I believe my husbands affairs began early on with a prostitute(s) while on deployment overseas. They didn't end then either. Unknown to me, he was addicted to pornography and unable to display any physical affection or intimacy. We were separated very quickly after our marriage for an 8 month deployment. When he got home, I waited for him patiently, ready to love and hug my new husband. What was I thinking? He got home and didn't want anything to do with me. We would spend a few more months living apart before our late wedding. Planning it was horrible. Often, I would go day's without hearing from my amiss husband. I flew down to visit and I don't even think we were intimate once. Huh?! What is wrong with me?! When I moved down months later, I drove the 1200 miles by myself. The first day, not even a call from my husband to see if I was okay. Really? I finally got there ready to run around our new place. Make love, live as a married couple. No!! I spent many days and night begging him, "What is wrong, is it me? What is it? Are you gay? (I really and still do think this is a possibility). "Nothing" he would say. I would spill my guts and tell him how I felt. Pointless. He never did answer me about being gay. Not reassuring.
It wasn't unusual that I would catch my husband hiding around the house to masterbate while I yearned for physical intimacy. How could he do this by himself and withhold it from me? What did I do to deserve this? "Nothing". What I didn't know is the porn addiction that was going on and that something was terribly wrong inside of him. He is a person truly void of all conscience, empathy and compassion. This would be made clear at many times throughout our marriage. I NEVER, ever in 7 years heard him say the following words, "that's wrong", "that's sad", "Poor thing", "Are you okay?" "It's going to be alright", "Don't worry". Nothing ever to display any sort of emotion or compassion for anyone else but himself. I Never felt loved. Never did he hug me for no reason, comfort me when I cried, help me when I needed him. I would cry and beg him to hold me and he would just stare at me. I think we had actual sex about once every 2-3months. I guess this was when his hand was sore. When I would ask him why he never wanted to have sex, it was a different excuse every time. "You don't go to bed when I do", "You're not tan enough", "you always cover yourself up", "you make me feel bad", "you're not on birth control"... Really? Well, I wouldn't feel insecure if you didn't constantly reject me. I tell you I feel used because you only want to have sex once every 3 months, and that makes YOU feel bad? I would get on birth control, but why should I take a pill everyday to have sex 4X a year??? I go to bed early and that makes no difference!! Now, what's your excuse?? And then there would be another...
I could cry, I could hemorrhage while pregnant, I could hemorrhage again after surgery requiring transfusions, I could be sick, I could be pregnant... and STILL.. Nothing. I took myself to the hospital ER numerous times, I drove myself to/from surgery, I was on my own. He was irritated when I hemorrhaged while pregnant, I didn't tell him I was bleeding because I didn't want to feel the rejection of him not caring. My family called him on his cell after I called them frantically telling him to take me to the ER. He slept in my room overnight, and refused to talk to me after I showed him the blood to ask him if it was bright red or dark red. (the nurse asked) "That is disgusting!! I can't believe you would show me that." I was "placed" on complete bedrest when discharged and when the nurse told him he would have to take care of me, he laughed. Really. He never lifted a finger for me. No, "honey, rest and let me do that", No cooking me meals, cleaning. Nope. I had a marginal placental abruption. If it had been worse and complete, Eli and I would have bled to death within 15 minutes. I never did see "bed rest". I bled for 15 days. After leaving the hospital, I went to the doctor daily for fetal monitoring, but it was best to keep baby in the oven. I did not want a cesarian.
Pregnancy was the loneliest, saddest time in my life. Every little girl cannot wait for the day that she grows up and has a baby of her own with a loving husband. When I first told him that I was pregnant he thought I was "lying" or "joking" or something. He didn't even react when I told him, he just ignored me and went to bed. I finally asked him about a week or two later, "Do you even believe me?" He said, "Not really." I went into the bedroom and threw my positive test at him. He didn't say a word. I was crying and not a word. Did I mention we had gotten back together a few months earlier after I had caught him having numerous affairs on "No strings Attached" meet for sex websites online?!! Sending/receiving nasty pictures. Stating "What a bitch his wife was and that he needed "some"". Crushing. I just wanted to be loved. Was that too much?! I still do not know what I was thinking taking him back. I didn't want to be divorced. I believe in marriage. I made him agree to go to a "marriage bootcamp" and Christian counseling.. I wanted a "pro marriage" counselor. We went to the "bootcamp" and it was pretty good. I think it was the first time my husband ever wrapped his arms around me just because. Only time. We came home and I jumped in his lap. Finally, we can have a REAL marriage. He pushed me away instantly. Really? I guess it was just a show for the "boot camp". He never did verbally apologize to me after the cheating. I asked him "Are you even sorry".. "Well, yah", he would say. That was it.
He refused to touch me while I was pregnant. No belly rubbing, no feeling the baby move, no cuddling, no sex. (Okay, well one time.. he must have been desperate!).Nothing! He told me it was because I "grossed him out". Sorry I am carrying your child!!!! I put his hands on my belly 2 times and he pulled them away quicker than you could count to 2. When I hemorrhaged after my tonsillectomy, he was mad that he had to get out of bed. It was his day to "sleep in", and now he had to go with me and the baby. I was bleeding A LOT! Filled a pint on the way to the hospital. It was gushing out of my throat and I was spitting into a large plastic cup. My blood pressure dropped to 70/50 and they started transfusions in both arms. I had to wait for the surgeon who was being called in. He sat on the other side of the curtain nearly the whole time texting and talking on his cell phone to his buddy about hunting. Never held my hand, told me I'd be okay, comforted me, nope. I was dying, literally. When I started feeling tingly and passing/in out I would scream for him to get the doctor, and he would. How sweet of him right?! After the first time, I was already receiving a transfusion, when I looked up and my b/p was 70/50. They started another one in my other arm. I begged him to call the doctor and tell him to hurry. The doctor arrived and I have an option. General anesthesia, or let him spray a local down my throat and stop the bleeding immediately. I choose option number 2 which resulted in surgery number 2. We went home later that evening, and I went straight to bed. Loosing a lot of blood can make you feel really crummy. It can also give you very bloody diarrhea. I stayed in bed and on the toilet for the rest of the day. Not even a check in from my "husband". Such a loving man! Did I tell you the day after my tonsillectomy (as a 26 year old!) he got mad at me when I refused to watch my 8month old while he went running errands. I was crying in terrible (yes, worse than childbirth) pain and was on round the clock narcotics! I couldn't talk or even swallow a drop of water. Hence, the next two ER visits for IV rehydration and pain control. Yes, I drove myself, didn't want to bother him.
I was never verbally told I was beautiful, smart, attractive or complemented in any way... He was a good writer though, and he can and would occasionally write me nice cards. He did once tell me I "looked nice". Oh, thanks. I called him handsome and was his biggest advocate. Apparently though, I didn't worship his ego enough. God forbid I ever make anything about me.
What I didn't know is that I was dealing with a Narcissistic Sociopath. Most people think of "serial killers" when they hear that term. Everyone calls their ex "crazy", but few of them actually really have personality disorders like mine. All serial killers are sociopaths, but few sociopaths are actually murderers. In fact, according to "A sociopath next door", 1 in 25 people are sociopathic. Scary. Tigress Luv explains them best when she says
"To better explain, a narcissist creates an outward image of being 'perfect' and lovable and he then displays this fabricated image to others. He has given birth to an impression of himself, and never has developed or acknowledged his 'real' self. He wears this image like a mask, never removing it or revealing what's underneath it.The narcissist depends on this 'false image' or rather his 'reflection' to feel love for himself. Unfortunately, because of this his true self is never really developed nor loved by him. He feels love for himself only though the love others have of his projected image. His love, therefore, is not of himself but of the projected 'image' that other people see him as; the fake image that he has perfected and emits.
The expression "what you see is what you get" does not apply to a narcissist. Most assuredly, what you see is not at all anything even remotely like what you get in the long run. Sure, he can keep this mask on for a while, but eventually it becomes too much for him to bear. In the privacy of an intimate relationship his mask is eventually removed, his 'package' is opened, and his true self emerges.
Once the narcissist is totally revealed you will see a man that is indifferent and not wanting to be bothered by love or intimacy. Once you have removed his mask he will leave you feeling like the empty shell that he really is himself ... an empty shell of a man that sucks the vitality out of those around him on his constant feeding frenzy of admiration."
Once the narcissist is totally revealed you will see a man that is indifferent and not wanting to be bothered by love or intimacy. Once you have removed his mask he will leave you feeling like the empty shell that he really is himself ... an empty shell of a man that sucks the vitality out of those around him on his constant feeding frenzy of admiration."
This is the person I was living with. He pretended to be such a "nice" guy in public, but behind closed doors he was cold, apathetic, and indifferent. I became his "scape goat" for nearly everything. Especially his own family. I asked him numerous times throughout our marriage if he wanted to go home (to Vermont) and visit, and he always said "no". On one occasion we even drove by the state and he didn't want to stop!! Yet, what I didn't know, is that they were asking. Rather than say, "No, I don't feel like going", he would say "LeeAnn doesn't want to" or "LeeAnn wont let me".. HE would call his mom (mama's boy) and complain to her further alienating me. "LeeAnn wont let me keep my dog", "LeeAnn wont let me buy what I want"... blah blah blah. In arguments he would tell me all the bad things his family would say about me while he was complaining and alienating me to them. I never knew why they didn't like me or what I did to them. I also found out that when friends would invite us over he would tell them "LeeAnn doesn't want to".. I didn't even know!!!!! He wanted everyone to hate me! If he alienated me then he felt he had control over me. He felt sick power from rejecting me and kicking my self esteem.
Often, I would lay in bed at night... yearning to be loved, to be hugged, kissed. And my husband lay in bed next to me. One time, I told him I had a new rule that if he wanted to sleep in bed with me, he had to cuddle with me 5 minutes before bed, or he had to sleep in the other room. Without a word, he grabbed his pillows and went to the other bedroom. It sounds like we were arguing, we weren't. We rarely fought. That was part of the problem. I would always try to talk to him, get through and work things out to no avail. Until, eventually I really gave up. I was dying inside. The fun loving me was being forked to death slowly.. I asked him to leave the bed many times, I would say, "because you never touch me, you push me away. I feel less alone if you are just gone." He would say "Well it's my bed too". Not any attempt to make me feel better.
Tomorrow I tell you the beginning of the end......
