When I first decided to launch Lessons of Charity, I thought I was ready to share what I had gone through in the last couple of years. I wanted to share what I experienced and what I learned as a way to guide humanity towards something better.
I started making my editorial list of topics that I wanted to take on. I spent hours researching and reading to make sure whatever I wrote would have facts to back it up. I got out a couple of blogs and then… stopped.
Every time I sat down to write; I couldn’t. I would stare at the blinking cursor, almost in a trance, waiting for the words to come. They would eventually, but they weren’t the words I wanted to hear. Ever so softly came the whispers of the trauma that I endured. It was the cutting words from someone I once loved unconditionally and others who took the bait in his sea of lies. “I wasn’t good enough, obnoxious, undesirable, annoying, crazy, a bitch, a cunt, a terrorist, broken, pathetic, I didn’t know what I was talking about, it wasn’t that bad, it was all my fault.” Even if I managed to get a paragraph or two out, I convinced myself that it wasn’t good enough.
I felt defeated. I have been writing all of my life and many times it was about my life. Writing about my life used to be a part of my job. I have always been an open book. I’ve never been ashamed or embarrassed by anything in life, especially trauma. I have never allowed the voices of others to silence me. How could I take on a project of inspiration when I failed to find inspiration within me?
I was so disappointed and angry at myself because I had tried everything (and I mean everything) to get back to the old me. Talk therapy, hypnotherapy, brain spotting, EMDR, DBT, NLP, neurological and psychological evaluation, journaling, past life regression, timeline therapy, parts integration therapy, yoga, Reiki, crystals, tobacco cleansing, and even a visit to the underground to face the demons that were possessing me. I listened to every podcast and read every book and article I could find on sociopathy, narcissism, toxic relationships, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, gaslighting, and complex PTSD. I consulted professors, psychologists, psychiatrists, neurologists, experts in multiple subjects, psychics, mediums, and took a deep dive into my heritage thinking maybe I was cursed.
Now, don’t get me wrong, every single thing did help… little by little. I went from crying every day for a year straight to once a week, and now only during emotional flashbacks or nightmares I still experience to this day. Still, I was struggling with anxiety and the voice of unworthiness continuously whispered.
I needed to understand what happened and why I felt the way I did if I was ever going to fully get back to who I once was. I told myself that once I had the answers, I would be healed and I would be able to write once again. I would revive Lessons of Charity, share my wisdom, and hopefully help humanity along the way.
That was almost a year ago, but it feels like ten. During that time, I did find some of the answers I was looking for, but I’m still far from finding them all – pending I ever will. It hasn’t stopped me from looking though. It has only expanded my field of study from psychology to astrology to spirituality and now to genetics. When I am not working or giving my full attention to my dogs, I am taking college courses online, reading books, watching videos, and listening to podcasts on Human Design.
Still, the question remains. Am I fully healed and back to my old self? Simply put, no. During this time, I have experienced a re-awakening to things that I have lost, but also a new awakening to things that I never would have thought possible. To be awakened, I had to put to rest the old me. She’s never coming back. I still mourn her at times, but I have come to love and appreciate Charity 2.0. I’ve upgraded myself and in the process been assessing my “worth.”
It turns out that my writer’s block wasn’t coming from my lack of knowledge, it was coming from my lack of self-worth. I realized that I was using my quest for answers as an excuse to avoid my fears of “not being good enough” to share my story. Worthiness had been at the forefront of this battle, and it was a competitor that I had never faced before. Although it took time, I finally figured out that the enemy that I was fighting wasn’t mine. It was someone else’s rival within themself that I took on to fight for them.
That’s what happened when I gave my love and loyalty to a sociopath for years. Now please understand, I don’t say the word “sociopath” lightly. I say it because that is the designated word for what he is – psychology verified. Let me make myself more clear. When I use that term, I am stating what he is – not who he is.
I say that because I don’t know who he is. I thought I did, but I was wrong. So, I use the word “what” because it is how he behaved and what he did. I don’t think he even truly knows who he is because his actions never met his words. That is why many people don’t see the dark side of another unless they challenge the environment that the person created, even if that environment is toxic.
Anyone and I mean anyone, is capable of change (when the condition they are in is not one of permanent physical disability) despite what many in the psychological field will argue. However, change isn’t easy so the reason for change – or the motivation to change – has to be greater than the reason to stay the same. If someone doesn’t change after they almost kill a person – twice – they don’t have the moral capacity to understand the difference between right and wrong or consequences.
A sociopath has very little reason to change because they simply deny the existence of a problem or believe that they are above consequences. This is reinforced by those who enable a sociopath’s actions, known as “flying monkeys,” usually being friends or family members.
Most people don’t understand the dangers of a sociopath, narcissist, or any highly toxic person until they have lived through the turmoil of dating one and if they are lucky, survived it.
I can confidently say that if I knew then what I know now, our story would have ended in a very different way. I am slowly starting to share the story because I know there are so many people going through what I did. I have heard their heartbreak and anger and witnessed their frustration and tears. There are countless books out there on how to heal from toxic abuse, and I am pretty sure that I have read 90% of them. They all tell the same story, which is helpful, although many are cut and dry and mistakenly rooted in psychological attachment issues and trauma.
Now don’t get me wrong – that is a major element, if not the main one, of most toxic situations, but it’s a lot more complicated than that when other factors and beliefs are at play. I hope to convey that when the full story is written. I had anticipated having it done by now, but to write about my past requires me to relive it and that can only be done in baby steps at this time.
Another reason I have been hesitant in sharing the story is because I was holding on to hope that I wouldn’t have to. I wanted my ex to be the one to share the story. I wanted him to come clean because then I would know he has changed. There are steps that need to be taken for someone of his nature to change, much like AA’s twelve steps, except there are thirteen. However, he decided to leave things in hate and has tried to erase my existence along with our two dogs that I know miss him dearly.
I would be lying if I said a part of me didn’t mourn him as well. No matter how things ended or how much pain he caused me, it wasn’t all bad. It never is. He was my best friend, and I did genuinely love him – more than anyone I’ve ever loved. I think that is the hardest part of all. To find out all the love and loyalty given wasn’t ever truly given in return. It was simply a means to an end.
They say that time heals all wounds, but that’s not the case with complex PTSD. Your mind might be able to block some things, but your body is a constant reminder. But then again, I suppose it hasn’t been that long. I only stopped speaking with him about 10 months ago when I finally reached my breaking point catching him in yet another lie.
Trust me, it wasn’t easy. I had to make some sacrifices I wasn’t prepared for, but I know it was the right choice as the universe has had my back through it all. I also have learned that my experience was part of a bigger reason to get me where I am now and where I’m going.
One part of that is showing how that there needs to be a clearer understanding of trauma as well as a widespread campaign of how to recognize the signs of someone that is suffering from psychological or emotional abuse. Passing people off as “crazy” or “sensitive”, especially in the judicial system, is ignorant and unjust.
There also needs to be a more open-minded approach to figuring out how to help people. I mean look at what I went through. All of the modalities I went through that couldn’t help me understand. It wasn’t until I discovered Human Design that I was able to comprehend the why’s and the WTF’s about my life.
Combining what I know now about neuroscience, psychology, genetics, and Human Design has given me a whole new way of looking at human behavior and made me realize it’s not something that can be put in a box. I studied over 300 charts of every kind of criminal looking for a common link but found that honestly, anyone on this planet is capable of good and evil. It comes down to which side we let win inside of ourselves.
Most may have heard of this old Native American story:
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, “My son, the battle is between two “wolves” inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
Although wise sounding, that is not the full story. It’s been edited to make us fear our dark side. To be ashamed of it and hide it instead of getting to know it and understand it. Because in our fear lies our traumas and that is what triggers the darkness. It isn’t until you face the darkness that you can see the light. It doesn’t mean the darkness or shadows go away, but you no longer have to fight them. When you try to control one wolf by starving it, eventually it will go mad and fight for its survival.
These are some of the lessons I am aiming on implementing in this blog and am hopeful that they will guide others on their path towards healing. Please know that when my story is told, it will be the full story – the actual truth, because if history has taught us anything it is that eventually the truth always comes out one way or another.
The old Cherokee simply replied, “If you feed them right, they both win.” and the story goes on:
“You see, if I only choose to feed the white wolf, the black one will be hiding around every corner waiting for me to become distracted or weak and jump to get the attention he craves. He will always be angry and will always fight the white wolf.”
“But if I acknowledge him, he is happy and the white wolf is happy and we all win. For the black wolf has many qualities — tenacity, courage, fearlessness, strong-willed, and great strategic thinking–that I have need of at times. These are the very things the white wolf lacks. But the white wolf has compassion, caring, strength, and the ability to recognize what is in the best interest of all.”
“You see, son, the white wolf needs the black wolf at his side. To feed only one would starve the other and they will become uncontrollable. To feed and care for both means they will serve you well and do nothing that is not a part of something greater, something good, something of life.”
“Feed them both and there will be no more internal struggle for your attention. And when there is no battle inside, you can listen to the voices of deeper knowledge that will guide you in choosing what is right in every circumstance.”
“Peace, my son, is the Cherokee mission in life. A man or a woman who has peace inside has everything. A man or a woman who is pulled apart by the war inside him or her has nothing.”
“How you choose to interact with the opposing forces within you will determine your life. Starve one or the other or guide them both.”