This is my first post after reading the excellent book Psychopath Free. My story isn't unique, although it has a few twists that make it particularly heinous. You see, after 21 years of blissful marriage, my beloved husband died of sudden cardiac arrest, right in front of me. I wasn't able to save him, and the guilt, grief and loneliness nearly drove me to suicide. Despite that, my inherent strength, love of my family, courage and belief that God had something better in store for me kept me going.
It was the awful loneliness that tripped me up: In order to meet new people, I posted on Match, making it CLEAR that I was a recent widow and only looking for a friend. Well, up popped a dream man: handsome, fit, outdoorsy, a sailor, and a successful physician. In the small coastal community where I live, this was an impossibility: an amazing eligible man, just like that!
M and I went on a few friendly dates: hikes, a glass of wine after work, etc. I had never met a more sweet, self-effacing, gentlemanly and seemingly harmless guy in my life. Being a physician, he had a Zen-like aura of caring, calm and 'I'll take care of you" -- catnip to my wounded heart. He listened to me more than any man I've ever known. No detail was too small and weeks later he'd repeat the tiniest thing I'd said to him, making me feel so special. M possessed every facet of my prince charming. He was a family practitioner in the town where he'd grown up, and he knew everyone in the community. Everywhere we went, people showed respect and affection for "Dr. M." I found this small-town doctor noble and admirable. M was a talented artist, whose grandfather's art hung in museums. M's dad was a renowned scientist, and M was Ivy League-educated. He was a tremendous sailor and had designed and built 7 sailboats, including his current 31-ft. ketch. M was tall, in incredible shape for his age (late 50s), blue-eyed, handsome and the strongest man I'd ever met. In short, HE WAS PERFECT!
After four dates, I invited M. to dinner at my house. He was the soul of chivalry, arriving with wine, bread and flowers. My dog and cat (who hates everyone) were smitten. M came into the house with an air of assurance, as if he already owned the place. But no arrogance -- oh, no, that was not M's modus operandi. He favored shy, quiet, sensitive, charmingly eccentric and cerebral; a man who NEVER would harm a woman. Dinner was amazing: I heard tales of his days at Dartmouth. I learned about his 16-year-old son G. M and G's mom had been divorced 4 years, so I had no worries that he still carried a torch for his ex-wife. He mentioned one relationship between his ex-wife and me, but didn't dwell on it. All good signs!
That evening on the couch, I sat close enough to M to feel his body heat and that Zen aura, and to smell his intoxicating scent. That was it. I WAS HOOKED!!!! I melted when he touched me, rubbing my temples as if to hypnotize me. He was quite shy about initiating our first kiss and was the perfect gentlemen. But from that moment, all pretense of "friends" went out the window.
We started a torrid, deeply romantic relationship. Never in my LIFE had I experienced such sex! The man was a stallion, always ready, always amazing. He carried me up the staircase to bed on more than one occasion. But I noticed a strange thing: after incredible sex, he'd emotionally and physically pull away, as if he were escaping to another planet. "Oh, well, he's a guy, that will pass,” I thought. The physical pull-away eventually passed; the emotional pull-away never did. In fact, many months later, I remember begging for a kind word after sex. "At least say, 'Good dog'," I'd joke, but with no smile on my face.
The day after we became sexually intimate, M gave me "the talk" about his romantic past. Turns out his ex-girlfriend, R, wasn't so harmless after all. She was a psycho. Had stalked him. Had chased him mercilessly. Had hacked his Facebook account. He'd had to change cell and home phone numbers. However, M and his ex-wife were "friends" and he never talked about his first wife, from his med school days, so I assumed R really was psycho. This was confirmed when a mutual friends told me how crazy R was. (Turns out they'd heard this from M, and didn't know R at all.)
The first 4 months of our relationship were amazing: romantic sails around the island, picnics (and sex!) on the beach, candlelight dinners, walks along the shore holding hands. I quickly met M's parents, whom I adored, and his son, G, who had hated R. I felt honored that G seemed to like me and M had trusted me with his son so quickly. I constantly was told how beautiful I was, how smart, kind, charming, successful and sexy ("the best sex I've EVER had!" M would gasp). I was not at all like that psycho R.
And I have to emphasize: the sex was INCREDIBLE!!!! M could go three or four times in one evening, at age 58, with NO Viagra!
Only one thing marred our early days: M invited me to a friend’s wedding and M’s ex-wife attended. To my shock, she looked and acted like a sex bomb, even though she was 53. Imagine Goldie Hawn with hair to her waist, massive fake b**bs, wearing a tank minidress (to a wedding!) and acting as if she were on cocaine. Her date was a man 20 years her junior. From that point on, L, the ex-wife, was everywhere. Calling M constantly, texting during my dates with M, showing up unannounced at his house, etc. Despite this awful behavior, M stuck up for her, maintaining what good friends they were. I eventually learned L had cheated on M for 3 years before he divorced her.
Then I made a mistake: I told M I loved him, which I truly did, despite having been with him only 4 months. At first M played along, although he didn't say he loved me. Then things started to shift. A date canceled at the last minute. Plans for a romantic getaway shelved. Several days would pass with no calls, emails or texts. Then M's conversation started to be sprinkled with lines like, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now; let's just keep it simple for a while." Yet every time I'd pull back, he'd love-bomb me again: compliments, romantic dinners, hints that he was open to marriage ... eventually.
I started to suspect something was seriously wrong in mid-November. We were planning a party for all our friends, but M refused to set a date. Then he came to spend the weekend and ranted for hours about all his problems with his son and his ex-wife; things that appalled me and would NEVER have gone on in my large, loving, normal family. That night, as I sat on his lap listening to love songs, M suddenly cried, "I just can't do this! I don't love you. I don't think I'm capable of love."
Out poured a torrent of self-pity: two failed marriages (neither his fault), the bad relationship with R. (her fault), an episode where he was censured for having sex with a patient (!!!). That only happened once, he said, and he'd been trapped & seduced. Worst of all, he was NOT OVER HIS MARRIAGE!
By now, I was so in love with M that I gave him a pass on all these red flags. I was SURE I'd be the exception to his bad track record. That I could love him enough to fix his past failures. After all, none of them were his fault! M whined a bit longer, but before I knew it, he had my bra off and we were in bed.
That night I couldn't sleep and made what was my first attempt to get free. When M woke, I said, "I just can't do this negative drama. It's not how I've lived and not how I plan to live." M cried, begged me to give him a chance ("you're different from all the others"), and made love to me again. I was shackled from then on.
Things went downhill from there. M promised to spend Thanksgiving with me, then canceled our plans two days before because of unspecified problems with his ex-wife. Then, ON THANKSGIVING DAY, be brutally broke up with me in an EMAIL! A widow of 7 months, alone and brutally dumped on a family holiday! His emailed excuses were the same I would hear intermittently for another 14 months: He wasn't ready for a serious relationship. Although he loved me, he wasn’t IN love with me, and he didn't think he was capable of real love. He was sure he'd fail if he tried again, etc. In utter despair, I took too many sleeping pills, got drunk and passed out. I won't recount the horror of M's behavior that night. I'll save that nightmare for another day.
Not ONE WEEK passed before M came back around again, first with emails, then calls, then brunch and a hike, then BAM, right back into the relationship. Things continued like this for months. I never knew when M would have a melt-down, "break up" with me (which usually lasted 2-3 days), disappear for a weekend, not contact me for 3-4 days, cancel a much-anticipated trip with me (although he often traveled alone), and on and on and on. I put up with it ALL, because I grew more and more in love with M.
And folks, unless you think I'm a total idiot: THE MAN BUILT ME A WOODEN SAILBOAT! As one of my brothers said, "That's the best engagement ring I've ever seen!"
Through it all, M's bad behavior would be sprinkled with moments of great adoration and happiness: launching the sailboat, camping on an island, traveling to my niece's wedding (a huge, 3-day family affair in which my entire clan fell under M's spell), a dream day together on my birthday. And always, amazing sex. In 18 months, spending 3-4 nights/week together, we only skipped sex TWICE, because M was sick. And EVERY SINGLE MORNING when we were together over the course of 18 months, we had sex.
I became addicted to M: to the sex, his brilliant mind, his incredible charm, his endearing boyishness and his delightful eccentricity. He could be mind-blowingly romantic one minute, and intriguingly if vexingly aloof the next. And there were genuinely good things about M. He was an amazing physician, universally adored by his patients. And most of his staff. And most of the people in the community. But over time, cracks appeared: I heard rumors of his unfaithfulness to his first wife. Some type of instability was hinted at, but never divulged. Then there was the lingering stain of sex with a patient (who, it was hinted, was barely of legal age). I ignored all the bad and worshipped the good. I constantly told M how handsome, sexy, charming, brilliant, kind, talented and fascinating he was. I was a Greek chorus of praise that never ceased.
Through it all, his ex-wife made endless trouble. And G was a "troubled" teenager, who needed constant tending, like a baby bird (although when I spent time with G, he appeared normal, if young for his age). It soon became clear that M and his ex-wife were obsessed with G and infantilized him to a shocking degree. Every time I'd bring this up or try to help G in any way, I was punished: silent treatment, canceled plans, cold and cruel withdrawal, etc. I felt like I was walking on eggshells. I developed asthma out of nowhere. Then anxiety attacks. I feared upsetting M in any way. What if he sent another break-up email? (He did this twice more over 18 months, but always was back within 2 weeks.) What if he left for good? I'd been abandoned traumatically when my husband died; I couldn't face that again.
After a year, I started to bring up marriage, hinting that eventually, I wanted to wed. M strung me along, saying the time wasn't right, but he was open to the idea, it was on the table, I'd be a great stepmother to G, he wished we weren't too old to have a child of our own, etc. Only ONE TIME did M change that story.
We'd hosted a big party with all our friends. Even those who had been suspicious of M were finally won over by his quiet, self-effacing charm and "obvious" dedication to me. (Obvious when he chose and when others were looking.) At one point, a dear friend slipped up and called me M's "wife" in front of M. After the guests were gone, M and I enjoyed our usual mind-blowing sex. When we were done, he sat up, fixed me with the coldest, cruelest look I'd ever seen and hissed, "You know, I'll NEVER marry you!" I was STUNNED! M then said he still wasn't over his marriage, needed time to "think and work on his problems," declared that he believed that marrying me would "harm" his son, and asked to take a one-month break from the relationship. I agreed, heartbrokenly, as I had no choice. M swore he'd get counseling and take antidepressants. (Counseling lasted for 3 visits. Antidepressants became a yo-yo routine he never stuck with.)
For one month, I didn't contact M in any way, although he would routinely call/text/email me whenever he felt lonely. At the end of 30 days, he joined me for a romantic weekend getaway, at which he declared he deeply and truly loved me and would give me the serious commitment I wanted.
Ha! That lasted a couple weeks. Then, in November, he asked for a two-week break. I agreed, but insisted it would be the last. Back he came, as if the break had never occurred. Finally, right before Christmas, M was heading out of town for a medical conference (a last minute one, to which I was NOT invited). In one, final attempt to regain sanity, I said, "M, I can't take it anymore. You've worn be down. I'm too tired to go on. You know I love you and want marriage someday. You've made it clear you don't. When you come back, you can have the simple, non-serious, no-strings relationship you say you want, BUT IT WON'T BE WITH ME. I'M DONE."
M calmly said, "When I'm back, changes will be made." And lo and behold, they WERE! M returned a new man: kind, loving, attentive, devoted. He even spent more time with me, when he could. It was like the first 4 months of our relationship all over again! Although M hadn't proposed yet, we talked about marriage "someday" and I started to hope for a wedding the following year, when G graduated from high school.
At the same time, my own life finally had grown happy, all on its own, aside from M. The worst of my grief over my late husband was gone. I'd made new friends, started new hobbies and received a promotion at work. I remember jubilantly sending M a text one evening in mid-January, saying I finally felt happy and thanking M for this "part" in it. (He NEVER wanted me to be dependent on him for ANYTHING, least of all happiness.)
Then, out of the blue, a photo surfaced on Facebook of M in the arms of another woman. I instantly knew who and when it was: on old girlfriend of M's who lived in Canada. I could tell by M's short haircut that it had been taken the previous July, right after a nirvana of family bliss at my niece's wedding. I recalled the scene: M suddenly had announced he was going to Canada for 4 days. I leaped to conclusions about his old girlfriend, but he persuaded me I was "crazy" to be suspicious. He'd called me twice a day he whole time he was gone!
When M came back from rounds at the hospital, I confronted him. At first he denied everything, then admitted to a "Facebook friendship." I said that, if he ended the relationship and went to counseling with me, I'd stay with him. (I was too in love to leave, even when I believed in my heart he was cheating and certainly had been lying.) He cried, told me he loved me and agreed, but asked for 24 hours to end it.
Ninety-six hours later, he still hadn't. When I demanded he end it that very second, on the phone, with me standing right there, he turned ice-cold. "You know, I never wanted a serious relationship," he snapped. "If you'll give me an open relationship and let me keep S [the other woman], I'll stay with you." When I refused, he said, "That's it then. We're done." He spun and stalked out, ending our 18-month relationship just like that.
In the conflagration that followed the final end with M, I learned he'd been with S for 21 months -- longer than he had been with me! She and I spoke and I learned that they had always had a sexual relationship. M had cheated on his second wife with S, whom he had met 20 years ago, when she was one of his patients. (More sex with patients -- yikes!) Worst of all, every single time M had been out of town for a conference or "spending the weekend" with his son, he had been with S. His son had never been there at all. Stunningly, M also had been talking with S about getting married. S ended things with M after we spoke, although I'm convinced she'll take him back, if she hasn't already.
I spoke with M's ex-wife (the one he cheated on with S). Turns out he'd cheated on her several times before G was born, and he had been notoriously unfaithful to his first wife (hence all the rumors). The young patient he'd had sex with had attempted suicide. His ex-wife confirmed that M often had told me he had his son for the weekend, when he in fact did not. She was convinced — based on his pattern of disappearing for weekends when she knew he was not with me (and we determined he was not with S) — that he had at least one other woman on the side!
I then spoke with R, the ex-girlfriend M had called "psycho." She turned out to be sweet, kind, normal and had been as taken in by M as I had. Interestingly, she was a psychiatric nurse and said that M was a narcissist -- the first I'd ever heard of such a thing. She also said that when I was in the hospital after what M called my "suicide attempt,” M had come to see her, badmouthed me as a "psycho ex he was trying to get away from," and tried to rekindle their relationship. She sent him packing, but every 2-3 months, he'd email, text or call, trolling to restart things. She predicted it would now be my turn to be the "psycho" ex, and to expect to see my reputation destroyed in our small community, as hers had been.
And so it has proven. M is telling lies about me to anyone who'll listen, including my own lawyer! Oh, did I forget to mention the lawyer? I had to hire one because M convinced his ex-wife (also a narcissist, now that I know the signs, and diagnosed with histrionic personality disorder) that I was a threat to her and G. He got his ex to file a restraining order against me, despite emails she sent me offering support, solidarity and best wishes AFTER my alleged threat against her. M did this in attempt to smear my name without his own name being involved, as he cannot afford any more sex-related scandals in our little community.
But that was M's big mistake. That final act of aggression and vengeance without provocation from me finally woke me up. After reading everything I could get my hands on about narcissists, sociopaths and psychopaths, I've finally recognized that I spent the last 18 months with a monster. I now know that every word that came out of M's mouth was a lie: even the words of love and kindness (especially those). That all the fun we had together was based on a lie, and that every moment he spent with me, he was thinking of another woman (or several others). That the M I fell in love with doesn't exist. M created him to keep me as "supply" to feed his own vampire-like emptiness. That's the hardest thing of all: to have so deeply loved a man who has vanished like fog before the sunlight of truth.
I'm devastated and heartbroken. But strangely, I feel better than I have in 14 months, since M started to show his true colors. I no longer walk on eggshells. I can have fun with friends and family without worrying how M will ruin the day. I can travel without fearing that M will cancel the trip. There is no more negative drama in my life. No more desperate attempts to please a man who cannot be pleased. No more trying to make M happy, when he is incapable of happiness. No more begging for love from a man who not only cannot feel love, but who despises and fears it. I am no longer supply to a toxic emotional vampire.
To be fair to M: On several occasions, he told me, "Don't look to close. I'm not human. I'm a monster. You'll run if you see the real me." I always thought M was being melodramatic and trying to elicit more love when he said those things. Turns out that was the ONLY time he was telling the truth. I recommend everyone listen to the song "Demons," by Imagine Dragons. M could have written it.
I made a bet with R (the ex-girlfriend) that M will reappear in her life soon, and that he'll take another crack at me in 6-9 months, when the dust has settled and his new supply starts to pall. What better way for a vampire to prove his power than to re-ensnare his former victim?
But M miscalculated: I fell into his clutches because I was grieving, vulnerable and reeling from my husband's death. I'm now stronger and wiser. I've walked through fire and come out the other side, tempered into steel. In the end, M made me a better, and ultimately, a happier person.
My, how he must hate that!