What if Your Soul Mate has ASPD (Anti Social Personality Disorder)?

True Love Couple

True Love Couple (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You’d be surprised how many people arrive at my blog after doing a search for ‘What if My Soul Mate has ASPD?’

Well, if your soul mate has ASPD, then I’m very sorry for you. If you are going to stay in the relationship, then, most likely, you are in for a lifetime of misery.

I can speak as an authority on this topic. If there was one thing my ex and I claimed to be, it was soul mates. The soul mate theme was ours, even during a two decade separation.

The trouble is that he went out and found another soul mate, one whom he could hide his dealing and drug use from, as he could no longer hide it from me.

A wonderful thing happened to me in the reeling aftermath from discovering his betrayal. I happened upon an incredibly skilled therapist. I stumbled into her office less than forty-eight  hours of my heart being blown up by the  grenade of his deceit, and exclaimed, “But he’s my soul mate!” asI poured out our life story to her.

She responded in the best way possible. “Well, he might be your soul mate, but he’s really screwed up.”

So, if your soul mate has ASPD, then you need to make some hard choices. He (or she) is not going to change.  Chances are he is involved with illegal activities and is an alcoholic and/or drug addict. Unfortunately, there is no magic bullet. There is no fairy spell to break the curse of your beloved’s brain being fucked up and him not being able to EVER take responsibilities for his actions or for the pain he has caused and will cause you.

If you think that your lover has ASPD, then you need to see a professional and talk about what’s going on in your life. There is not a good prognosis for having a relationship with a person with ASPD or any other Cluster B type personality disorder.

Believe me, I wish there were.

I don’t believe so much in soul mates anymore.

If the hell I went through was ‘true love‘, then surely, you can keep it.



The Paralysis of Betrayal

Moche Culture Representation of Facial Paralys...

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Last October, I discovered that my boyfriend had been cheating on me with another woman. Our story is complicated. We were married young, had a daughter and then were separated for eighteen years. So, after we were reunited, I thought that we both were committed for the rest of our lives, having gone through so much pain during the years we were apart.

The details are unimportant. If you are interested, then you can read through the rest of this blog for the juicy details. Start way back in October and you can read me flailing about trying to not fall down the deep hole of betrayal.

Betrayal has made me feel like shit. Betrayal has made me feel discarded. Betrayal, his betrayal, has made me feel like yesterday’s lunch. The experience of betrayal has made me distrustful of the universe. It has made me feel unwanted and useless. I have felt deceived, tricked and made a fool of. He cuckolded me. I have spent the past seven months cataloguing the emotions I have experienced through circling through the extended grief cycle of shock, denial, bargaining, anger and acceptance.

It was the worst long winter of my life. That was my thought, when it first happened, was trepidation about this shock, this trauma right before the onset of a northern New England winter. No, it can’t be. But it was. And it was, and it was, and it was.

I feel now like I’ve been in a train wreck and I’m trying to get up. I’m trying to stand. My legs are wobbly. I am weak. It is the loss of youth, of health, of strength. I am not the same person. This shock, this trauma, this betrayal has paralyzed me. Not just emotionally but physically. It is as if I have stopped and now I have to get up and start moving again. It was the asthma which came from the trauma which stopped me. I pretty much collapsed. I’m not sure how I got through the winter, or how I went to work every day. How did I buy the food? Feed the kids? Pay the bills? In between it all, I just went to bed and curled up in the fetal position and coughed and coughed and coughed.

I was paralyzed but I am trying to get up. I am so mad about what he’s done to me. Why couldn’t he have stayed away, after eighteen years? Why didn’t he just leave me alone?

But I know the answer now, which I did not know last fall. It is simply this; he is still selfish and irresponsible. These have become his main character traits.

So pray for me, please, as I try to arise and walk again.



Three Good Reads about Betrayal

In the past few weeks, I’ve read three helpful books on the subject of healing from betrayal.

I just finished reading, When Your Lover is a Liar: Healing the Wounds of Deception and Betrayal by Susan Forward, PhD with Donna Frazier.

High school health teachers should add Ms. Forward’s book to their curriculum so that young women can be warned in advance about the charismatic side of liars and how to avoid them. This book helped me move through thinking that my betrayal was unique  to seeing the universality of betrayal. My boyfriend is  a life long liar. In the first few months of our reunion, I believed that he had changed, but as it turned out, he was still a liar. Had I read this book in advance I may have been able to bail out of the relationship by realizing that the lying was never going to stop. If I had left the relationship earlier, I would have been spared the heartbreak of his betrayal. Liars lie. They keep on lying.

I liked this book so much that I sent a copy to my daughter at college to give to a friend who was trying to escape from a relationship with a liar who was cheating on her. I also recommended it to a friend my age (44) who had just finished a nasty divorce from a liar. She  thanked me for the recommendation and said that she recognized many patterns from her own experience while reading the stories of the women in the book.

Not Just Friends: Rebuilding Trust and Recovering Your Sanity After Infidelity , by Shirley P. Glass, PhD, illuminates the phenomenon of friendships at work budding into extra marital affairs. Obviously, this is nothing new, but Ms. Glass believes that due to increased time spent in the workplace and the availability of secret communications systems such as texting and email, this trend is growing. This book focuses on how women and couples can repair marriages and other committed relationships after an affair between ‘just friends.’

Ms. Glass also clearly delineates how these friendships, unlike one night stands, focus on emotional intimacy and grow as the two people involved view their special friendship as a type of fantasy relationship, free from the troubles of their committed relationship.  Intimacy between the friends develops slowly over months or even years, so that it seems innocent and natural for them to finally embark upon a sexual relationship. This type of relationship is all about selfishness; the person sneaking around developing an intimate relationship with a friend is trying to avoid dealing with the real life problems in the committed relationship.

If I had read this book beforehand, I never would have trusted my boyfriend’s ‘friendship ‘with this other woman. I would have recognized certain warning signs early on. There was a point when they began spending more time together, and in retrospect it is clear that  she was pursuing him, and  that he probably turned to her to discuss problems he was having with me.  It was the perfect set up as they worked together, and so he created a parallel relationship with her with very little effort. Since I’d never experienced infidelity before, and trusted him completely, I was thinking, “Oh that’s nice, he has a good friend at work.” As he’d asked her out a year  before he and I had reunited and she had turned him down coldly, I had thought that this woman  was ‘safe.’ She just wanted to be friends with him. It never occurred to me that her feelings would change. I was doubly at risk because he and I lived a couple hours apart, so it was very easy for this ‘just friends’ relationship to bloom into sexual intimacy with him running very little risk of me finding out.

Finally, How Can I Forgive You? The Courage to Forgive, The Freedom Not To, by Janis Abrahms Spring, PhD, is a breath of fresh air. I have always been a proponent of forgiveness and have forgiven many things in my life. But I knew fairly quickly after discovering my boyfriend’s betrayal, that given my long history with him,I could never forgive his recent lying and web of deceit which he’d been spinning around me for eighteen months, with me never suspecting!

Ms. Abrahms Spring offers acceptance as an alternative to forgiveness. This concept has worked very well for me and helped me move forward with my healing process. I will write more about this excellent read in another post soon.



Stand by the Stairway You’ll See Something Certain to Tell You…

Hand grenade

Image by Profound Whatever via Flickr

I have spent all day telling myself that it doesn’t matter that today is the six month anniversary of the day I found out that my sweetheart had been sleeping with another woman for a year and a half.

I gave up telling myself this an hour ago. OK, it does matter. It matters. It was six months ago today, back on October 26, 2010, that my life stopped, that reality reached into my chest and wrenched out my twisted, bleeding heart in its fist and chucked it over the side of the interstate.

What matters more is that I bet he doesn’t know, or if he does know, doesn’t care.

I wish, I wish, I wish I were a fish. Oh, how I wish I’d never heard from him again. 18 years! Why didn’t he stay good and gone? Or, if he wanted to see his daughter, how about just that, seeing his daughter?  Why get into a relationship with me? Why renew the old intimacy, the old vows?

Why why why? No one forced him to start talking to me. No one forced him to send that card, “I’m sorry, can we talk?” in response to my response to him tracking us down. No one forced him to bring a basket of flowers to my hotel room the first time we saw each other in eighteen years, watching the waves crash from the window overlooking the beach, trying to make sense of what had happened to our life.

I should never have believed him, when he told me that he’d quit getting high years before, or that he only drank on the weekends. He was lying to me because he wanted to be with me and I believed him and if he’d only told me the truth well maybe we could have had a foundation to lay our souls upon but he started us out again with lies! I want to go back in time, knowing what i know now, and say, “You’re lying. Tell me the truth, and because i love you, then we can go from there.”

Every day, I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.  I can’t forgive him, but I love him and so I try and try and try. “What if he wanted to quit all that?” I say to myself,” What if he had every intention of making a new start in his life when he told you all that but he didn’t know how to follow through?”

I want to believe that this woman tricked him, that she lured him. That he was devoted to me but she wouldn’t stay away from him. Didn’t my friend who helped me read all the emails six months ago point out how this woman had been emailing him daily for six months before it appeared they’d started sleeping together? And that he hadn’t responded to her? Had she been reeling him in? What if it wasn’t his fault, really, as he had so little experience in relationships?

That Sunday morning he offered me his hand. His hand for the first time, in nearly two decades, on the walkway along Long Beach. It was cold, we had spent the weekend talking and he offered me his hand. His hand, which I had seen growing for eighteen years in our daughter’s hands; she had his fingers. It was sunny out and his hand asked the same question that his face did, “May I? Could we? Start again?” and I took it, believing that God had led us both to this point of redemption, of understanding, of forgiveness, and that nothing could ever separate us again.

If I ever had to go through what I went through last October again I would not survive. I have barely survived this. All the crap about that which does not kill you makes you stronger is simply untrue.  I did not need this, I did not need for him to come back into my life and betray me this way. This was the completely opposite of what I needed, battered and tattered in this life at age forty, when he surfaced saying, “I had my head up my ass and failed you.”

My own true love, my lost young darling boy, my dearest husband, risen back to me from the dead. Come back to me and now taken away. And I hurt, and I hurt, and I hurt, and I hurt. Do you even know how much I hurt? Do you even look back, over your shoulder, to see what you have done to me, as i lay crumpled by the tracks after being hit by your train wreck? What is the truth, tell me, is it that i drove you away, or is it that you can’t have a woman who won’t accept or at least pretend not to know that you’re an addict? Whose fault? Mine or yours?  I raised the baby. I worked, and I worked and we ate lentil soup. I raised the baby alone so that you could get stoned all day long for twenty years. And I’m so controlling, because i wanted you to stop? Oh curse the day you asked me out. I was eighteen. How could I know you’d destroy my life, not once but twice? You looked so innocent  in the lunchroom in your food service uniform, as you shyly asked me out, so shy you could barely get the words out. And I was confused, could not say no to you for fear I’d hurt your feelings. Oh, to go back in time and tell you NO! No, I won’t go out with you. No! We’ll have a baby and you’ll be too busy getting stoned with your friends and selling dope with your friends to make sure I have a decent place to live. I would give everything I have in my life to back there and tell you NO!

Maybe that would give me a chance at finding a decent guy, one  who wanted to marry a nice girl like me and have some babies. Not someone like you who was so busy kissing your stupid macho asshole friend assess so you could be Mr. Big shot selling dope. Do you have any idea what I did to my chances of finding a nice guy and having a decent life by getting pregnant with your child at the age of 20? Do you ever think about this? No, it’s always about YOUR feelings. How do you think  we ate, your daughter and I, without your support? Well we did, through my labor, and without inconveniencing you, as you so did not want to be inconvenienced. How could I ever have forgiven you, for putting your scumbag friends in front of your daughter and helpless young wife? But I did, and you failed me again.

In the past six months I have decided that you are either lucky in love or you are not in this life. I am not. I never have been, and I never will be.

When I was born, your soul was crossed upon mine in such a way as to make me miserable, in one way or another, for my entire life.  It is not enough that I had to raise our child alone without your help, while you had your head up your ass. No, I had to forgive you for all that, let you into my heart, into my soul, in the most intimate way only for you to shatter me completely.

How can you rediscover the one person who made you whole, forgive them, only to have them betray you in a completely new way half your life later? Is this love? Is this madness? Is this karma?

I can’t let go of my feeling that I had for those two and a half years, the fulfillment of our prophecy,

“They are one person,

They are two alone

They are three together

They are for each other…”

It’s been six months and I still don’t believe that you could have done this to me, or that this could be my life. The rest of my life, without you. I did everything right. I raised the baby. I forgave you when you came forward seeking forgiveness. I deserve you and our ocean and our cannons and my island and our happily ever after. I deserve that. Do I wait for my next life? Dear, you have left me hanging, and I will never again know when to trust myself or what is real or what is false.

I wish that I had never laid eyes on you. God, do you hear me? Take this cup away from me for I will not drink it/. I never wished this pain. Take back the years, take back the time and let this abominable thing not have happened to me.

I give up on love. There is no love for me in this life. There is only family, friendship and work.  I will make my peace with that, and be grateful for what I have.



Self Deception Meets the Deceiver…

Mt. Deception

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Self Deception Meets the Deceiver, Part One:

For those of you who are new to this blog- let me recap briefly. In 2007, I heard from my daughter‘s father, the ‘love of my life’ after a silence of eighteen years. We began dating in 2008. Although he lived a couple hours away, I would drive to spend a weekend with him about once a month, and would also take vacation time to be with him over the holidays and summer. In October, 2010, I discovered that he’d been cheating on me with another woman for eighteen months. My discovery ended our relationship, and I’ve been writing about it in this ever since in an attempt to find some peace.

After months of unraveling layers of my emotional response to his betrayal, I’ve gotten down to asking questions about myself, and why I was willing to put blinders on and not see his faults, and allow him to betray me.

I am not referring to his other girlfriend. He covered his tracks well enough with that situation so that it was only by intuition and a stroke of  luck that I figured it out. I am referring to his intentions of deliberately deceiving me about who he was and how he lived his life, back in 2008, and my wholehearted willingness to believe him.

I had left him and taken our daughter with me, back in 1989, because he was drinking heavily, smoking LOTS of dope, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. I can avoid going into details, but it was not a safe situation for my daughter, and I knew this to the point of never asking him for child support– as I figured we were just safer without him and his crowd/lifestyle.

When I left, I wrote him a letter, which he still has. At the end of the letter, I instructed him to contact me at my father’s address should he wish to stay in touch. In the first six months after I left, he wrote one letter threatening me about taking our daughter ‘across state lines’ to which I did not respond. He never wrote again, nor did he ever send money.

So why would I ever even speak to this person again? Because, after 18 years, he presented himself to me right away with phrases like, “I am not a druggie, yes I was messed up for awhile but I got my act together.” Then I asked him questions about drug and alcohol counseling and treatment and recovery. He didn’t seem to understand what I was talking about. He maintained that fishing had saved him, and that he’d been able to relax with fishing the way he’d formerly relaxed by getting high and drinking. He certainly presented himself well. He had a steady job and spoke eloquently. “Well, people do change, don’t they?”

And then he started saying things like, “I can’t believe I had my head up my ass and I failed you and our daughter.” That was the point where my rational reasoning shut off and my heart overflowed, pushing endorphins through my bloodstream. And, then he started sending money for her college tuition, cards, chocolates and to her, a pair of diamond earrings. We were both swept away. What woman wouldn’t have wanted to believe in this fairy tale story of long lost lovers being reunited and this young girl, 19, reuniting with the father who did actually love her and who felt terrible about not being there for her because he had ‘his head up his ass.’

All around me, my closest friends, the ones who’d met me when I fled, penniless and car less to Vermont to get away from this man, and keep my daughter safe from his lifestyle, were urging, “Caution, caution. This is too good to be true. This is going too fast. He screwed you over so badly when your daughter was a baby, how can you trust him so quickly now?”

The answer is that I trusted him because he was saying all the right things and I wanted to trust him. I wanted this to be all true. I was tired of being the person who never got what she wanted. I was tired of all the happy couples. I was tired of everyones’ dream come true lives.  I wanted my own happiness. I wanted to be back together with my darling lost artist boy, (as one of my friends who  had known him back then referred to him,) with the only mate whom I’d ever really loved because there had been this esp mental ‘click’ between us.

And so, throwing caution to the wind, I moved forward.

(to be continued…)



Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Betrayed

Rosa Celeste: Dante and Beatrice gaze upon the...

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Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

This quote is attributed to William Congreve. (1670-1729)

What he actually wrote, (in The Mourning Bride, 1697)- “”Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.”

It sums up exactly how I am feeling about what has been done to me. For the first time in my life, I don’t care about forgiveness. I’ve been tricked and cheated on and lied to and I’m mad about it. The sadness, the bereavement, the grief, the despair have passed away and I am mad, and it feels good and healthy to be mad.



The Unraveling

Emmeline contributed to the development of Got...

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A couple weeks ago I wrote about being in a ‘Maze of Denial.’ Happily, I can report that I’ve found my way out. When the betrayal issue first came to light on October 26, I was shocked and in a state of denial because I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought that he was different than he really is, and I thought that our relationship was something which it was not. I thought that he was mature and committed, and I thought that our relationship was monogamous.

In the past weeks, I’ve had to unravel my reality and strip it bare to the ground. There has been a lightening effect with this experience. (Not lightening from the sky, but a lessening of weight.) I no longer care about many of the things which were small worries prior to this experience. In order to process what had happened, I had to let go of everything in my life save for the bare minimum needed to survive; work, eating, laundry, shopping, showering, dressing, caring for children.

Everything else- home repairs, financial concerns, organization, exercise regimen- I pushed to the back burner. I needed all my energies to concentrate on what had happened.

A combination of my dreaming, writing, conversations with family and friends, lack of communication from the man who betrayed for four weeks, and then communication with him via phone, writing and email within a course of a few days last week led me to the discovery that he was absolutely not the person whom I thought he was and whom he led me to believe that he was, and that our relationship, far from being monogamous, had contained the person if not the actual body of a second woman for close to two years.

Why? Simply because he is shallow. His professions of love, by his own confession, wore out quickly. I was a new toy that he lost interest in. He was not able to break it off with me, also due to shallowness. If he broke it off with me, he didn’t have a mainline connection to his daughter. I was providing all of the family events, visits and activities which happened. He doesn’t like to drive, and so his daughter and I were coming to see him. I would make all the arrangements.

Every day,  I understand more and more about his shallowness . He is simply not a whole or a healthy person. He began the new relationship with me based on lies about habits he had twenty years ago. He simply told me that he’d grown up and these weren’t issues for him anymore. It turns out he was completely untruthful about this. When I began to discover the truth and ask him about his lies, he began pursuing another woman.

And being shallow, he lacked the honesty to tell me that he’d found a new love interest so that I could move on with my life. Being shallow, he lacked decency and/or respect, and by his silence about his second girlfriend, he encouraged me to continue driving six hours round trip every month for our relationship which I never doubted was monogamous. In the past 18 months while he’s been sleeping with this other woman without my knowledge, I’ve used up roughly three weeks of my vacation time from work to visit him. How incredibly rude of him to let me take all these vacation days and travel all this time to see him when he knew that my seeing  him was predicated on a complete falsehood!

I’m not sure if even ten percent of anything he’s told me in the past three years has been the truth.

I am glad to be out of it- I feel like an animal who has wriggled out of a trap. How long was he going to continue to deceive me? He took advantage of my geographical location to begin another relationship and simply did not tell me. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. My eyes weren’t open wide enough.

Every day now I remember more of the thousands of small unkindnesses which began happening more and more often in the past few months. I did not see them for what they truly were- unkind acts, words, deeds, gestures, because they didn’t fit into the context of the reality that I wanted to see- he was kind, devoted, had loved me for 25 years, etc.

Learning painful lessons is not fun. For the rest of my life I will never trust anyone easily again. Is this the right way to live? I am grateful that I escaped intact. These types of situations can turn out much worse. This man and I have no legal relationship, we have no financial connections. It’s just done.