perspective, I became free to value myself and enjoy my life despite my health limits. I keep good friends, gain spiritual strength through my faith, and have learned many ways to relieve the sorrow. I believe that, if victims are not aware of the information available, they may be overwhelmed by the harm and cruelties being committed, and become unable to seek joy elsewhere in life.

Finding accurate information about psychopathy was an awakening for me. I expect that finding this knowledge can provide a key for others who suffer from the harm done by a psychopathic family member and for many others who unknowingly suffer from the behaviors of a person with psychopathy.

Alison

Lying to Others

I don’t really remember exactly when I caught my ex-husband’s first lie, but I do remember as time went on and I got to know him better I noticed that from time to time he would exaggerate when telling stories (if the fish was one foot long it must have been two feet long). He would also occasionally tell a truthful story but then include items that were an all-out lie (if he visited one city in a state that allowed him to say he had visited any other city in that state).  It appeared to me that some of the lying he did was to make himself look better, such as telling people that he owned part of a business when he did not (a complete lie).  In the beginning of our marriage, I would try to gently correct the discrepancies right away when I noticed him making them, and I made up excuses in my mind to deal with his inaccurate storytelling to others such as maybe he forgot the story details or was tired and made a mistake.  Surely, he was not doing this on purpose, I thought at first, but as he continued I thought different. Later in our marriage, not wanting to get into an argument with my ex-husband about his lying, I would become embarrassed and walk away from conversations. From seeing how often he lied, I had learned to not believe anything he said if I could not verify it by other means, especially if what he said seemed too good to be true.

Lying to Me

Along with my ex-husband’s lies to others, he also lied to me on many occasions.  I remember one time when I was looking for some of my magazines and writings I had left on the floor on my side of the bed (at the time I had no nightstand) and asked him if he had done something with them.  He said he had not seen them, but later that day I found all the missing items in the trash.  He didn’t like clutter, so I guess he threw away my stuff to clean the room.

One particular lie my ex-husband told me stands out in my mind, not necessarily because it was calculated, but because of how and when he told me about the lie.  Towards the end of our marriage my ex-husband worked from home for a company, and I worked outside the home.  My ex-husband would tell me he worked hard all day every day that he worked out of the house and that he had to continue working late into the evening.  Fast forward to the divorce when he decided to tell me that he had been lying to me: during the time he was saying he was working from home, he would often go golfing in the afternoons and return to our house before I got home from work.  I still remember the way he smiled and laughed at me in delight when he told me this.  He was proud he had pulled the wool over my eyes and duped me for such a long time.  When he mentioned this during our divorce, I felt that he was making fun of me, and I speculated that he wanted to hurt me psychologically, but by that point in time I had already been reading everything I could get my hands on about psychopathy.  Learning about psychopathic behaviors and traits helped me to put into perspective some of the disturbing behaviors my ex-husband displayed, including lying.  This new perspective helped me to dampen my habitual thinking, that in some way I was at fault for his bad treatment of me, that I must have been doing something wrong, and that maybe I could have positively influenced him in some way, among other things.  Being free from much of this internal dialogue allowed me to remain nonreactive and avoid getting hooked into his demands and abuse.  That is what helped me to make sense of the situation I was in and remain nonreactive to his duping delight.

Probably only a victim of a psychopath is able to fully understand this post. Those who have never experienced this kind of addiction will likely see nothing more than words. But these are not hollow words.

This is a perspective of one survivor; the following text describes only my feelings. It is crucial to remember that everyone can have different feelings, and my methods do not have to be effective for everyone. I do not claim that we all feel the same way. I only want to share my experience.

Being addicted to a psychopath was a real nightmare for me. That addiction was no different from the other types of addictions. Today when I remember how I felt in the past I compare it to a heroin addiction because it was very strong and devastating.

The relationship with a psychopathic individual at the beginning was wonderful, perfect, like in a fairytale. He did not leave my side, he was around all the time, and when he was away he was sending me messages or calling me. I felt him in everything. I was surrounded by him all day and all night. I fell asleep thinking about him and I woke up thinking about him. He was waking me up with a text message, we used to spend all of the days together, and when I was falling asleep he was next to me. From the first day I met him, I didn’t have either time nor space for others. He was my entire world. The world was only him and me, the two of us, lovebirds, soul mates, made for each other.