A devil in wolf’s clothing.

Once upon a time, I dated a liar.

He wasn’t just your average, garden variety liar, though; you know, someone who lies to get out of trouble, or someone who lies to spare feelings, or someone who lies because they’re ashamed of who they are, or maybe they just haven’t learned the value of the truth. Nope. Every single word, every utterance that came out of his mouth was some form of manipulation or deceit.

If breath or a burp could be a lie, his would’ve.

He lied about his age and, when called out on it, he lied about lying about it. He lied about owning his home. He lied about where he was, and who he was with, when we weren’t together. He lied about his online activity. He lied about his relationships with other people – specifically, other women. More specifically, the other woman he was dating/sleeping with when he and I were purportedly dating/in a relationship. He lied to her about me, too. He lied about his travels. He lied to everyone about the nature of our relationship, and what he told them varied by who they were. He lied about himself, his nature, his past… every possible thing he could lie about, he did, and no one in his life was immune. He lied to his parents, his friends, his other girlfriends, his ex-wife, complete strangers… everyone.

About everything.

And it wasn’t just lying, either; the lies were coupled with methodical manipulation via every possible avenue. He’d get information and then use it to his advantage to keep people tied to him in some unhealthy way. Say things you want to hear, and then make you feel like shit for believing it. Or say terrible things and tell you you’re imagining that they’re terrible. One minute you’re his favorite; the next minute, there was something so wrong with you he’d never be able to get over it. He would find the things about yourself you valued most and in one breath reaffirm those things, but in the next breath, he’d berate and belittle you for them. One minute you’re dating, the next he can only be friends – but as soon as you start treating him as a platonic friend, he’d revert back to treating you like an intimate partner, and as though the previous situation never happened. One night he’d yell at you and shame you into staying small; the next morning, everything is fine and he has no idea what you’re talking about.

I think they call that “gas-lighting.”

Groundwork was consistently laid to confuse, to keep you off balance, to deny, deny, deny – and to ensure you would never pursue the lines of inquiry that might expose the clever ruse. The only way I learned for certain of his “affair” (read: ongoing infidelity, despite his protestations to the contrary and his insistence that I was obviously just insecure and suspicious and imagining things; that he had no interest in those other women but if I want to look crazy by reaching out to talk to them, that was on me, etc. etc. etc.) was a message exchange with the other woman. She reached out to tell the truth, and I appreciated that, regardless of any underlying motivations on her part. It was the affirmation I’d needed, that I wasn’t imagining things and I wasn’t, in fact, crazy.

Topping all of it off was an impenetrable and distinct lack of remorse, and an apparent delight in the manipulation of others. No real concern for feelings or well-being, no second thoughts about behavior or consideration of impact, although he would occasionally pretend to care. Everything was self-serving, and he spent nearly every waking moment playing puppet master, as though he thrived on the power he felt in controlling other people. When confronted with the truth, the ease with which he either lied some more, or turned it around to shift the blame and focus on someone else (usually me) was, for lack of a better word, remarkable.

With some time and distance allowing for further reflection… it was frightening.

Almost immediately after meeting him, I suspected something was off. A few months in, I knew there was something seriously wrong. I started to distance from friends a little; some of them dropped me completely, and I began to shut down and withdraw. Anxiety was ever-present, doing its best to call attention to the bad situation I was intentionally keeping myself in. I put a pretty damn good face out there for public consumption, but the reality was chaotic, unhealthy, damaging…

And yet, I stayed.

FOR A YEAR.

I was kept so confused and off-balance, I stayed thinking it must be me; there must be something I’m not doing right, or there must be some way to make this work, or maybe things are just meant to be this messed up, because we also managed to have some fun in there, so it wasn’t ALL terrible, right? There were promises of greatness, hints of something better… but it was all part of the deception he reveled in maintaining. And I played right into it.

Suffice to say, I stayed in it as long as I needed to in order to learn the things I needed to learn (I don’t recommend that if you can help it), and thankfully, I don’t ever need to go there again. Severing those ties was certainly one of the best and healthiest thing I’ve ever done for myself. Tough lessons, but so very good, and necessary, and permanently etched. There were continued attempts on his part to keep me tethered and engaged, but as with most bullies, when you stop paying attention and refuse to engage, they get bored and move on to something else.

So then, why am I bringing this up? Because I think it’s important to differentiate between a person who tells a lie here and there, and a person who is constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves or anyone else, to the point where it could very well be a diagnosable mental illness/personality disorder. The difference between someone who maybe made poor decisions in the past but has the potential to make it right, and a person who is clinically ill and incapable of doing anything but lie, cheat, manipulate, and harm. The latter isn’t even remotely harmless; anyone and everyone impacted by that person’s behavior is left altered in some way. There is no way to have a healthy interaction with a person like that, regardless of effort on your part.

And why else am I bringing this up?

Donald Trump.

I’m not even sure I need to take it any further than that, but I will just say a few things about this would-be President of the United States:

  • Watching Donald Trump stand/hover/loom behind Hillary Clinton at the 2nd debate was like watching a caged animal, or an attempt at intimidation, and it was scary.
  • Knowing he brought Bill Clinton’s accusers to the debate as a means of belittling and shaming Hillary – using their pain for his gain – was scary.
  • Listening to him so easily lie when confronted with things he’s said or done (things that have been documented as truth) is scary.
  • Knowing he’s intentionally hiding information about his own financial situation in an effort to maintain a certain reputation is scary.
  • Hearing the way he talked about how he can take advantage of women because of his celebrity was scary.
  • His complete lack of remorse or willingness to own his part is scary.
  • Watching, reading, and hearing people leap to his defense because “he says what we’re all thinking,” to justify  – nay, celebrate – all of these behaviors, all for the sake of “shaking up Washington,” IS SCARY.

Don’t get me wrong. HRC is nowhere near perfect (nor was she my first choice, nor does that matter because that’s not what we’re talking about here), but you can be damn sure I will vote for her if it means keeping a sociopathic/narcissistic/anti-social personality disorder out of the office of the presidency.

Y’ALL. You know we have the power to change this, right? Nothing has to be the way it is, and everything can be different, if and when we decide we’re no longer okay with the way things are. I’ve been marveling over that truth: that if we weren’t so damned determined to hold on to our beliefs and so convinced that they are correct, or so convinced that we are powerless to change things, we might see that what we believe is what we’ve been taught and shown, and how things are isn’t how they have to be. We absolutely have the freedom AND the power to change that. Like racism: it’s not innate, it’s learned. Imagine what life would look like if no one had ever been raised to think of another human being as “less than?”

Anyway. I don’t claim to know much of anything about politics, especially with as convoluted and partisan and covert and messy as things have become… I don’t even know who or what to trust anymore, or where to start looking for reliable information. You know, the actual TRUTH, not just biased half-assed reporting.

But I have finally learned to trust my gut when it comes to humanity and human beings. I’m a pretty good judge of character, thanks to years of experience and lessons learned, and I can recognize when something is WRONG that has nothing to do with whether or not I like you as a person. When something is off about someone, I can sense it; when they’re sick, or toxic, or even just unhealthy, my hackles are raised all the way up, and the protective shields go up with it. At this point, that’s enough for me to go on.

Donald Trump is toxic, in every sense of the word.

Dangerously so.

Yet there are people who still fervently believe he is the better choice. That the stories coming out about him are false, or that they don’t matter, as long as Hillary doesn’t win. There are people who RELATE to him (I think that’s the worst part for me). They’re willing to turn a blind eye to his lies, manipulation, misogyny, and explosive temperament for the sake of teaching Washington and us bleeding-heart liberals a lesson.

Right now, our country feels so polarized between those who maniacally value flags and songs and ideas of nationalism and personal freedoms more than they do other human beings, and then the rest of us who want everyone taken care of, no matter their color, sexual preference, gender, or religious beliefs. Bootstrap mentality vs. the need for empathy and community. I never looked forward to a Bush presidency, or a Romney presidency, but I never actively feared them, either. This is different. I can’t imagine what a Trump presidency would look like, but if I have to find out, I just hope we emerge relatively unscathed, that the lessons we learn come with a long-lasting side of empathy and act-right, and that we never, ever have to go there again.

Errant thought repository post.

It has been entirely too long since I’ve written here (or journaled regularly, for that matter). Initially, I engaged in the age-old self-deprecation for letting the writing go, you know, finding some way to beat myself up for not doing a thing that I claimed to love and need so much. But it crossed my mind, and Noelle TWT confirmed, that maybe I just don’t have as much processing to do these days because I’m HAPPY. And that sounds right to me.

That said, there are still plenty of things rolling around in my head, and those are the thoughts I’m going to leave here for the time being. Maybe expound on them at a later date. I have a separate piece I’m working on where I compare Donald Trump to an ex in an examination of why I experience visceral anxiety and fear at the thought of a Trump presidency, but that warrants its own space, I think.

  1. I’ve spent a lot of time finding ways to relate to people who are different in their belief systems. For instance, I work for a faith-based organization, and the majority of people who work there ascribe to that particular faith, and it’s ever-present in the culture. I am one of the few who don’t. And then, there are people in my life who fall firmly in the right-wing camp; I absolutely don’t. But it is important to me to try and find ways to connect and relate to and understand these folks, and what I’ve realized is that, if you view people as coming from a different culture, it’s a whole lot easier to accept the differences, if not overlook them completely.
  2. At work, I filter out the words that don’t apply, and at the bottom of it all, the gratitude we share is the same. They direct theirs to God; mine just… is. They pray, and I send my good thoughts out into the universe. We are all driven by the same desire to help and be of service; where it comes from, or to where/whom it’s attributed, doesn’t matter.
  3. The political thing is much more difficult, though. I can understand the desire for something different than what we’ve had. I get that people are tired of “career politicians” or “politics as usual.” What I cannot fathom is why anyone would think Donald Trump, in all of his horrible, abusive, misogynistic, bigoted, small-minded glory, would be the best choice. When I hear people say they’re tired of being “PC”, what that tells me is, you’re tired of being held accountable and expected to act right towards other people. When I hear that you like Trump’s plain, unfiltered talk, what that tells me is that you want a champion for your own ugly thoughts and beliefs. Even if you support him because you think he’s going to protect your gun rights, or your money, or something else, the bigger picture is not being taken into account, and it’s a selfish move. “I don’t care how his presidency impacts anyone else but me and my stuff.”
  4. And that leads me to something else… people in this country sure do seem to care more about a song, or a flag, or an idea, or their STUFF (guns, property, institutions, etc.) than they do other human beings. Why is that? Why is it more important for a business to have the right to refuse service to someone than it is to protect the rights of ALL people to be treated equally? Why is it more important for one provider to have the right to refuse mental health treatment to multiple patients based on his/her lifestyle or sexual preference? Why isn’t the greater good more important to more people?
  5. Government doesn’t always get it right, but it certainly does force us humans to act right. If there weren’t laws in place requiring equal treatment under the law, I guarantee – very sadly – there would be a whole lot more overt racism, bigotry, and divisive practices happening than already are.
  6. And then… why is it so hard for people to grasp the concept of Black Lives Matter? Why do people default to thinking in absolutes, where if you say “Black Lives Matter,” you must mean that no one else’s does? Why does it mean, when you want to hold the police accountable, that suddenly you hate ALL police? Why does criticism equate to wholesale condemnation? Why are some people so incapable of taking the historical perspective into account, as well as the far-reaching implications, in order to form a more well-rounded opinion? Is it that we’re incapable, or just unwilling? Is it part of the human condition that, when confronted with something ugly in our own society, we’d rather hunker down in denial than rise to the occasion for change?
  7. This morning, I thought more about that “politics as usual” argument that seems to be so prevalent these days. I mean, it comes up every election season, but this year it’s especially loud. There’s a part of me that thinks people are still stinging from having a black president for 8 years so the thought of having a woman in office is too much and they’re disguising their preference for an old white man in the role as a desire for deviation from “career politicians.” But, you know, good luck proving that. Anyway. It occurred to me that it doesn’t have to be this way. At all. None of it. Like, if we are all so tired of our government, of how things are run, of who is allowed in office, of the stalemates and the blocking of progress and the lies and the finger-pointing and the lack of viable candidates… why don’t we change it? Why do we have to keep any of it the way it is? I mean, who says we have to keep the Constitution, or the government, or the statehood, or a democracy, or any of it? Have we forgotten that we have the power to change and do something different? Have we lost our ability to think so much bigger than we have been? Is it a fear of change, or an inability to dream? Why don’t we just nuke it from orbit and start all the way over? (These are rhetorical, BTW.)
  8. On a completely different note… I switched doctors a month ago and, as a result of the blood tests they ran, it turns out that I tested positive for arthritis. I haven’t met with a specialist yet, so I don’t even know what KIND of arthritis, but at least I have an answer for the joint pain and other issues I’ve been having this year.
  9. The arthritis is just one more reason I want to get in better shape, and get back into the swing of healthy eating. I am carrying about 25 extra pounds of fat that I would like to convert to muscle, at the very least, if not get rid of completely. What I’m lacking, though, is the motivation and discipline to do anything about it. And that’s my question: where does motivation come from? How do you acquire discipline? How do you conjure that magic moment of willingness that converts into sustainable action? I have never been able to figure out what motivates me, other than finally feeling like I’ve had enough of a certain thing/situation/etc., and then defiantly moving in another direction. So, when will enough be enough in this case? What will it take to get me to change? If it’s not the current state of discomfort, or the memory of good health past, or the fear of a more painful future… then what? If it’s not the desire to feel pretty on my wedding day, or the preference for a healthy vessel for human life, then what? And how much of this desire to change is based on an actual medical need vs. me just not being okay with the way I look thanks to societal implications of what’s attractive? Am I being harder on myself than I should be – knowing I have a tendency to do just that? And then, how do you sustain the change once you start it? Is it a moral failing or character flaw if you can’t stick with something, or is that just the normal, human way?

Deep thoughts for a Saturday morning. I think maybe it’s time to put on some Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires, play with the kittens, and get started on some of this unpacking. In our new house. You know, the one with windows that open, doors that close, and room for all of the love. ❤