Hopefull in NYC

[eclipse]

I should have paid more attention. Not only to my immediate circumstance, but also to Vanilla almost a year ago. It's a hard thing to admit, but I can no longer deny what I've come to learn: my wife is pathological abuser. Sociopath, NPD, psycho...the labels don't matter because in truth, they will never offer any meaningful description of what it's like to live with one, nor are there any currently any effective therapies for such people.

I can go on and on about the inhumane sh*t the W does and says. How she held secret communications, withheld affection and any sense of kindness, alternates between hot/cold treatment, expresses no care about the hurt she causes to anyone around her, and then denies any wrongdoing or blames everyone around her. She's even managed to successfully manipulate her therapist. But that's all textbook, and for my own sanity, I've started a private blog in case she ever manages to succeed at gaslighting/brainwashing me.

But I'm not really concerned for myself. I know why I stay and what will happen the moment I leave. I've already exposed her for what she is and she had to discard other people in her life for questioning her. She hates me for this, and deep down inside I know she hates our daughter for being perceptive enough to see through the charades. W hates our daughter because she's so much like me, and I am her mortal enemy now. And I know the moment I leave, she will turn her quiet, controlled rage onto our child. It's tragic, but within a year, D will emotionally outgrow her own mother and will have one less parent to look up to for guidance in life.

It's been a long road to recovery. I've spent months rebuilding my reputation at work following the nose-dive it took from the PTSD caused by the W suddenly walking out. I stay up at night reading about personality/character disorders so that I'm not caught off guard. I'm chasing my childhood dream of figure skating and I even have a partner now. I enjoy watching D do her gymnastics and she loves it when I teach her calligraphy. I balance all this against family outings in ways I never thought I could in the past, even tackling a terrible fear of flying.

I don't know how this will end. Honestly I don't have any hope of this ever being a normal family, but if I can at least keep the W from damaging our daughter for the next few years, she'll have some chance at a decent quality of life. I have to believe.