“You see. You’ve already started to adapt to the submission principle. I hold your life in my hands….You pleaded with me to improve your quality of life, and you did so by using reason and a little good manners. And you were rewarded.”1(p.449-450)
My only outlet was church activities, where his father was pastor. If I started to connect, even at church, I was discouraged from that activity. Discouraged with silence and withholding. What is important to note is you can never please a sociopath, though I tried with all my might. The faux camaraderie is only evident with complete submission to their needs. I shudder thinking about his expectations and what I gave up for so long. Even a flinch of an attachment or connection outside of him was met with a dark empty coldness difficult to describe. I started to have nightmares and struggled with distinguishing between reality and dreams. My mind was not able to handle the constant strain of contradiction. Peter suggested I see a therapist, recommended by his father. It was actually his father’s therapist and he thought she would be the best person to handle my mental illness; the whole family had become involved in “helping me.” I had become the “identified patient.” I had been selected to keep attention focused away from the real problem. I later learned this was a deep seeded family secret centered on sexual deviance and misogyny.