Surviving Narcissistic Sociopathic Abuse

I've read the stories of survivors speaking about their ordeal.  The lengths the narcissistic sociopathic abuser will go to torment their prey.  Thankfully, I can say there have been no court dates since January.  I cringe writing that - fearing somehow I've tempted fate and the court will send me a court notice for a visitation hearing.  There was a long dry spell of my abuser not contacting me except when he picked up Tot and that was only long enough for Tot to slip out the door before I shut it and locked it tight - watching to make sure he gets him safely in his car.  No one can really explain the anxiety that goes along with this type of survival.  I'd love to scream "It's over!"  In fact, my spirit wants so very bad for that to be the case.  Even through the dry spell, I'd check the mail for a court notice.  It's really about me getting in the mind of my abuser to see what steps he might take next because it's not over.  He still wants contact with me and I still vehemently fight it.  I blocked him from texting and / or calling me on my cell phone.  Thank God for the iPhone that affords me the luxury of blocking a caller. 

Then I read more stories so similar to mine.  Women fighting their way through survival for longer than my 4, going on 5, years.  Women who talk about the very same "dry spell" and then suddenly their abuser makes or attempts contact.  Contact which is far from normal.  Thankfully, my abuser is afraid of the court system and afraid of going to jail.  I have to constantly remind myself of my blessings in this.  He still visits Tot every weekend, but the times of pick-up and drop-off are erratic.  Personally, that's a blessing.  Ahh..but there's a double-edged sword.  On the weekend the visit happens to be both Saturday and Sunday, I have to make sure I'm home.  There is no guarantee my ex will keep Tot for the full allotted time of the court ordered visits.  That alone would give me cause to take him to court and force his hand, but that would also mean he might see that as a way to visually see me more.  He likes to fight and torment.  Whether it's verbally or mentally, is neither here nor there.  He strives to keep a negative chain.  So, I've kept my Irish-German mouth shut.  I let him pick Tot up late and bring Tot back much earlier than the norm.  It's been no eye contact and the fewest words necessary, mostly to Tot to tell him Mommy loves him as he leaves with my ex.  I've let my ex move 3 times in the last year without saying a word and not even demanding an address.  Knowing instinctively to let it ride - but that moment has changed.

The FBI could hire me for all the investigative work I do and the gut feelings that have kept me 3 steps ahead of a narcissistic sociopath.  Caller id with unknown numbers; gauging how many calls occur in that instance and determining if it warrants me calling the police to investigate further.  A number with an unknown area code.  That alerted me the most.  Receiving a text with that same unknown area code and it happens to be my ex sending me a text letting me know he's moved.   A week goes by and another random text.  Him knowing full well he can call the landline and leave a message.  So today I spoke up and out.  I asked for his address.  Waved my hand at his attempt to "talk". I kept my speech abrupt, precise, and to the point.  When he dropped Tot off an hour earlier than the normal visit time, I demanded the address and specifically told him no texting or calling my personal cell phone.  As he started arguing, I shut the door, locked it, and went about my business of blocking this new number from my cell phone.   I had grown comfortable with driving Tot the same way to his daycare every day.  Now I take a different route every time. 

It all sounds "old hat", doesn't it?  Let me be the first to tell you, it's extremely taxing and wearing on my spirit to constantly keep my guard up.  Depression and acceptance.  I roiled aimlessly in depression and now it's a depressing acceptance that this just might be how it will be for the rest of my life.  The erratic visit times on any given weekend.  Which, by the way, is a way for my abuser to keep me home and on guard.  It works.  Always on edge.  Wondering what a weekend might bring.  He sometimes doesn't bother to call (the landline phone) to leave a message he won't be picking up Tot.  It sometimes just hangs.  He also knows I share his unwillingness to return to a court and a judge that has no clue how to handle this particular situation.  So I handle it on my own.  I stay at home.  Like the damn good girl that I am.  Inwardly - silently - I pray for my ex to just leave Tot and I alone and let us go about our life.  Then I feel guilty about having the nerve to ask God of such a thing.  What if Tot is actually bonding with ex?  Then reality quickly steps in and confirms my thoughts.  Tot comes home and still very minimally speaks about his visits.  Tot still fights separation anxiety.  And then I want to scream.  Scream so loud it would break the windows in this house.  Tot wants a bond with ex but it just isn't there.  He asks me now on a regular basis "Is Daddy coming to pick me up this weekend?"  I have to be honest and say that I simply don't know.  I see his face and its smile instantaneously vanish.  He too is becoming numb to this.  I have to constantly tell Tot that he can tell me anything.  He simply doesn't know how to verbalize his confusion and frustration. 

My new job keeps me hopping throughout the week with some places wanting me to work on a Saturday.  Time away from my boy.  Time I desperately need to unwind and bond and play with my sweet boy.  Am I doing any of this right? God knows I'm doing the best I can.  At least the worst of the depression and the ever aching need for more sleep is subsiding.  I have a mother with her own health and mental issues and often wonder "Dear God, am I mentally unstable too!?" I have an older brother who often acts like my younger brother.  Always scolding him on how to act and react with Tot in this delicate visitation situation.  It ain't perfect but it's at least a semblance of a support system.  I could go into long, drawn-out details of my dysfunctional family but that's another blog that I simply don't have time for and I just throw my hands up and say "Crap! It is what it is." There isn't any understanding of the introverted soul in my family, so I often have to step outside of my comfort zone and speak up.  Expecting conflict at every turn.  At least my own soul searching allows me to look inward and see how better I can react (or lack thereof) in my familial zone.  So it's a constant inward search in a family that sees no need to inwardly search a damn thing.  Don't get me wrong.  They love me and I love them.  But I'm not about to call an apple an orange.  My mother is just now starting to see *me*.  And that's a very limited view.  Her own childhood was riddled with dysfunction in a time where that simply was not discussed, reviewed, or counseled.  Monday through Friday it's the same old droll.  Tot and I come home from work and daycare not wanting to talk and answer endless questions.  We are both introverts who need time to simply unwind.  And every Monday through Friday we both get hammered with questions.  Tot rebels and will outright scream.  I have to constantly explain myself.  I have to constantly ask for the questions to stop so Tot doesn't scream.  It's the very negative lifestyle I so hard try to avoid. 

I could go on but I'm sure by now you get the point.  This is damn hard and so damn depressing.  I pray God has big hands because I put it all in His hands.  I don't know what else to do.