“Alone Again, Naturally…”

Does anyone remember that song by Gilbert O’Sullivan? It might have been his only hit, I’m not sure.

OK, I just googled him. It wasn’t. He also had “Claire” and “Get Down” as hits.

“Alone Again, Naturally” was released in 1972 when I was very young. Let’s say 13 for example. I had a crush on Gilbert O’Sullivan and learned how to play Alone Again on the piano. I loved to sing that song. It was pretty much of a feel bad song. Everything bad happened in the song.

Why am I even talking about this? You might ask. Good question. Thanks for asking.

Because today, my son, Jesse, took off for Minnesota for a 9 month hockey reffing program. He graduated college in the spring but had only been 45 minutes away for the last 4 years, so it didn’t really feel like he had left.

Today it does. And, Haley, my daughter has been in Australia for a couple of months. She will return in January but will then go back to college.

So what’s the big deal? This is a natural process of life. Again, good question.

For almost 23 years, I have been a mother. I felt like my kids needed me. I didn’t feel alone because knowing they needed me comforted me and I didn’t feel at all like I was alone in the world.

Jesse is literally off on his own for the first time. And Haley, when I call her, she is always busy.

I was in Pennsylvania for the weekend watching Jesse ref, knowing he would go west today and I would come East. And now, I am on my deck, watching the sun go down, and resisting the following urges:

to feel sorry for myself
to feel like something is wrong
to feel like I shouldn’t be alone
to feel like I should already have found a new relationship by now or at least want to find one
to feel like I shouldn’t be living in this cottage by myself at this time of my life
to feel like it can only go downhill from here
to sit here singing, “Alone Again, Naturally.

Instead, I would like to create my life from here. Instead of life being over, it’s a new beginning. I can do anything. And really, nothing has changed that much. It’s all just a feeling.

I just wanted to get all that out so I could move on. I will pray for both of their safety and health and let go. As my daughter said, “I did a good job. That’s why they are independent right now.”

I will celebrate that I got my motherly job done and look forward to creating a new life in the future.

My secret wish is to get paid a lot of money to travel around the world with the man of my dreams, inspiring people by sharing my story, and empowering them to create the lives of their dreams as well.

So why not focus on that instead of what feels wrong. I can take actions to further that dream instead of wallowing in self-pity singing a negative song about being alone.

How does that sound to you? Like a better game plan?

I think so………more later.

No More Heaping Teaspoons

This is all embarrassing to write, (and I always mess up the spelling of embarassing – I guess there’s 2 r’s and 2 s’s).

I’ve been a member of weight watchers for around 6 or 7 years. I lost 32 pounds and have been finding myself creeping up the scale in the last 3 years.

No matter what I try, I haven’t been able to take it off.

Frustrated and disappointed is a bad combo for me. And that’s what I’ve been for a while. I turn into a 2 year old having a tantrum. It’s not fair. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do. Poor me. Wah wah wah.

Today I finally confessed that maybe, just maybe, I’m eating too much (as in volume).

“Maybe I’m rounding the almond butter. How am I supposed to measure it?” I ask my friend Robin, pretending I don’t actually know.

“You have to flatten it,” Robin and Eileen both said together.

“Really?” I asked, again pretending to not get it. The thought I having to stick my finger in the almond butter to make the teaspoon flat was not appealing. It’s hard to get the oily feeling off your finger.

“You flatten it with a knife,” Robin said as if reading my mind.

“Oh,” I said.

I left the meeting feeling strangely rebellious. I WILL NOT MEASURE MY FOOD. NO ONE CAN MAKE ME!! My brain was saying.

And I love being able to eat large quantities with an attitude of “oh, yeah, you don’t want me eating a lot? Watch me.” Why I wondered? Who am I getting back for that?

I looked, even though the answer was obvious at this point in my life.

It’s a fuck you, I thought. To my mother. For telling me, when I was about to grab a second piece of french toast when I was six, that only fat people ate two pieces. And then later that day she pointed to an obese woman and said, “see that woman, she ate a second piece of french toast this morning.”

I thought I forgave her for all this. Guess not since part of me still wants to “get her back for humiliating me.”

Ok, here’s what I learned in my last course: do I forgive her absolutely? Do I forgive her totally? Do I forgive her unconditionally?

Here’s a tip: If I don’t want to, I’m the only one that’s going to suffer. So why would I want to do that? Good question. To be right? To stay a victim?

It’s hard to let this go. But I will.

Now to forgive myself. Do I forgive that little girl for being however she was that my mother said that? Absolutely? Totally? Unconditionally?

I take a deep breath. Why would I want to hold onto my suffering? That little girl was just grabbing a second piece because it tasted so good. Why wouldn’t she?

OK. I’m letting it go.

I feel sadness. For how wrong I made myself and the resentment I’ve felt for my mom for such a long time.

But I also feel freer. And I just measured my blueberries, almond butter, raw oatmeal, sunflower seeds, and PB2. And I don’t feel overly full like I did when I had my heaping “teaspoons” that might be closer to a tablespoon. I was probably eating WAY more than I was accounting for.

So I’ll try this. Like a freedom instead of a punishment for the second piece of french toast. It’s an experiment. I’ll make it fun. I’ll make it a game.

This is new. And, not having shame is also new. That little girl has grown up. She was innocent. My mother was just doing what she did because she loves me and thought she was helping. It wasn’t malicious.

Am I really ready to let it go? I won’t tell you how many years I’ve been subconsciously holding onto it, but a lot.

Yes. I’m ready. And I may forget from time to time.

I’m giving up my resentment to my mom and my shame for myself. Goodbye resentment. Goodbye shame. (I feel like they were my old friends). Hello love and appreciation. And happiness. And fun.

I guess like the blog says, I’m creating a new life. Wish me luck.

A New Way to Learn – A New Life

My son, Jesse, and I were driving back from Pennsylvania together. He graduated from college last spring and in a few weeks will be going off to Minnesota to pursue his dream of “reffing for the NHL.” I was thrilled to be able to spend the three hours with just him and looked forward to having some great conversations.

“I’d like to play a podcast for you, Mom. Is that ok?”

“How long is it?” I asked thinking I would be bored and would rather talk. I had never heard of a podcast before but it sounded like a science fiction term (Return of the Podcasts), that didn’t appeal to me.

“90 minutes,” he said. “But I think you will like it. Trust me. Jamie Foxx is my inspiration. I think you’ll understand me better if you just listen.”

“OK,” I said. I’ll humor him, I thought.

How wrong I was. The podcast was Tim Ferriss interviewing Jamie Foxx. Jamie started talking about how his grandmother shaped the course of his life by encouraging him to learn to play the piano. He made money playing classical piano for the white people on the other side of town………… I was riveted. Jamie’s story was fascinating.

I was also blown away by Tim Ferriss’s lack of trying to be politically correct. I admired his freedom to swear, be himself, and genuinely be enjoying himself. He had obviously done his research and knew just what questions to ask. He didn’t seem to be worried about what people would think, but was after a real and authentic version of who Jamie really was. I loved that he seemed to cut right through the bull shit to get to the real person.

I’ve always loved hearing people’s stories. The whole concept of a podcast as a way to hear them opened up new pathways in my mind. I was starting to vibrate.

Listening to the podcast helped me understand Jesse’s admiration for Jamie’s music, comedy, acting and out of the box thinking. I got more of a feel for what motivates Jesse, in addition to his reffing ambition.

An Aside: I’ve always wanted Jesse to perform on Saturday Night Live. He is very handsome, a talented singer and musician, and when I’m with him I am always laughing. My secret wish is that I could be in the back room of the show with him, writing new material for him to deliver on the show. Our family provides us with plenty of material.

Just thinking about Jesse’s imitations makes me laugh out loud, especially the one of the old english actor, “really dahling, what are you thinking……………”

Going back to the main thought: For many reasons, a whole new world opened up to me that day. Since then, whenever I’m in the car and not talking on the phone, I play a Tim Ferriss podcast. I have heard the life stories of entrepreneurs, coaches, tennis players, comedians, authors and a bunch of other people.

I am inspired by their stories and the challenges that they have overcome in their lives. And mostly, by their fearlessness, courage, and audacity to accomplish what other people have not. And also by Tim’s pioneering a new world of podcasts and his unique spin on how to interview. The whole thing has ignited a new path of thinking and creating in my own life.

And then I wonder why I haven’t done anything that would qualify me to be a potential interviewee. Why have I never really played “Big?” Why, when I have such big dreams and self-proclaimed potential, do I keep it safe and hide my writing and real self?

I discovered the real reason in an inquiry a few weeks ago, called “One Step Beyond.” The reason is FEAR. Fear of people thinking I’m crazy, fear of being criticized, fear of being disappointed, and fear of me calling myself stupid for getting my hopes up. That was literally all it was.

When I saw that that was the only thing in the way, I started taking actions. “Take the shot,” was a lesson I learned from George, the football coach. Another woman said that adversity and failure just made her stronger. You’ve got to fail at the beginning. It’s just what’s on the way to success. It’s normal.

I can see that listening to these amazing stories as I drive has kept me in the zone. Since that day in the car, I emailed Arianna Huffington, submitted 4-5 stories to her web site that were published, am working on my book proposal to finally submit to a publisher after 5 years, and I’m speaking up more everywhere in my life. I am less of a victim and more of a person who can have what I WANT!!!!

This is all miraculous for me. My daughter doesn’t recognize me. My mother is proud of the fact that I am “a published author.” And Jesse and I get to support each other in a way that wasn’t possible before.

Life is way more exciting now. And, I credit listening to these podcasts.

I am grateful to my son for innocently playing me the interview with his hero. Who knew that that morning in the car would change the trajectory of our lives?

Ask for Help, You Just Might Get It

I’m still trying to get my three books read so I can send in my book proposal. I have to compare them to my book and convince the publisher why my book will sell well. I read 2 of them and lost the third.

I was working with MaryAnn, my book mentor last night trying to find a good third book. We googled, we went on Amazon, and I also checked the New York Times Best Seller list. We were looking for the current top selling memoirs. I made a list and requested then at my local library.

Easier said than done.

I went to the library today. The books were out. Maybe you can help me? I asked one of the librarians. I can’t, but you can ask Donna and Bill at the reference desk.

I went over to the reference desk and explained what I was looking for. They each had their own computer. They started clicking away, calling out book names and authors. One of the other librarians also came over and was searching the stacks with me.

It was fun. They had a challenge and I was getting lots of ideas.

I left the library holding five books. I was happy. For me, having an abundance of books is my happy place. I can read what I want, and return the rest. All for free.

And I also felt good letting the library people contribute to me. I’m sure they felt good helping, and it felt good to receive.

Can’t wait to start reading…………………………….

People Love You

I was talking to one of my heroes at Landmark Worldwide today on the phone. Her name is Helen.

I was telling her that I want to go to the Year End Vacation and the Conference for Global Transformation (two advanced trips offered by Landmark Worldwide), but that I was afraid that I would be all by myself there. Why go to all the expense and time travelling to be alone? I can do that at home for free.

“That’s ridiculous,” Helen said. “Why would you think that?”

Good question, I thought. I guess it’s my brain remembering how I played alone in kindergarten. I remember flipping over the metal bar over and over, all by myself. I don’t remember playing with the other kids at all. How interesting.

“I don’t think anyone wants to play with me,” I said, like a five year old.

“Well, you tell that little girl that she’s a grown up now. People love her. She’s fun and people want to be around her.” Helen said.

“Really? I can just do that?” I asked. “Tell that little girl that she’s got it wrong?”

“Of course,” Helen said. “People really do love you. That story you live inside of is just bull- oney.”

“Wow. That is so much more fun than my world,” I said. “How cool.”

I was getting groceries out of my car. I grabbed a couple more bags and headed towards my cottage.

“And I love what you said to me the last time I was worried that no one liked me.”

“What was that?” she asked.

“That if someone doesn’t like you, it’s not a problem, because eventually they will. I loved that. I’m always so worried about that. It’s ridiculous.”

“Yes,” she said. We talked some more and hung up smiling.

And I just remembered another Helenism: “Don’t worry. It’s a waste of time. AND, your face looks ugly cause it’s all scrunched up.”

That one always makes me smile. Because it’s true. And worrying is just a bad habit for me. Most of what we worry about never even happens.

I am very grateful to have people in my life like Helen. They remind me of who the world thinks I am, instead of the horrible stuff that my brain keeps telling me I am.

Thank you for calling me today, Helen. You are a gift.

Painting like Picasso – Freedom to Be the Real ME

A friend of mine was saying, “if I tried to paint like Picasso, I’d never paint.”

That’s true, I thought. You could never match up to the great Picasso.

“But if I try to paint like I can paint, I am free.”

Yes, that’s true. And that gave me more courage to write. Because if I compare myself to others, I might as well just dig myself into a hole. I’m not a technical writer. I don’t like to follow politics and give my opinions. I don’t keep up with current events. I don’t like to research.

What I love to do is to discover new ways to be free. To uncover limiting paradigms that are running my life. By seeing them, I become free of them. And able to create life in a new way.

For example, I’ve been very frustrated about my lack of weight loss. VERY! And upset about it.

In a conversation with my seminar leader, Annamarie, she asked me about it. I cried and we talked.

I realized that as a young girl, when my parents asked me to lose weight, I decided that I wasn’t ok unless I was thin.

That was the truth until yesterday. I was trying so desperately to become someone that my parents could be proud of. The key word is desperately. Frustrated like a two year old. Having tantrums.

“It’s not fair. I’m doing everything I know to do. I can’t stand this. I give up.”

Like that. Sort of a powerless victim.

“Did you ever consider that you were just fine way back then?” Annamarie asked.

“No,” I asked sniffling. “Definitely not. I really thought I needed to be fixed.”

“Well, what it you didn’t? If you were just fine however you are.”

“Well, I’ve given lip service to that, but I never believed it. It’s over the top of something is definitely wrong with me.”

At that point we lost the call. I got to think about it. What if I was REALLY ACTUALLY OK just as I was? What if I could just be fine however I am?

I’ve said it before, but I never really believed it. I was waiting to lose this weight and then maybe it could be possible. I could try to love myself as I am, knowing it was a temporary thing.

Distinguishing that paradigm has given me a real chance to actually love myself. I can walk around proudly for the first time. I can relax about the weight. I can do my best and try new things.

And I don’t have to walk around ashamed anymore. And that is a whole new world for me.

Welcome to my new world.

Are You Dating?

A friend of mine asked me if I was dating last week.

“NO,” I practically screamed. “Not at all.”

She lifted her eyebrows as if to say, “well you should be. What is wrong with you?”

Or at least that’s what I think she meant. And why aren’t I? I often wonder.

Today at the gym (where all my excitement happens), my friend Claudia asked me about our mutual friend who I will call Charlie. He was sitting right next to her on the spinning bike.

“He has a girlfriend,” I said.

“Not really,” Claudia said. “Well, he’s free now but we don’t know if it’s permanent…….” and she jabbered on.

“Don’t you like us talking about you as if you’re not here,” I said to Charlie.

“That’s why I put my head down,” he said.

Without asking if he was actually available, I walked away to go to my rowing machine. It was a long routine and I was distracted.

Why didn’t I date? Would I want to date Charlie? (He might not even be available).

What if I don’t like him? (I don’t even know him).

What if the cute guy asks me out? (He obviously isn’t going to).

What if I have a date with Charlie, meet someone else I like better, and Claudia hates me for taking advantage of Charlie? (Aren’t I jumping the gun just a little?)

We don’t even like the same things. (I really don’t now what he likes.)

And on and on. My brain went crazy.

Can I trust my instincts and run or can I not trust my instincts because it’s just my brain making shit up?

I really don’t know. I need to lie down. I’m falling asleep………………..

OK I’m back. I had to lie down on the couch. My heart was racing. I fell asleep after taking quite a few deep breaths to calm down.

I had felt like I was actually being threatened by something. Interesting…………..

This blog is called Creating Life Out Here. Not, have a nervous breakdown by thinking.

Let’s look at the actual facts:

I don’t know if Charlie is even available.
He didn’t ask me out so I don’t really have to worry about whether I want to go or not.
If he did, he’s not proposing to lock me up in a dinghy castle and throw away the key (which is the way it felt – I was going to be trapped into something and I couldn’t get out without the world falling apart).
Whatever I think I know about this guy is horseshit. I don’t know much and I’m jumping to conclusions based on gossip from Claudia or what my negative brain is making up.
IF he did ask me out, it would be for an hour or two, not the rest of my life.
And, he hasn’t and may still be with his girlfriend.
Nothing is actually happening right now.

So what can I do to unlock myself from the prison in my mind?

There are a few cute guys around. I can just start saying hi. They might be married or available. I can just start being friendlier. I won’t die. If there is someone who clicks with me, I can worry about it then.
I can still breathe. In and out. In and out.

JEEZ LOUISE – that was painful. What the heck is wrong with me? Why am I so freaked out?

Well, I’ll give you the reason if you want one – my last guy, S for Sociopath, felt SO PERFECT. I didn’t worry for one bit. IT FELT SO RIGHT THAT THERE WAS NO DOUBT!!!

And he was a SOCIOPATH. And one day I found out that he had lied. He wasn’t actually divorced and his wife was pissed. He needed to keep her happy so Asta La Vista, baby. Done. Finished. Get lost.

How do I trust myself ever again? How do I know I’m not trusting the wrong person? How do I let my guard down again without thinking the shoe will drop any second?

I guess I don’t know. I guess all I can do is try. And be willing to make mistakes and pick wrong people and just live again. And stop being a victim about something that is IN THE PAST.

I can get out of my little safe cottage and play. Talk to people. Do what I love to do. Trust the universe. Let go. Relax. Breathe.

The tears are in my eyes right now. I’m seeing how tight I hold myself, protecting myself from the next sociopath or womanizer (see last blog – hit on at gym).

I’m breathing. My shoulders are starting to loosen. I’m closing my eyes and asking God to help me be open again. Putting it in God’s hands. I can relax and trust the universe to take care of me instead of trying to control my universe by being so fucking tense that my body is always in pain.

I hear some people on the deck next store. I’m going to go out and say hi.

But first I need a few more deep breaths………………………………………………maybe a little later…….

I will go out in a few more minutes…………………………………wish me luck.

I Was Hit On at the Gym Today

There’s a 40 something guy named Steve who works out at the gym. He is married. He had a girlfriend until 5 days ago who was divorced, but she broke up with him because she has another married boyfriend that she likes better. Hard to follow, but true.

Steve is one of those guys that loves to talk to women. You wouldn’t think he would, because he looks like he is shy, very negative about life, and always putting himself down.

Maybe he’s just fishing for compliments, I don’t know. He always tells me how fat he is even though he is obviously in pretty good shape.

I wouldn’t think a guy like him would have enough confidence to go up to all the women. But he does, I’ve seen him in action. I compare him to one of my much older friends who wants a relationship but is too confronted to talk to one. Such different MO’s.

Anyway today Steve was kind of following me around, giving me helpful hints about what exercises to do. I’m always open to new ways to do each muscle, so I let him tag along.

“Would you like to hang out after work one day?” Steve asked suddenly.

Last year he had asked me the same question, but in my non-speaking up way, I always dodged the bullet. “Sure, maybe,” “text me” or something else inane and non-committal.

But this time I looked at him right in the eyes and said, “I don’t hang out with married men.”

“We could just try it and see how it goes,” he said. “You look very good and you are very attractive.”

“Really??” I asked. That’s certainly not my reality. “No one else ever says that.” Now who was fishing…….

“Yea. I’m surprised,” Steve said.

Now that I think about it. This is almost the same conversation I had years ago with another married guy who was hitting on me. I was very flattered that time, too. But, I learned that he was a wolf. He knew how to suck women in and then discard them. He used the same lines. Fascinating, I thought. These unassuming guys who really are not shy at all but know exactly what they are doing.

“Steve, I certainly take this as a compliment. I really do. But I’m just not going to go there. But thank you.”

I walked away to go to do my cardio on the rower. Maybe my walk had a little more bounce to it. Maybe I felt like maybe I wasn’t just old and unattractive for a couple of minutes.

Until I saw the guy I had a crush on walk out with another much younger girl.

“Oh well,” I thought. “That’s the one I would love to hang out with. But, he’s just not in the flow with me. I’m not going to chase him if there’s no interest. I will just keep my eyes out for what is easy and natural.” I didn’t even know the cute one’s name or if he was even available. No actual loss except another fantasy in my mind.

I tried to focus instead on feeling good that someone thought I was attractive enough to ask me to “hang.”

And, next time, hopefully the person will be single.

Great weekend – Feeling Fucked up

It’s Labor Day weekend. I’ve been with friends, relaxed on my amazing deck, eaten healthy, talked with family. And yet, I feel so fucked up. (And, I’m now allowing myself to swear because it’s a true expression for me. No more trying to be the good girl who everyone approves of — so take that if you’re tsk, tsking).

Driving home from the gym this morning I just had this big lump in my throat. What for? Everything is great.

So I will just stream of consciousness this…..

One of my friends is engaged. She came over yesterday. She told the guy to fuck off so now maybe she’s not engaged. After telling me about him he sounds like another socioopath. He’s perfect except for the couple of days a month when he’s really mean and takes everything out on her. And, what makes me very worried, he really wants to get married really fast and soon. What the fuck? And, there are situations that he has that in both of our opinions she should not sign up for.

I didn’t tell her I think he’s a sociopath. But, of course, it reminded me of mine.

And I got sad.

I started looking at that. When I was with S. (Sociopath), I felt like I was ok. Feeling loved was like a drug. I realized two minutes ago, for the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn’t alone. That there was someone there who REALLY had my back. I could go to him when I couldn’t figure something out and he would help me. He didn’t act like I was crazy or annoying.

It was wonderful.

Last night we had fun dancing at the block party down the street. The last two people left and I got this horrible feeling. “I am alone.”

It seemed weird to me since two minutes before there were people with me. And, I’ve had it before.

Like I’m all alone and no one cares and it’s ALL ON ME!!! Right now I’m just feeling this REAL HEAVINESS!! This BURDEN!! This heavy anvil on me.

I think I think that it’s my job to keep everyone happy. To do it all myself. To not ask for help. To be fine.

And really, all this little girl insides wants is for someone to REALLY love her and take care of her. To tell her she’s ok and can ask for help. That she doesn’t always have to be so strong or try to be good.

tt’s ok to tell people that I’d really like a life partner. To go through life with. To have someone I can rely on. Who can help me when things are hard.

During my 20 year marriage, my ex husband was reliable in some ways, but childish in others, especially our finances. I tried to turn a sinking Titanic around for 20 years but I finally decided I didn’t need to. I just got off the ship.

With S (Sociopath), I finally relaxed and gave my heart thinking I finally found someone who accepted me just as I was. And I didn’t feel alone. Only it was all based on a lie that he was single and available. And when his wife found out, he turned against ME. That was excruciating.

I’m having a good cry about this and it feels good to let this out. I’m tired of pretending I’m fine. I’m tired of trying to do it all myself. Of trying to please everyone and try to be who I think they think I should be. It’s fucking exhausting.

So who will I be instead? I don’t really know.

I’m reading “Lit,” by Mary Karr where she gets sober and is now finding God. Maybe I will pray. It seemed to work for her.

And give myself some space to just be fucked up right now.

Even though it’s a beautiful day and everything is great.

I’m allowing myself a good cry, a few minutes to pray, and to trust the universe to take care of me right now and forever more.

I guess it’s called letting go. It’s a strange but relaxing feeling.

Wish me luck.

PS I have to go so not reading through it again to edit it. Oh well.

I’m Not Creating, I’m Fearing

I was feeling so free a week ago, and writing freely.

The last few days, I’ve been coming up with ideas regularly, but somehow afraid to start writing about them. The reasons:

They are dumb – sociopaths
I’m not an expert – sociopaths
Why should I write about negative experiences (sociopaths)…..

OK, I get the message. I’ll just start writing about sociopaths…

I read a book where this girl is madly in love, gets married, has a baby, and then finds out her husband is having an affair. She is shocked and in denial. Subsequently, however, over the course of about nine months, she figures out that he was a sociopath. He was a liar and lead a completely separate life from the one she thought she had with him. His sociopathic (I made up the word) pattern: love bomb, destroy, and discard, then made sense. Upsetting, of course, but made sense.

She described the love bombing phase as “human heroin.” Her husband had sucked her in by becoming exactly who he needed to be for her to feel whole, special, and completely taken in by him.

Ever since then, I have been wondering if one of my exes was a sociopath. I, too, was addicted to him. His love bombing phase left me feeling on such an amazing high that I clung to him for a couple of years, even after the destroy and discard phases. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t shake it.

In my mind, I still thought we were meant to be, true love, and all the other romantic notions that the author of the book had felt. That’s what sociopaths do. They suck you in and make you feel like you are perfect, can do no wrong, and that you were made for them.

But then, they turn. My S. (for sociopath), became mean. All of a sudden, everything about me was wrong. He was mad and it was all my fault.

But I still hung on. Because the love bombing phase felt so good. I didn’t want to face real life. It was easier to cling to the fantasy that he had created. That never actually happened. Embarrassing to admit, but true.

The worst part, which I really hate to tell you, is that when things are hard, (like today), I still have the fantasy that S. will return, love me like he used to, think I’m perfect, take care of me, and I’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.

OK, don’t judge, I said it was a fantasy. I’m really (almost) completely over him.

And, I have to remember that he’s probably a sociopath. The evidence is below:

After the discard phase, I ran into S. I asked him if he had lied about everything.

“Not about how I felt about you,” he said without hesitation. “That was real.” He looked at me like he used to, with those amazing eyes and I got sucked right back in.

“Then how can you just turn it off ?” I asked, still hoping that ‘the look’ meant something.

“I don’t know,” he said.

But after reading about the sociopath, a light bulb went off. Sociopaths can turn off the love when they switch to the destroy phase. They are only concerned about themselves. The victim fills a need or use for them.

In the book, the S. needed a green card. For my S., I’m assuming that my adoration and worshiping, made him feel worthy and sufficient for a change. I don’t REALLY know. But when his wife found out about me (he had told me he was divorced), I was no longer convenient. He was now concerned about keeping his money instead of how I made him feel. So I was destroyed and discarded.

I don’t know if it makes sense to you, but I have needed to find an explanation. So I don’t keep blaming myself for driving him away. It was destined to happen. This was his pattern.

The thing that scares me about this is that how does one really know someone? What if I get fooled again? What if the next guy is a liar too? It seems like more than I could bear.

[Time out for a moment of sadness.]

OK, I’m back. That presumes that I am a victim without instincts and that I can’t trust myself to judge someone’s character. That I can’t ask questions and really get a feel for who someone is. That I can’t make sure that we are playing the same game.

And, that it’s safer to just stay in my little beach cottage alone, instead of risking being vulnerable again. And, I’ve gotten really good at that.

But is that what I really want? To let one sociopath (well, maybe there were others, too, at least ones who also lied), rob me of my real dream – to have a fabulous, loving partnership with a great man.

And I can safely answer “HELL NO!!” Why should I let the liars steal my dream? Why should I feel inadequate because I was trusting and loving? Why should I blame myself forever for believing them?

(I feel like that movie where the people are screaming out the windows (Network, maybe) and saying ‘they are not going to take it anymore.’)

Well, I feel better getting this out of my head. The sociopath book really got to me. I am ready to take on the world!!!!

P.S. This was one of the books I am reading to compare my own memoir to. It was tough to get through.

P.P.S. The memoir I’m reading now is about a complete drunk. It’s disturbing. If I didn’t know she went on to become a famous writer, I don’t think I could continue to read. More on that later.