Tags
Abuse, crazy-making behaviour, Domestic Violence, dysfunctional relationships, Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Psychological Abuse, Narcissism, Passive Aggression, Psychology, Relationship abuse, Relationship Problems, Relationships, Spiritual Wounds, Spirituality, Verbal Abuse
Please note: I have referred to abusers as male and their targets as female, simply because it has been my subjective experience and I write from my phenomenological perspective. I would like to highlight the fact that abusers and their victims do not fit neatly into gender-based categories. Men are just as easily victims and women are just as easily perpetrators.
My ex-abuser asks himself the question of why he was attracted to two nutcases; two sick and twisted women. The first part of my answer is simple. I am, most assuredly, not a nutcase. That’s simply a facet of his delusion.
The second part of my answer is more complicated. Yes, I am a wounded spirit. I have yet to meet a human being, over the age of forty, who doesn’t fit this definition. Life batters us, we get up and keep moving forward; we make a fist of it, and succeed in varying degrees. But we are all wounded.
It’s true I was wounded in a particular way, which abusers seem to zoom in on. They detect victims of childhood abuse with a radar-sense a bent-wing bat would be proud of. But why? And here’s his answer. Because we’re easy targets for further abuse. Let’s read that again…’because we’re easy targets for further abuse.’
Does this mean we’re weak? No. In fact, we need to be incredibly strong just to survive. Are we sick? No. But we’ve had sick acts perpetrated against us; and that makes us vulnerable to further sick acts, emotional, psychological, physical and sexual, depending on the penchant of our particular abuser. The developmental damage done in early childhood is particularly recalcitrant and can, at best, be managed. It is rarely expunged completely. Our boundaries have been severely damaged and are more permeable than they should be.
Are we capable of rage? You bet. To express rage in the face of such severe mistreatment is a normal, healthy response, one that was silenced when we were children – a protective defense mechanism that we should never be shamed for. But we are, of course, shamed for it; it is twisted and used against us as a justification for all the crazy labels our abuser uses to define us. This is another reason we’re chosen. Those without significant abuse in their past would simply walk away, having a healthy self-belief nurtured into being during their developing years. They know they don’t have to stay and’ take it’.
Inside every victim of childhood abuse is a tiny wounded child who desperately wants to defend herself against the harm she was unable to defend against as an infant. She wants to step up and protect the sad and frightened inner child. We do this in various ways, all of which are attractive to our abusers. Some of us plead for understanding and love, hoping to recreate a loving bond with the adult who hurt us, and who is represented by the current abuser; thereby healing the wound. Narcissistic abusers interpret this as weak and pathetic, justifying their treatment of us. They don’t see a precious human being who is crying out for love and care. They see a pathetic, sick, twisted thing who isn’t strong enough to stand up to them.
Inside every adult survivor of childhood abuse, there lives a tiny, wounded child, crying out for help.
Some of us challenge the maltreatment dished out to us. This enrages our abuser even more. How dare someone thwart the will of one who perceives himself as the center of the universe, whose needs will always trump ours, whose wisdom is always greater and whose intellect is always superior? How dare we? At this point, all restraint will leave a narcissistic mind as it batters us into submission. It matters little whether the battering is verbal, emotional or physical. The impact on us is the same. We are confused, frightened (just like when we were little), without any defense against the onslaught because there is no defense against lying, manipulation, gaslighting, labeling, defining, deceit and other crazy-making behaviors. There is no defense against passive aggression. There is no defense against irrationality…and it is all irrational.
Once again we become a perfect target, an easy target. Instead of walking away from the relationship, we are challenging our abuser the way we wanted to challenge the abuser of our childhood. We were silenced then and we’ll be damned if we’ll be silenced now.
One of the main aims of abusers is to ‘silence’ their victims, leaving us voiceless and without a means of escape.
But what are the shared characteristics of people ‘chosen’ by abusers? Why ‘us’, as my ex-husband asks, albeit in a convoluted way?
I expect most of us are sensitive. Every nerve-ending was lit on fire all those years ago. We will never forget; we remain sensitive not just to further wounding of ourselves but also to the possibility of hurt in our fellow human beings. There is often a melting compassion at the heart of victims of abuse – we can’t abide the thought of another human being crushed by pain.
I expect many of us want to show abundant love and caring because we were so bereft of it ourselves as children.
I expect many of us have calm exteriors from years of practice at being ‘unseen’ and ‘good’ so that our childhood abusers will leave us alone. I expect many of us have developed an attitude of humility, having been brought so far down into the depths of depravity that we have no illusions about the human condition.
I expect many of us are practiced ‘deep processors’. Having had to face our problems alone, analyze them alone and make sense of the world alone, with our dark secrets safely hidden from view, we are likely to be introspective; deep thinkers who are largely disinterested in superficial pursuits.
I expect many of us have a strongly developed morality, having been so profoundly violated in our pasts. A strong sense of morality helps make the world a safe and decent place for us. We cling to it like a life-raft.
I expect many of us have developed a strong spiritual core, having spent so many years calling out to God, the universe, the Great I Am, to keep us safe, to remove our pain and to heal our broken hearts and spirits.
I know that all of these qualities attracted my husband during our days of courtship. In fact, he was intoxicated by them; rapidly and passionately… until they became the very qualities he most despised about me, seeking, at every opportunity, to destroy those very aspects.
So that is why he was attracted to two women with wounded spirits – both wounded in similar ways in our childhoods. He smelt us out because we filled a deep need inside him to tear apart a vulnerable human being. Women, and men, who have not been through childhood abuse, would simply walk away.
THAT IS WHY WE WERE CHOSEN.
It is not an answer he would wish to hear.
When I met my partner fifteen years ago she was in a bind. Her former relationship with an alcoholic had failed. They had two children of seven and nine they were fighting for custody over. Not having a permanent home – she had left the house they shared – it was a very difficult time for her. I could empathise. Yet, over time, I began to harbour thoughts that maybe she shouldn’t have left their two children with a man she could no longer bear to live with herself.
Like me, she’d had an overbearing parent who abused her physically and psychologically. Hers was her mother, who resorted to severe physical abuse at times. Her father had abandoned her brother and she when they were young children. Her mother took up with a series of other men, some of whom also abused her. Nevertheless, we had many great times together, as we shared many interests along with a similar sense of humour. Sharing problems brought us closer together, despite the fact most of them were hers. Something that didn’t matter to me, as my time would come. And come it did.
Over the next few years I helped her fight various legal battles, and to take care of the children. Having been illegally evicted, we finally managed to secure a permanent home after six years of fighting through the courts. Those years were hard, meaning I understood the toll it must have taken on her. But throughout those years I firmly believed her passive aggressiveness would cease once we had a permanent place of our own. I thought the pressure of the problems made her that way. Once they were solved life would become easier.
Both of us are artists, she is a painter, and I am a writer. We are both immigrants. Though circumstances were difficult, I managed to get some work done at the same time as helping her with hers, as I had studied art and practiced as a freelance graphic designer. But, whereas she was established in our adopted country, being a recent arrival, I was not. Life is not easy for artists, and it was easier for me to help her with her work than the other way round. Even then, some of my journalistic work was occasionally published by a leading newspaper, and there was quite a lot interest in my fictional work. Nevertheless, prevailing circumstances dictated that we’d be better of financially if I looked after the children a good deal of the time. The problem became that both parents seemed to have more important things to do, even when I had things to do.
We’ve now been living in our permanent home for more than six years. She still forgets to pay bills, even after being reminded several times. The bank where they are paid is less than a minute’s walk from her workplace. It’d take me almost thirty minutes to get there and back, something I did regularly, when we lived even farther away. Though phone and electricity get cut off fewer times, the last time was when I had to leave the country for the funeral of a family member. And that was despite me leaving the money for it.
I’ve always led a fairly insecure existence, so I can live with a fair amount of disorder, but there are times we all have to make compromises in a healthy relationship. I had to make huge compromises and sacrifices at the start of our relationship. After all, I didn’t have any children, and I certainly wasn’t the one with a former partner intent on making life difficult.
Often, I’d only be told about the children coming to stay the morning they arrived. I was never consulted by either parent. Most times I wasn’t told until the final moment. I was just expected to look after them.
The last few years I have tried to talk about my concerns in what I thought as a constructive a manner as possible, but she always ends up saying it goes on too long. She has a point, but then she rarely answers questions with a straight answer, preferring to deflect from, or change, the subject. She constantly interrupts, walks out the room, or starts something that involves turning her back on me. Even when we do talk she nearly always ends up talking about herself.
Though I try to bring the subject up on countless occasions, I always end up feeling that my concerns were being trivialised. The facial expressions and dismissive gestures became ever more provocative. She always has a reason or an excuse for everything. The forgetfulness continues.
Finally, the combined stress of ten years of insecurity, fighting legal cases and being subjected to passive aggressive behaviour resulted in a heart attack four years ago. Within ten days of being discharged from hospital I attempted to take my own life, by swilling a large number of pills with whisky and getting on a bus without telling her I was leaving. Obviously, I survived, but she is in total denial about the event. Whatever she thinks happened, she should at least accept I must’ve have been in great distress. But no.
And it goes on. Now, I have stomach ulcers, but she continues to play the victim.
I don’t expect any answers, I just hope my experiences will help someone to understand that they’re not alone.
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Dear Bryan. It’s late here in Oz and I’m in a lot of pain from my chronic illness, so am not equipped at this moment to answer your absolutely heartrending story. But your story deserves, and needs, to be addressed. I know I have much to say, but can’t articulate it until I’ve had a good night’s sleep. You have suffered much…far, far, far too much. It is beyond what any human being should suffer; and believe me, I know. You’re so articulate and a gifted communicator – I can only imagine the pain you’re in, being of the same ilk, I think. Let me get back to you tomorrow. I won’t rest easy until I do. I always wake in the wee hours, frequently anxious, and try to pray for the many people I know who are suffering so much. I’ll pray for you, too…but please don’t be put off. I’m not a religious nut, but sometimes, when I can’t actively help, prayer is all that’s left to me. I hope you don’t mind.
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I was very moved by your swift reply to my comment, as I’ve never reached out before, partly because I wish my partner no real ill.
Her actions show that she suffered enough throughout her childhood, which was pretty miserable from what she has told me. I can empathise with her, simply because my own childhood was dominated by an overbearing alcoholic father, who took most of his anger out on me, one way or another. Even then, I feel her childhood suffering was worse than mine.
Bearing her in mind, I feel that maybe I’d prefer my comment to be made anonymous, if that’s possible, simply for the reason that I am not too hard to find on the net because of articles of mine that have been published and linked to by various sources. Through me it is also easy to find her as she has an internet presence.
Having said that, I do want others to know they are not alone. Your response is encouraging me to write a article on my own experiences, many of which I recorded in the diaries I kept for thirty years, as sources of reference for my writing. I only stopped a few years ago, when I found I could no longer bear to read the ones from the last ten or so years, when researching for articles. There were just too many painful memories to re-live. I have had it in mind for some years, but have always thought I might come over as too bitter, which I don’t think would help anyone.
Thank you again, just reading your reply gave me a tremendous lift, especially as you made a real effort, despite your own condition and suffering. Your effort was not in vain.
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Hi Bryan, and thank you for getting back to me. I know what it feels like to be finally ‘heard’ and yes, it’s rare, sadly. When we’re in situations like this, we are so very isolated. I’m working on how to make your comment anonymous and haven’t figured it out from my end just yet. I’ve just had a look at your web presence, and wow, I can’t wait to be an avid follower but can’t find your private contact info, otherwise I’d have put this in a private message to you. I understand your need to be anonymous, but at this stage, I have no clue how to achieve that from my end. What I’ll do for now is to unapprove your comments after having copied and pasted them into a Word document so that we can access them again soon…when one of us figures out how to achieve the anonymity thing. It’s a real issue when talking about certain subjects and the higher our profile as writers, the more diligent we need to be. I hope you’re happy with my part-time solution. I’m open to suggestions. I’ve had a pretty big day and will be heading to bed soon. Hopefully, I’ll awake with more brainpower in the morning. My sincere apologies. Honestly, my health issue is also one that no-one understands and it keeps me incredibly isolated. Yet, I know I have a jolly good purpose in life, and won’t be thwarted…very bloody slow, perhaps (that’s the Aussie in me) but definitely not thwarted.
I feel you really have a very giving nature and, because of your own experiences growing up, have enormous amounts of empathy and patience. Sadly, not all who go through traumatic childhood experiences choose this route. It seems to me that your partner may well have chosen (and it’s always a choice, once we enter adulthood) to ‘grab back’ what she can from life, projecting onto you so much of her childhood experience, while not equally acknowledging your own. We can choose to act as ‘adults’ or as ‘children’. I understand that you feel her experiences are far more traumatic than your own…but at some point…with you by her side…she either chooses to become a balanced and loving human being; or she chooses to perpetuate the cycle.
I’m not young. I’m 57, and have not always chosen wisely. Mostly, like you, I’ve found myself in situations with people for whom I have the utmost empathy, because of their past pain. Yet, I’ve not been met halfway. Not even close. I’ve worked on my issues; learned to communicate logically, rationally, and compassionately…only to be met with vitriol and cruelty. It concerns me that you seem to be very much in the same space.
So, I’ll sign off for now. I’ll ‘unapprove’ your previous comments, although I may not be able to both unapprove your last comment and still get this response to you. I’ll let my reply to you stand for now but will blot it out once you’ve received it, always preserving a copy on my hard-drive. I do have a contact form on this site. If you’d like to use that instead of the comments section in order to remain anonymous, please do so. Or you can reach me at … writingdownunder@gmail.com.
Bless.
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Thank you for this. You took the words right out of my mouth. I’ve been in an abusive relationship for the past 2 years and I am still fighting to leave. I hope one day I’ll be okay.
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I cried because it’s too damn relatable…I wonder if that God exists though …My love to your beautiful being… Thankyou angel
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Let those tears flow. They’re so healing, even when they’re unwelcome. I remember, all too well, being in floods of tears when I recognized myself in other people’s writings and felt a connection; an understanding; and an empathy I hadn’t felt before. There is something quite cataclysmic in moments like these; moments that rock our souls.
Your question about whether God exists is part of my daily struggle to keep seeking the truth. I doubt our minds can fathom it, to be honest. What I do know for certain is that when I accept God’s existence and live my life in connection with the Great I Am, I am happier. The anxiety that has plagued me all my life dissipates. The nightmares end. And peace seeps into every fibre of my being.
My love to your beautiful being also. I am so touched by your words.
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Excellent post 🌹🌷💕🐇
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Thank you. I love your work too…and draw much inspiration from it.
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I am a nutcase. I was a pillar of the community, I went to church, I was respected by people at my children’s school. I drove the speed limit then years of gas lighting and domestic terrorism led to my unraveling. I should pen a book, Nutcase No More. It is classic projection. Your post is well written and spot on. Too bad we can’t make it past 40 before experience transforms us. I hope you are healing and doing well.
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Well, fellow nutcase, I like having you around. 🙂 And I definitely think you should pen that book – it’s a great title…people would be hooked by it. You certainly have the required ‘oomph’ as evidenced by those posts of yours I always rush to read. I was over 50 before I came to my senses and began to trust my own reality again. It’s still a struggle at times; one step forward and two back occasionally, but mostly the progress is steadily forward. I was triggered by a television program last night, which led to a meltdown, which then led to a relapse of my chronic illness – but I’m using it as a therapeutic process and am currently writing a piece on it. I hope you’re healing well also. This blog community has been a wonderful support.
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Hello Miss Min, the blogging community has been wonderful support, I hope you recover for your setback and return to the forward road of healing. It is the nature of the beast isn’t it? Two steps forward and three or four sometimes, steps back. Thank you for your kind words and enthusiasm for my work, writing is for me primarily a therapeutic process. I wish you all the best and look forward to reading your next post.
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Pretty pathetic for the abusers-calling their chosen spouses “nutcases”…they have no idea that whatever they see in the spouse is their creation. My abuser drove at least two women before me to nervous breakdowns…maybe wounded before he got hold of them, but torn completely apart after his contribution!
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It’s actually criminal as far as I’m concerned. My abuser’s first wife suicided…the ultimate act…she turned all her pain and anger on herself when it should have been unleashed on him. Naturally, he sees himself as a long-suffering saint; no doubt yours feels the same way. They are so completely blind to the atrocities they perpetrate on the human spirit of those they’re supposed to love. Despicable. I hope and pray that your healing continues.
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Sadly, coming out of this type of abuse gives complete understanding and an intolerance for evil. So thankful for finding support so quickly…I have a soul sister survivor in wife number one, as he actually held a gun to her head…gee, and he called her”crazy”???
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I can hear the pity story in my head: “Poor me”, says the narcissist. “I need a loving woman like you by my side to help me heal from the grief of losing my first wife. It was such a shock when she died. I had no idea that she was so unhappy with her life. We had the perfect marriage.”
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Lol…you must be psychic! Playing the Martyr is his preferred role in life. I have no doubt he’s playing the same tune to someone else now. The story will be slightly changed now – the grieving widower who was ‘got at’ by a crazy money-grubbing second wife. 🙂
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