Here's some news for you Freak Boy...

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#1 Jan 20 - 11AM
spinning
spinning's picture

Here's some news for you Freak Boy...

Dear Freak Boy:

In my Buddhist training I am supposed to look at all beings with the eyes of compassion. Though it’s been exactly 14 months—426 days—since I’ve looked into your vacuous eyes, I must sadly report that I am yet unable to look at you with anything that remotely resembles compassion. The reason? Because I no longer care about you enough to muster it up. Because I save that compassion for myself and the good people on this earth. Because it is impossible for me to have compassion for the devil. And you have shown me that’s who you are, indeed.

When you swept into my life you were a hero. A guru. A cheerleader and champion of the underdogs—which at the time included me. You liked my “uniqueness” in the conservative community we shared. You liked my motorcycle. My short hair. The fact that some wondered and gossipped about my sexual preferences because I was a 47-year-old woman living on her own and not all hooked up. You liked my writing and you liked my sensitivity. My openness was sweet, you said, as was my naivete. Refreshing, you called it. You said me this early on. Just like you said you “loved me just exactly as I was” early on, too. I felt appreciated and understood at last! In reality, you were copying down the blueprint for my destruction.

Little by little you took all those things you said you treasured and pretended that they were your values, too. You stopped carrying your gun everywhere, including into my house where it was not welcome. You traded in your “storm trooper” look for “young college hippie dude;” something a little closer to my style and my tastes. You bought a motorcycle. You even used the exact same sentences, phrases and nicknames I gave things as if it was your language, your thought process. At the time I was flattered by this. You said you, too, wanted to walk the high ground and were comfortable on a spiritual plain. I thought you did these things to demonstrate our “connectedness;” that we were indeed two halves of a whole. Symbiotic twins as you used to say. Now I know you weren’t capable of that much thought or creativity. You simply held up a mirror...and a cheap one at that! How easy...though I shouldn’t be surprised as you are among the laziest people I have ever met. You never followed through on anything, but like a child I continued to believe...

Your stealing didn’t stop with my lifestyle and language. You stole from my refrigerator. My bedroom. My bank account. My heart. My trust. My mind. You took and took and took under the guise of your “grand and all encompassing love” and our “pre-ordained connection” but it was really your blatant sense of entitlement that motivated you, nothing more...oh, except maybe your complete lack of respect for any boundaries. The rules applied to everyone except you.

There is one thing that you were really good at, however: Torture. A master. A king. Your capacity to torture me was iconic. You used the knowledge of my pacifist nature and my non-judgmental, accepting attitude and waterboarded me. You knew I would accept your out of control sobbing fits; your odd sexual proclivities; your disappearing acts; your self-pity and perpetual “misunderstood-victim-everyone-is-out-to-get-me” mode, your wounded childhood adoption stories; your “lost-no-one-understands-me-except-you” routines. You knew I would never stand by while you harmed yourself. You knew I would risk my own safety and put my hands and arms into the flay to stop you from pounding on your face; from cutting yourself in your disturbing rages. You did that to deflect from the situation at hand. You did that to shock me into submission. You went silent to shock me, too. You disappeared as a shock tactic. How perfectly shocking, not to mention confounding and mind-bending, for you to kiss me goodbye in the evening, say you’ll call me in the morning and we’ll meet for dinner knowing you had no intention of calling or responding to my calls or my frantic attempts to find you, talk to you, ask you what “I did wrong;” to beg you to speak to me. You were a master of this kind of torture. Outstanding. I should send you the gold plaque; the blue ribbon; the grand prize in this category.

I had never encountered such behavior, nor had I been treated in such a way ever by someone who “couldn’t live without me.” It was very confusing and painful. You designed it that way, of course. I know this now. Love equalled pain; it was brilliant conditioning. It made the crumbs you’d toss my way feel like a banquet to a starving man. When that torture treatment quit working—I was numb to your nonsensical behavior by then—you started raising your fists to me. The holes you punched in the hallway are still there. The marks you left on me are long gone and I know you refrained yourself from taking me out completely—though you came close that fateful October day. I didn’t even care. I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t anything. I was already gone. I don’t thank you for that as it is ludicrous to be grateful that you didn’t break my jaw. I am, after all, such a scary 5’2,” 125 lb. woman...right? That’s why all 6’ 180 pounds of you had to act that way to get me “under control,” correct? You were a terrorist and terrorism has long been the tool of the weak against the strong, though I wasn’t feeling very strong by then.

Freak Boy, aside from being the grand master of torture and chaos, I have nothing else good to say about you. There is nothing good about anything you did in my life...except lead me here. Here is where I have found the validation you pretended to give me. Here is where I found unconditional love. Here is where I found myself...no longer naive, but finally more whole and wise.

I’ve said goodbye to you a thousand times over the years. I’ve forced myself to sever you from my mind and my psyche. An amputation. The pain was searing. You wormed into every single part of my life, and I let you out of the deluded belief that your “grand and all encompassing love” for me was real. That your words had meaning. You were that good! So I suppose that’s another “good thing” I can say about you. You were an outstanding liar and a fabulous actor. Award winning again! I lay the statue at your feet. I bow to your phenomenal prowess in that regard!

If you’re curious about the tone of this “farewell” letter, don’t be. The sarcasm you hear is real. The loathing that seeps through these written words is directed solely at you. The disgust and disdain...yep, that’s real too...and all for you. You’re the grand prize winner of all these things. It seems I’m still giving you things. That will stop one day, too. These things--loathing, disdain, apathy, you have earned and deserve. But you’ve yet to earn my compassion. There’s none of that for you. So it is yet again another “lesson” you lay at my feet. This one will be a real challenge...to reach a point where I no longer despise you; a moment when I can look at you and feel nothing but pity...or better yet, feel nothing at all.

Yes, Freak Boy, you are the gift that keeps on giving...though not in the way you originally designed. You no longer own my thoughts, my heart, my mind, my psyche. You know nothing about who I am now. And if you did, you’d run away from me so fast it would be funny. And I love that. And for that and that alone, I thank you.

Most sincerely,
(totally not) spinning. BECAUSE YOU’RE SO F’N NOT WORTH IT!

Dec 28 - 3PM
SunshineandLight
SunshineandLight's picture

He sounds like the Devil.

May 3 - 7PM
Lookonthesunnyside
Lookonthesunnyside's picture

spinning this is so

Feb 12 - 12PM
Hunter
Hunter's picture

You deserve true goodness..&

You deserve true goodness..& true love Hunter
Feb 10 - 9AM
pamela1
pamela1's picture

I could have written the same

I could have written the same story....Good for you that you have moved on and left the ugly freak boy behind. Your words give me hope that I too will be ok one day. I am only a week into NC...At the moment, the pain is searing...and I feel like I survived the electric chair!
Feb 9 - 12PM
fallingfoward
fallingfoward's picture

Beautiful

Beautiful letter, (not) spining. It spoke the truth and was so heartfelt. I so admire your strength with this whole situation and it shines through in this letter. Hugs
Feb 4 - 9PM
davskiss
davskiss's picture

OMG!

Some day I too hope to write such a letter. I'm currently in the thick of things, but everyday I'm getting stronger and stronger. When I read your letter, I cried. I want feel liberated and free of this chaos too. I know the day will come, I have to simply make a blue print and build! And I will.. You are so strong, thanks you for sharing with us. DS
Feb 10 - 9AM (Reply to #11)
pamela1
pamela1's picture

DS..I too am in the thick of

DS..I too am in the thick of things..I am just starting to see my way out of the fog. The spinning is slowing down just a little....It all feels so raw...one day we will both be stronger and be able to write a similar letter as this one... Hang in there...
Jan 24 - 3PM
HardToBelieve
HardToBelieve's picture

Touching.

This was very touching. It's like you read my mind like an open book. This could have been me. Thanks for putting your thoughts into scripture and for sharing this with us. It gave me some closure aswell because alot of what you said are things I've been meaning to say too.
Jan 23 - 4PM
Femmegem
Femmegem's picture

Love this letter!

This is amazingly written. I love that paragraph too. So not f***ing worth it. Damn right X
Jan 20 - 2PM
Done sourcing
Done sourcing's picture

Even I have boundaries. Over

Even I have boundaries. Over a year and a half out and I can see more clearly, as you can as well. Clarity is essential, and with this clearness of mind and thought I can see the non-sensical nature of these freaks. The emptiness that resides within. It is frightening, and pervasive, and yet remained invisible to me for so long. I wanted to post that the devastation comes with the territory. As does the erosion of trust. And of sensibilities. And self respect, and also perspective diminishes as the obsession with them and their unique needs and attitudes intrude upon our common sense and our desire to support and love those we care for and want to see happy. What a waste of our empathic nature. Our openness to people signals our potential destruction. Ironic, isn't it! The comment about the raided refridgerator triggered me because my narc had no food boundaries, nor clothes, nor any personal property. It was all there for her to use, laughingly. It drove me nuts, she took for her pleasure, instant gratification, the thoughtlessness of a small child. Urgg. Don't fuck with my cheese and salami and wheat thins, these things are sacred to me, kinda, ok...not that much, but they were a symbol of my need for some sense of respect, boundary, and normalcy. But she took what she wanted with reckless abandon, and ended up getting all of me swallowed up in her world of chaos and mirrors. Thank goodness sanity returns. And our instinct for survival. And our need to understand and make sense of it all. And ultimately our innate yearning to grow through it and get better, stronger, and whole. With my clarity I know I want to be clear, unimpeded, and free to roam this earth unencumbered with resentment and fear. Free of the darkness that almost took me out. There is something cleansing and liberating that lies beyond the hatred we experience. And I think something even beyond the indifference. It is starting to become illuminated in me, wispy and non specific as of now, but it seems to be taking form. As it grows, it will be awesome, this I know. It looks like a powerlessness that surrounds her, a new inability to shock me, to engage me, to shake my new found sanity. She has nothing for me anymore except to provide a lesson. Hard to be grateful for the lessons while getting hit over the head and it hurting so bad. But with distance and perspective, and with new friends and fresh attitudes, it gets easier to look at all of it with open eyes and a clear heart. This process has been re-generative, thank God. I am a prisoner pardoned, with no need to look back over my shoulder, to fear the shadow of her presence. Will it look like compassion? I have no idea. But I am free now. ds- the sick freak-girl got locked out of the fridge and needs to go find her own cheese and crackers, as I see through her as if she wasn't even there!
Jan 20 - 2PM
alicat
alicat's picture

This is so wonderful!!!

This is so wonderful!!! Perfectly written! It is a letter that I could have written to mine! Scary!
Jan 20 - 1PM
needing2know
needing2know's picture

AWESOME!

AWESOME!
Jan 20 - 1PM
StudentOfLife
StudentOfLife's picture

Oh, i LOVE this post,

Oh, i LOVE this post, No-Longer-Spinning!! Love it! Especially that last paragraph. "... You no longer own my thoughts, my heart, my mind, my psyche. You know nothing about who I am now. And if you did, you'd run away from me so fast it would be funny. And I love that." You are no longer spinning, you have found your power!! Big hugs, much Love & Light to you , Spinning!
Jan 20 - 12PM
LightAtTheEndOf...
LightAtTheEndOfTheTunnel's picture

I raise my cup to you

I raise my cup to you Spinning and pour a little juice out for the douche ;-) xx
Jan 20 - 11AM
Used
Used's picture

spinning

ABSOLUTLY AMAZING... THANKGOD YOU GOT OUT... COMPASSION FOR HIM...THEM... I DON'T FXXCKING THINK SO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOVE FROM USED, TO MY DEAR FRIEND SPINNING , WHO I HAPPEN TO KNOW RARELY SPINS NOW....XXXXXXXXXX
Jan 22 - 12PM (Reply to #2)
Snowflake
Snowflake's picture

Not spinning

Your term freak boy really makes me smile x