After the sociopath is gone: From grief to falling in love.
PDF Every other week I participate in a ‘one word’ blog carnival. This week’s word was ‘grief’.
Grief. A tiny word. Five letters. ‘i’ before ‘e’. A story of precedence. What comes before grief? Love. Friendship. Familiarity. Hope. A belief in tomorrow. A belief in another day. A better day. A different time. A time for endless hello’s to fill our day with promise. A time to love.
And then death sweeps in and robs us of that time. That moment. Those endless hellos punctuated by good-byes that do not mean, never more, but rather, until later, until we meet again, until the next time.
In death’s embrace we fall and grieve for the one who was lost, for what was lost, for time lost and never to be recaptured.
In grief there is no next time. No better time. No later. Grief consumes all time and steals all hope of a better tomorrow.
Grief.
When love ends, we grieve. We grieve the passing of what could have been, should have been, might have been, if only. We search for ways to give meaning to our pain, to explain the sometimes inexplicable causes leading to loves demise. Sometimes, we talk it out. We make arrangements on how to separate, how to divide loves spoils, how to survive loves loss. We draw up agreements, outline custody and visitation arrangements. We divvy up assets and liabilities, arrange for payment. We divorce and move on with our lives, sometimes poorer but always richer in experience.
When we have loved an abuser, love cannot die. Love never existed. There was no mutual agreement to love honestly, truthfully, respectfully. There was only the abuser’s mask hiding his or her intent to deceive. There was only the lie we did not know existed.
In love’s vanishing out the door slamming behind their last words, we hang our hopes on one more chance to say, ‘good-bye’. On one more time to see their face, hear their voice, be in the presence of the love we believed to be true.
In our grief we plead for one last time. We pray, he will return. We pray, he or she, the one we loved, will come back if only to give us a chance to secure the elusive closure our empty arms yearn for. We want to say good-bye on our terms. We want to have the last word, to make them hear us, see us, feel our pain, witness our anguish. We want to know they understand the harm their passing through our lives has caused. We want them to ‘see’ how much we love in the hopes that the one we loved, the one we believed to be true, will return. We want one more chance. One more time. One more good-bye.
And so we plead with time to give us this one last chance so that we can come to terms with their good-bye. So that we can steal the time to learn to grieve on our terms.
And that is the lie we tell time. Give us a chance and we will make them hear us, just this once, so we can grieve freely.
It never happens. It can’t. Because grieving an abuser is the greatest betrayal of all. In having loved a lie, we can never grieve what never was.
With our empty arms and broken dreams, we must give into grief and mourn for the one who was lost. The woman who was abused. The woman who was lost. The woman who fell. The woman who was betrayed and who betrayed herself. We must mourn for the one we must love the most. Ourselves.
Once upon a time I loved a man who was untrue. He never really existed, though I searched for him between the lines he spoke that were all lies. Between the pages of my journal where I wrote of love ever lasting and promises of happily-ever after. I searched for him in every nook and cranny of my mind, desperately trying to make real the unreal. To make sense of the nonsense that was his passing through my life. I searched and held onto the hope that the pain, the turmoil, the sorrow was all a lie and he would turn up and be true.
It never happened. It couldn’t. He was the lie.
And in my facing the truth of his deceit, I grieved. I grieved for the dream that could never be, the love that never was. I grieved for the woman who was abused. The woman who lost herself in the arms of an abuser. I grieved for the pain she endured, the pain she caused. I grieved and cried and wished and hoped and prayed upon every star that the pain would cease, the tears would dry up and my heart would be healed. I prayed for the past to be erased. The lies to be vanished. The horror to be undone.
Nothing can undo the past. There is nothing that can be changed in yesterday.
Grieving a love that never was is part of the illusion of loving an abuser. We look for meaning in our memories and come up empty.
On either side of grief is love.
Grieving for the woman who lost herself in the arms of an abuser, set me free to fall into the arms of love.
In grieving for all that was lost, all that was forgotten on the stormy waters of his lies, I embraced all that was possible when I set myself free to sail upon the sea of love that surrounds me, sustains me, and lifts me up.
Love has no limits. Love knows no bounds. Love is my answer.
Stand in love. Grow in love. Be love.
In mourning for the one who lost herself in the arms of a man who was untrue, I found myself. I found myself and fell in love with all that I can be when I set myself free to live this one wild and precious life free to be all I am when I let go of grief and fall… in love.
written by M.L. Gallagher • Permalink •
ElizabethBennett says:
Star-I would love to see Adam Sandler’s astrology. I love him. I agree with what you said also about Libras being into the masculine traits in relationship to the woman. She appears to be taken with the way that I treat her. It’s the masculine side of me. Like that night I brought her in from the rain and how I help her out of the car when her knee is bothering her, and other things that guys tend to go to be gentlemen. She is responding to that by opening up to me and wanting to be in my presence more. The last time we went out it was the first time she looked really happy since I’ve known her.
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Stargazer says:
Liz, I read that in Japan, there are bars where women dress up as men and actually flirt and act play the role of the gentleman for women. These women are not gay; they are just tired of being treated as objects by men.
I will look for the link and post it for Adam Sandler. I wish I could post the whole thing here, but it would probably offend someone. lol
Hmm, I tried to post the link twice for Adam Sandler’s astrology but the post disappeared twice. I’ll try it here:
http://www.mmnet.com/HyperNews/get/humor/45.html
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Stargazer says:
Here you go, Liz:
http://www.mmnet.com/HyperNews/get/humor/45.html
Enjoy! I die laughing every time I read the Libra one because there is a grain of truth in it!
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Stargazer says:
Here is the link to Adam Sandlers astrology. Enjoy! I just posted it but my post disappeared…
http://www.mmnet.com/HyperNews/get/humor/45.html
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Stargazer says:
ha ha I tried to post the link three times for Adam Sandler’s astrology, and the post got deleted as spam. In fact, my last post also got deleted because I tried to put it there. So just google Adam Sandler Astrology.
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ElizabethBennett says:
OMG-the Adam Sandler horoscopes are freakin hilarious. I laughed so hard I started crying and almost peed in my pants!
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Stargazer says:
I know, isn’t the Libra one great?
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ElizabethBennett says:
yeah it is although my girl wouldn’t think so maybe. It is so NOT her. The LEO one is my favorite though. My mentor is a leo and I’ll have to show her that.
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panther says:
I woke up in tears this morning. Then I managed to stumble upon the right article again.
I hate being so fragile! I wish the crying would stop for good. I was trying to articulate the very words written in this article to a good friend of mine. It was hard. I was trying to explain that I am grieving the loss of the love of my life while simultaneously dealing with the shock and pain that the love of my life never existed and had actually set out to hurt and betray me. It’s such an absurd situation that it ends up as a cocktail of loss and emotion. My head gets spinning because the whole situation just seems so surreal. It would be easier if he had just died before I knew the truth, and if I had never known the truth. The truth is too much right now.
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panther says:
The song of the past week for me. I thought probably a lot of people in here can probably relate to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dfd5opfM4XI
This is the K’s Choice version. Some people prefer Skunk Anansie. I like K’s Choice’s style better.
Okay, enjoy.
Oh, here are the lyrics:
“Weak”
Lost in time I can`t count the words
(I) said when I thought they went unheard
All of those harsh thoughts so unkind
`Cause I wanted you
(And) now I sit here I`m all alone
So here sits a bloody mess, tears fly home
A circle of angels, deep in war
`Cause I wanted you
Weak as I am, no tears for you
Weak as I am, no tears for you
Deep as I am, I`m no ones fool
Weak as I am
So what am I now I’m loves last home
I`m all of the soft words I once owned
If I opened my heart, there`d be no space for air
`Cause I wanted you
In this tainted soul
In this weak young heart
Am I too much for you
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Constantine says:
Dear Panther,
The lead vocalist is very cute – she’s my kind of girl!
Sorry to hear that you still feel so teary and beaten up – that will pass in a few months. Just “keep on truckin’” in the meantime. Besides, at your age, you still have ample time for at least three or four more “loves of your life”!
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panther says:
Constantine! What would I need three or four more for? I would prefer just ONE in his right mind over the whole herd.
I am truly talented at selecting crazy men, so I was thinking I should get a job as a “find the crazy person in the crowd” specialist. Just put me in a room full of them. I can tell you which one is nuts. He’ll be the one I feel an urge to talk to. (Skylar’s explanation about German Shepherds getting excited seeing another German Shepherd makes sense, since my father is a P. These wackos register as “familiar” to me.)
I also have this talent for finding the most expensive ANYTHING in a store. You could show me 50 pairs of shoes without their price tags in view. The pair I like will coincidentally be the most expensive pair.
It’s a backhanded gift, I think.
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skylar says:
hi panther,
I can relate to your expensive shoe selection. Me too.
It seems that I always pick out the most expensive anything.
As far as picking out crazy men, THEY PICK ME. I’ll just be sitting alone at a restaurant, and they feel compelled to talk to me. I remembere one time, after such an incident, I came home exasperated. I said to spath, “what is it about me that attracts freaks?!!”
He just sat there, with no comment. Must’ve been thinking about it though.
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panther says:
Well, Sky, it could very well be that they do pick me, and I end up thinking it was my idea. The last spath was part of the double spath combo move, so he actually had selected me before I even knew he existed. I am a sucker for pretty eyes and eye contact, and spaths have that in excess. And testosterone. I noticed (and then researched this to learn it is true) that while I was on birth control, I was attracted to more “masculine” men, aka men with more testosterone. Ironically, I was on bc with almost every spath AND I had a coil in for the entire time during my most recent relationship with one. Within 2 months of taking the coil out, I broke up with him and went NC! It could be coincidence, but it’s an interesting coincidence, still.
It doesn’t matter who picks who, really. I was too easily made “at ease” around these types because I had been around a P male since birth. Freud would have a heyday with this, bleh.
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