Silence Scalpel Sharp

Some of the thoughts that kept me up last night are the hardest for me to wrap my head around:

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How is it possible to become invisible to a person who once loved you beyond reason?

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Finally understanding that someone would rather hurt you than be polite and that a person who you thought knew you inside and out is able to switch himself off emotionally to the pain and suffering he is causing

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That some people use shunning as a form of expression, telling themselves and others that they are the victim. They use silence to control the other person while denying they are the problem. They use passive aggressive punishment because of their own perceived demands by the other person

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Being ignored causes a pain that the body perceives as physical – fact

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I’d rather be hurt quick and clean with a truth than suffer the phantom limb of lost self-esteem and questions for a lifetime

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The only thing ignoring a person conveys is that you are too immature / frightened / calloused to behave decently. How cold can one be to know that your victim is suffering but feel justified to do nothing about it and go on simply ignoring it?

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The ‘Silent Treatment’ is a mind game and it is abusive

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I find it hard to let go if I’ve been led to believe one thing, even if I’m being shown another. I will give someone the benefit of the doubt to my own detriment. I will continue to reach out, to treat them with some version of the former friendship or regard because that is what caring people do. The one trait that I value highly in myself is my empathy and I won’t allow another’s cruelty or rude behaviour stop me from being who I am. If my intentions are perceived as weakness or neediness I can only remind myself that it takes courage and strength to reach out despite my misgivings. Why? Because I know that perceptions can only be changed when people communicate

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We’ve probably all done it or been subject to it. ‘The Silent Treatment’ is a schoolyard tactic and most of us know how quickly the shunned will fall in line. Why though, do adults choose to do this? I’m mystified that in this age that lauds communication, where people are constantly raging about lack of honesty in relationships and whingeing about decency in general; some people still fall back on acting like a bully to make a point or  to get what they want.

~ kei
29 February 2016
(I’m fine, just stringing together some old and recurring thoughts. K~xx)

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Thanks For The Life Lesson

I think I should change my blog name to “The Ex Mistress Whisperer”.

Catchy new name for where pathological philanderers get caught.

Oh…

LOL

Stop Thinking With Your Little Head

As always: I am writing from MY experience and it is with men. I am perfectly aware that there are female predators out there. There is zero requirement to point out the obvious to me.
Though I don’t have to defend, I will expand to say: I have many wonderful men in my life including my beautiful son, my Dad, brother, even my former husband.
Predators are NOT the norm or the majority.

Okay Ladies. There’s this thing. It’s better than Hermès on sale or finding Manolo’s at the thrift shop.

It’s called “The Sisterhood”.

Can we all please just get with the program, stop being catty, high school morons for a moment? Seriously, I never much liked my gender but that’s increased a million-fold since I started on WordPress.

There are bad men out there. They look like men, walk like men, may even speak in full sentences, write beautiful poetry or paint pretty pictures but they are not men.
They are predators.

If you’re just on here “For Play”, stop reading now – I don’t care about you. If any of you actually believe that you can have a meaningful relationship or that you know one fucking thing about someone on the internet – you are wrong and you are putting yourself and perhaps those you love at risk,

I’ve had well-meaning people comment off the cuff that you can get a sense of a person from what they share in venues like this. That statement is complete and utter garbage. I am an amazingly warm, loving,intuitive human (I’ll give you references if you need ’em) and I have been royally fooled once and had another person try to pull the same game again.

Here’s my proposal:

I have more experience than I want in this. I have resources. If this message reaches you and you have even the tiniest bit of doubt about the man you are communicating with, please – please – message me for those resources.

I swear, I don’t want anyone else’ man. I don’t stalk. I don’t chase boys. I am not a crazy bitch. I do not bite. Period. Hell! In the 3D world, I’m regarded as rather “a catch”!
But… that’s the primary way that these animals find their way in – divide and conquer.
What I am is someone who was victimized wholly and completely and in this little pressure cooker, I get to watch history repeat itself.

If you hear any of these, they are red flags:

I’m in a loveless relationship
I’m in an open relationship
None of them understand me
You’re the first one to understand me
I’ve never connected so deeply with another
I would marry you if I were single
It’s a business trip
I don’t know why she left me

There is a Sisterhood – it should transcend petty jealousy and contrived competition – we cannot sit around and trash men and their shitty behaviour when we turn around and do the exact same thing. Open your eyes! If a dude is going through women faster than loo tissue – who has the problem? Do any of you honestly believe that there is an endless stream of crazy stalker bitches just waiting to tear apart a man and that you are the only good, decent, understanding woman out there? Get serious. If that were the case, the human race would have imploded long ago. So many women are disgusted by men who “think with their little head”. What do you think you’re doing when you go after some dude without a care or a by your leave to the wife, girlfriend or partner? AS IF!! You just believe what some dude tells you and don’t even ASK her? Nice Human Race. Real integrity there.

Please, ask good questions and for the love of whatever… don’t fall for those same tired lines again. These guys get us because we ignore our own intuition and we piss on the Sisterhood the second a dick walks in the room. Is this what you want to teach your daughters?

I thought not.

I have resources, I have good ears for listening. I have solid facts and information.
You are welcome to use that “Message Me” tab way up at the top there.
Of course you don’t want to know the truth – that buggers up the fantasy doesn’t it?
I’m here to tell you, the fallout is a fucking shit ton worse.

Talk to each other!

~ kei
7 December 2014

I cannot thank deeply enough, the brave women who chose to hit “send”. You’ve validated all my suspicions and my responses. We’re all wiser and safer for that.
The resources I mentioned are all encompassing and if you are a man who has experienced or is in a relationship with someone who lies, cheats, is internet-obsessed, takes no responsibility, is always the victim; you may be involved with a Narcissist (or a shitty human being) these resources welcome and are helpful for men too.

She was a Monster

As I mentioned in my comment, I was riveted to the screen as I read this.
The single best gift you can give a friend who is sharing a similar story with you, is your belief. The fact is, Narcissist Abuse and how it is manifested by these predators will challenge your belief. It did mine, and my story is Charles’ with some variation. Even now, I am subjected to anything from benign disbelief and incredulity to flat-out blame and accusation.
Please read this exceptionally informative piece. Narcissist sociopaths present fairly equally in both genders but the stories of male victims are much fewer than female. It’s important to set aside our notions about victims of abuse in all instances and to encourage our sons and daughters to speak, tell and not be cowed by people who are simply not well-informed enough to believe. My sincere appreciation to Madeline for allowing me to reblog.

Madeline Scribes

There are some things only a handful of people know simply because I have not shared them. To me, they became sacred after my friend was tragically taken from us a few years ago. But today I think his truth needs to be told and in a way that he would want it to be told. I don’t think he would mind one bit.

Some people choose you and some are just a part of your life by default, but when a hive involving many, many folks from all walks of life comes to you equipped with people ready to attack you, that’s when life can get very disturbing. That’s what happened to me and the roller coaster ride I was about to take, along with the strange, unusual twists and turns I would experience trying to understand exactly how any of this happened, would take years for me to unravel. But…

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Hunted, Hurt, Haunted

Hunted
Just prey
In his sights
Lured with his words
Loved only as a pawn
His long distance trophy
An unwilling captive
Soul maimed
Caught

Hurt
My heart
Ripped to shreds
The gift reverently given
In hands filthy with his
Keystrokes to his whores
Lies of magnitude
The Devil
Envies

Haunted
Despised revenant
Creeping and crawling
Disturbing my midnight dreams
Smiling his protestations of love
Staining newborn clean thoughts
With his memory
This lingering
Ghost

~ kei
7 October 2014

So, Here’s The Funny

When one of my best friends, Roz says that, we all lean in a little closer. It’s usually the cue for a hysterically funny end to a long and involved story that she’s been telling.

My long and involved story is of course, my life and times with The Poetic Predator. A “man” – and I use that term grudgingly and with no intended insult to functional, adult males of the human species – that targeted me with the express purpose of stealing from me every human emotion that he could to shore up his puny, dysfunctional, Narcissist ego.

There are so many anecdotes from the almost two-year long “relationship” that make for a good story. In the early days, one of the best is how he would often tell me about his dream for us. How he wanted to leave the “backward” town he lived in and move here to continue with his writing and to share that with me. We were going to open a bookstore / coffee shop / knitting store .

I guess some might say that me believing him is one of the funniest bits but then, a lot of people still believe he’s a writer and a great guy. They were never exposed to his rage and endless stream of abusive emails, texts and telephone calls. They never saw the fake profiles that he used on Tumblr, WordPress and Facebook – including those he created to pretend to be his own children –  to shore up his stories to me. They never saw / choose not to see, his blatant stealing of other writer’s work.

I did believe for a long time. I initially ignored the niggles of doubt and I ignored the concerns of my best friend and even when I finally began to ask questions; there was always an excuse that he made palatable, if not believable. If that didn’t work, he’d begin an endless stream of abuse, create a fake surgery, or some other drama to draw attention away from the question at hand.

Back to the coffee shop.

At the time, I had no reason to doubt most of what he said. There’d been the first introduction into my world of female stalkers on the internet and I’d been enlisted (Gaslighted) to help him with that. One in particular (we’ll call her “The Other Woman” or TOW because this is the role he cast her in), kept showing up but after several episodes of her stalking, defaming and slandering – his words – he’d initiated a lawsuit against her and two others. He’d had me block her from my social media and from his Facebook poetry page, he’d blocked her from his Facebook profile – the one I knew about. His “daughter”, and “the teachers”: “Natasha” and “Sharon” were all sufficiently chastised for keeping his Facebook Page alive behind his back. We had one of those four to six days of calm in between dramas that eventually showed up as a pattern and were in a brief “Honeymoon” stage again.

And so… the coffee shop.

I used to draw a lot and paint a little. I wanted to give The Poetic Predator (PP for the rest of this story) something to encourage him, a tangible of his dream to hang onto and mark a new beginning for us. He’d been so put upon with recent events and don’t lets forget, his horrible late wife who was unfaithful when he was overseas fighting for his country, moved another man into his home to do so. She was spoiled, wouldn’t work, spent to point of bankruptcy and didn’t want their second child and wouldn’t feed said child when he made his appearance. None of this is true incidentally, except for the part about me. There is no record of PP having ever served with the army and apparently, his spouse was still alive and kicking at this point, though where remains a mystery to this day.

As a gift to buoy his spirits I designed, sketched then commissioned, a painting for him. I pulled in the elements that he and I had often talked about, his pets, his clothing style, even his dog tags (you can get those on Ebay, by the by). I added a catchy little name for our some day coffee shop / book store venture and then sent the works off to a friend and wonderful artist for the painting bit. It’s not an accident that it’s painted in the same style as the banner for my other blog. That work is a caricature of me that Cynthia painted for me several years ago. She brought this new piece to life so well, even to the shop front. I’d sent pictures of downtown Muncie to her so she could capture that flavour.

Poetic Painting v one

I KNOW, right?!

When it was done, I was happy and excited, Cynthia too, as she’d heard the reasons for the commission and she posted it to him. The day it arrived, he was so thrilled. He called me on the collar (err, phone) that he’d given me as I was coming home from work. He wanted to open it with me – so cute – ahem, barf. He was so touched, he was crying (he could turn on tears at the drop of pants). “you,,,make me cry..Karin this means more than anything..I love you baby..Karin I’m so moved by this” (sic)
He went on with how no one had ever done anything like this for him and “Baby, it’s beautiful, our dream”. He sent a photo of himself with the painting, apologizing for the tears. He was so overcome with emotion. The painting went on his living room wall and can be seen in many of the photos that he sent to me (and god knows who else subsequently). I was so happy that he was happy. I’d poured so much effort into this gift, one that I believed to be so thoughtful and meaningful. Little did I know that the only thing that ever moved him are his bowels.

I can hear the bated breath! 😉

A short time later, I used the picture of PP with the painting in a post to mark the publication of his first non-digital book. It went up on my Facebook page with a poem and a slightly mushy blurb about dreams coming true, tra-la, tra-la, to my co-Admin, PP. (Why yes! Yes he did have access to post at will there once upon a time.) What a shit storm that caused! The post was reported – ostensibly by one of the crazy female stalkers and there were so many at this point, I could have thrown said book and hit two of them! Kidding. Only a little – reported not once but twice and precipitously removed by the FB drones. I could not understand how anyone could take an exception to the post and put it up one last time with reference to my rights to it and took a screenshot of the last (I’m tenacious!) one in the event that it was reported again. I note the date: the 2nd report was on my wedding anniversary. Narc liked to jack special events like Grandmother’s birthdays, holidays, pretty much anything that’d take the spotlight off of him (even though I’d been separated over a year at this point, he liked to rub it in when he was raging).


Fuckhead Reported Painting 2014-03-23 at 12.59.47 PM

Fast forward to January of 2014. TOW contacted me. Bless her for her bravery. For as it turns out, she’d been sold a similar bill-of-goods about me and my actions. She and I established a truce that eventually became a friendship. Both of us have found peace and some solace in being able to fill in the blanks of the worlds that the Narc created for us. One of those was about “The Painting”. Here’s what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Within days of having received my gift, he contact TOW and told her that he’d commissioned this lovely painting of himself to represent the dream that THEY had of someday living and working together!!! Imagine her shock and hurt to see the same photo appear on MY Facebook page along with my deeply personal, though professional message of encouragement!!

We two girls damn near fell out!

She conveyed to me how she had often been hurt by some of the more personal things that myself AND my co-Admin had shared there and this time, she had torn a large strip off his arse, wondering what chicanery I was up to now and why did he allow me to post these terrible lies?! He responded predictably with blowing smoke up her arse and blaming me, as TOW had threatened to leave him. It was at this time that the post was mysteriously reported and yanked by Facebook.

TOW and I put the missing bits together and concur that Narc most likely reported the post HIMSELF to shore up his flimsy story to her. This must have killed him, considering the huge volume of comments and compliments that were placed there. Conversely, when I was understandably very upset about the reports (and the loss of my poem, which didn’t exist anywhere else) he attributed the report to one of the crazy women who was stalking him and jealous of me. Neat trick right? Poetic Predator was a whiz at orchestrating “twofers”. Make one look crazy and placate / enlist the other..

Where the hell is the funny? Right?!

My painting. My copyrights. My wonderfully talented friend redoing the image to reflect the current state of affairs. Narc-hole and I wrote three books together. Wait for it – not one, not two but three! – I like that phrasing. One of many other things that I’ve discovered along the way is evidence of his lack of concern regarding posting work as his own that other people have written. Thankfully, I had control over the online versions and removed them from publication. As mentioned in a previous post, I’ve edited those to remove the Arse-issist’s work and am now happy to let you know that:

KB Book Cover

“Remains Of The Prey” by Karin Bole Tupper is available for purchase at Smashwords, Amazon and other fine ebook retailers. The hardcopy edition will follow shortly.

One of my favourite quotes is “The best revenge is living well”.
Personally, I never wanted revenge, I leave that to Karma.
Justice though would be epic.