Jo, a very good friend of mine who has been through a similar story as me, except that she was married to the fanatic and he was not a psychopath in the same sense as Sam, wrote to me about the fatigue I feel. She is also a writer, so we have a lot of things in common and she has been a good supporter through these years. She has occasionally sent me small wrapped gifts, and when it was at its worst for me then I would start trying to fend for myself in a new place and new apartment, they came almost every day. I was shaking when I opened them, and cried rivers of her concern. Så var det. There were such strong feelings in me, of abandonment, of vulnerability, of fear – ja, fear of never being able to take me back. It was about five- six years ago and still several years left until everything came up in court. I'm so grateful for how she managed to keep me up through some terribly hard days, weeks, months with their small gifts. It could be a used eye shadow that she did not use herself, but it could also be a flower check, or a ring she found at a flea market, or a small box she found at the bottom of a box. It could even be brand new garments, because she happened to get two when she sent for, or perfume samples, and even a whole bottle of perfume – which I still spray on myself every night because it's caring, warm, soft, tender.
She wrote to me the other day that ” he tried to kill you”… so it was no wonder I'm exhausted after the long battle. And that's actually true. He was trying to get me to kill myself. He put me in increasing panic and more and more behind bars while he peppered my brain with all his words – and of course did not intend to save me, and of course saw how I was torn apart, of course saw how the initially proud and rather cocky woman who did not want him became a leaf in his hands, depending on every word he said, put in fear. So do psychopaths. And my friend is right. I myself have told others, but no one has said that to me. Detta: so do psychopaths. They plow down, they crush, they run out of the victim's all possibilities and all room for maneuver and then they go. It's a relief for them if their victims just mess up. Their victims de facto not infrequently take their lives later. Or perishes by general… downfall. But then the perpetrator is already far away and human death can not be linked to him / her.. though it is a consequence of his / her deed.
It is mostly men who take their own lives after being exposed. They are most exposed by women.
Ja, so it's not so strange that I'm tired but it's hard, for my head has ideas and I want to implement them and a thousand other things, but the power does not yet exist. All the ideas live in my head but then I become completely dull, when to write it. Det är , have taught me, one of the most demanding cognitively, to write. There is so much to keep track of, one uses the functions of the brain in so many different ways. It does not really want to. It says ” but soft! I just want to hang out, relax and have it cozy now!”
I was so sure that it would be possible to continue to get ahead, straight in the back and with the gaze eagerly fixed on the horizon, take back all my routines and make me strong and brilliant and just keep writing – and make money. Så är det inte.
But thanks to the psychologist, which I FINALLY got to meet ( THANK YOU The mall, which is the only health center that has taken my need seriously and started acting immediately) I know I have to take this rest , in order not to risk going into the wall, seriously. And it's nothing to play with. People throw the phrase around a bit carelessly, but when it really happens, many people never get up again. Fatigue cannot be rested. What would life be worth then?
Nej, he will not win. I thought the battle was over, but it is not. I have not managed to recover. Eller ” retake ” is the wrong word… I do not want to recover. I want to a new place with all of me, whole again. I have come SO far. Not so long ago, it was as if life took place on the other side of a tall glass plate. It was on the other side, lush, ymningt, lush and there were all the friends and everyone I love. We could see each other, they could see me and thought I was there, on their side, in life, but I was not there. I was on the other side of the glass plate. Extremely afraid of never being able to take me over it. I remember when I, about two years after I reported , that is, five years ago, sat with my talk therapist and could tell, with hesitation, men ändå; ” it feels like i'm now on the edge of the glass plate. I balance on the narrow edge. At least I got there.” Then I did not know if I could get down on the living side again, in i livet, the life that is just without being questioned. But I could. And then you forget it. You forget, and luckily it is.
No matter what, everything is evolving. I have really matured during this time. It is not at all important for me to appear as something at all. Before, I had certain expectations of being strong just because the most despicable thing was to be weak and needy.. Always strong. Never weak. Now I have turned over in the other direction and do not keep quiet about anything at all and am like a mollusk, constantly in need, shouting, hallå, hallå! It will be very difficult for the relatives. But right what it is, the pendulum will probably end up right again.
My friend said I'm like the goat her dog chased around the house. The dog stopped running but the goat ran around the house anyway – several more laps. The danger no longer exists, but I'm running anyway.
People sometimes ask if I think about everything I've missed over the years. That's a painful question. But it is also misconceived. I do not know what I have missed. When you ask such questions, you always compare with the very best you can dream of. Like I met a wonderful man, started making good money, been able to do yours and hers and started to look like different monthly magazines' home reports of pecuniary successful people with a cuddle factor. But I might have gone to Uruguay or New York and been stuffed in a trunk and cut! Or just had it very boring in general. I might have walked there over Medborgarplatsen and tried to look busy for ten years, though nothing in particular happened and was cemented in an idea of myself. That would be terribly boring. Things HAVE HAPPENED! Pretty exciting stuff! I did not know that I would get to know such a person! Such a colorful crazy man! And that I would end up in a trial in Stockholm City Hall. And that I would WIN a lawsuit against a psychopath – ” psykopat”, something I had no idea what it could mean, before it happened. That I should learn that everyone can be manipulated and crushed, not least if you are already shaken because your father has suddenly died and your role in life has changed when you lost a parent and your youngest has moved. It's LIFE. It's almost Greek drama! It is fantastically dramaturgically laid out. I had never been able to figure it out!
To be tamed with that man! It was not a bore in any case. Dangerous, but I did not understand that in the meantime. VERY DANGEROUS, men som sagt, a person I have dealt with, which I myself sometimes managed to confuse, even I could pull threads and manipulate back because I saw through him- but not enough because I did not in any way sense the depth of hand evil and his plan. He lived in my home, slept a few feet from my room and I HANDLED him all the time, even though I had ultimately lost, but I had no idea what the fight was about.
Och nu! Now I have ended up in a very nice place with so many fun and dear neighbors. And the forest! I have been able to discover the forest that is right next to Stockholm, which before were only distant spruce tops in a great darkness. I know all the ways, the ladders, – no no one does, but I trudge around in the woods because I'm in it now and I can sing in it, I can rest in it, dance in it, laugh at it, run around in it and play with my dogs. Everywhere here where I live, people smile, they say hello on the sidewalks, you stop and chat, you almost never get home if you go out! The neighbors shout at each other, it's a joke and a joke.
Not to mention all the kind-hearted people who have heard of the book and the people I have been able to HELP with thanks to the book! Massor! It's absolutely wonderful. I have been able to help LOTS OF PEOPLE with the book! Because he was sitting there staring into my eyes and forcing me to listen and getting tired and confused. I won, I swung over all these hours, days, months, år. I swung over it and ended up in a big wonderful friendly forest and have been able to help LOTS of people thanks to his abuse.
I have been able to reveal mechanisms, been able to tell from the victim's point of view, which is very important – it is easy to talk about how psychopaths act but we must also understand how healthy people who fall victim to them react to the unknown behavior to which they are exposed. It is very important!
nej, so I can not say that I regret these years, so to speak. how to now ” Undo” that one suffers from unfortunate circumstances. No one says that to someone who happened to be late in the morning because the shaver was faulty and the shoes were not tied up and because he lay for too long and read an exciting book and because of all this for which he himself is responsible., was delayed which caused him to be hit by a car and off his leg; ” you regret that you did not clean the shaver, tied up your shoes and read so long the night before you were late and therefore got off for this particular truck?” when he tries out his prosthesis to bravely move on?
You get to see things in perspective.
And what is life? Life is a way to learn a lot of different things, what it's like to be human?
Men visst! I've lost a LOT. Massor! But there is no point in thinking about that. LOTS of opportunities. Ok, but then it was so then. Maybe I won something too! We value and miscalculate sometimes when we look at our existence and it easily leads to bitterness. Som sagt, one must see things with perspective.
For my part, I'm glad I have my limbs. My body is whole. The brain is slightly broken, the psychologist says that it is probably years of such a terribly high stress surcharge, but it can be healed. I'm trying to do that now.
I'm trying to tell myself that everything's fine now, hela tiden. My highest stress surcharge now is money. He took all the reserves and the years that disappeared I have not been able to produce, which a writer must do all the time. Every little helps. But I tell myself that not even THAT ( reella ) the worry should worry me. It may not be real. It may also be a misconception, which is only a direct consequence of conventional thought patterns. Men en sak är säker! If I do not rest, there will definitely be no income, for it does not happen if you just lie down and do not have the strength to do anything ever again, no matter how much you want.
Everything will be alright. I'm enjoying my candlestick. Of simple things. Friends, barn, blommor. village.
Lots of rest. But I'll probably write some blogs anyway, because it's BORING at the same time not to write! And I know that … which makes me HAPPY… that quite a few actually WANT me to write blogs sometimes! Thanks for that!
Hi hop on is, alla.
