Angels in my hair
It was five years ago, that I was sat on a train station and realised with dismay that I had missed the train. I sighed as I realised that the next train wouldn’t be along for at least another hour.
I wandered to the book store at the edge of the railway station, and after picking up some snacks for the journey, I was pulled towards the book department. The books were neatly displayed in sections of topical interest. I felt drawn to the section that had a sign above in bold print ‘spiritual’. It was here that I would buy a book, which would have a deep impact on me.
I didn’t really know what it was that I was looking for, but I did remember that once I was told in spiritual church, that angels will help you to find the book that you need to read. I was drawn towards a book by Lorna Byrne, called Angels in my hair.
After making my purchase at the till, where the assistant smiled warmly at me, I headed towards the train platform, keen not to miss the next train.
The journey to Manchester felt like a long one. To pass the time, I started to read the book. It was March 2010. At this point in my life, I had not met either the Narcissist or the Sociopath. My daughter had died at birth 2 months earlier, and her father had left within days. I was sad, as anybody would be at that time of their life, but I was also still living innocent.
As I read the first few chapters, I knew that this was a book that I was meant to own. The book had a strong impact on me, within the first few chapters, the author described her life, one of a person that from childhood, could see angels. She described a life where until the age of five, she played with a little boy that she presumed was her brother. She watched as her brother often sat on her mother’s lap, while she rested in front of the fire place. Lorna noted how her brother appeared brighter than other people, full of light, but as a small child, never questioned why. Lorna was surprised to learn, at the age of 5, that the little boy she had played with, was not alive, and was actually her brother who had died shortly after birth.
As a mother who had recently lost a daughter at birth, this book struck a strong emotional cord with me. I held it tight, and felt that it was perhaps something that I was meant to read. Maybe it was telling me something, that perhaps there was more to the life than what we see.
I never really read the whole book. For some reason, it was as if those first few chapters, were the important pages, which sent a message to me. My daughter was still around me, even if I couldn’t see her. I returned from Manchester, and put the book safely away in a drawer next to my bed.
I hadn’t thought about this book too much, although the message had stayed with me. It was almost two years later, when the man that I had met, who I thought was the love of my life, moved quickly into my home.
I hadn’t mentioned the book, or its significance to me, so I was surprised, when, after unpacking his suitcases, he approached me, as I sat on the sofa in my kitchen, and said softly, ‘I have something for you, it is a book, I think you might like it’. He held out his hand, and as I looked at the book, I froze. It was the same book. Angels in my hair. He told me how he had picked it up and read it on a plane.
I ran upstairs to check if my copy of the book was still in the drawer, in the bedside table, next to the bed. It was. I looked at the man in front of me, and explained the significance of this book, at that moment, there was a connection between us that was felt, not just in the heart, but in the soul.
Unbeknown to me, this book, Angels in my hair, would diffuse many difficult situations, with the man that I at that point in my life, had no idea was actually a compulsive pathological liar, and a sociopath.
Whenever things became really bad, I would yell ‘STOP, ANGELS IN MY HAIR’. Each time, he would be still, pause, and not always stop the behaviour, but the behaviour would be tamed.
I didn’t know when he handed me that book that a year later, I would begin to write a blog, called Dating a Sociopath. I could hardly believe that datingasociopath.com was a free website, and that somebody else hadn’t taken it. I immediately paid for the name, and began to write. At that point in my life, in February 2013. I knew who he was, and he knew who he was too. We had spent the previous eight months, reading books from the library, researching, watching YouTube videos. My mother even bought me Without Conscience by Robert Hare for my birthday.
Throughout 2013, the sociopath in my life, was probably beyond crazy. He stalked me, harassed me, threatened me, and made my life hell. Not that readers of this site would have known this. The police were called, probably three times a week to my home. No contact didn’t really work, as if I ignored him, the texts/calls would escalate, until he was outside shouting and yelling outside of my home. I was almost evicted for anti-social behaviour. Life was spinning out of control.
I realised that it was pointless, and futile to raise his behaviour with him. So, instead, I would write posts, knowing that he would read it, and hoping that perhaps the message would get through (it was worth a shot, I loved him). This became the foundation of my website. A blog, which was writing to the person in my life, explaining how his behaviour looked to me, and what the impact of his behaviour was on me, and how it made me feel.
The strangest thing, is this. During 2013, I would constantly be locked out of my email, Facebook etc., as he hacked into my accounts. My life was hell, and I lived my life in 2013, as I recluse, barely seeing anyone, and just writing this site, writing posts to him. In a desperate attempt to help him to change. Sociopaths do not have too much respect, as was evident by his hacking into my Facebook, and Email accounts. I had changed my password so many times, that I would lock myself out, as I struggled to keep up and remember new passwords. Yet, despite this, despite that I wrote with honesty about his behaviour, he always respected this website, and would never do anything to harm it.
If ever he complained, (as sociopaths like to be private), I would simply say the words to him Angels in my hair…. And he would pause, and simply say ‘ok’.
Perhaps, this book was just a coincidence, maybe which happens a lot, two people have the same book? Maybe? I do know that I had never mentioned my copy of the book, or its significance to me, before he handed me his copy. I also know, that it is the one connection between us, which has enabled him to accept that I wrote about his behaviour, and would continue to do so.
I often wonder, ‘was I meant to meet him?’ did our time together have a purpose? Whenever things became difficult between us (which was often), I would say the phrase, Angels in my hair, and always he would stop, pause, and rethink his behaviour.
Within ¾ months of writing, I was shortlisted for Cosmopolitan blogger of the year. I was asked to be on Huffington Post Live, twice. Within 2 years, this site had attracted 1.5 million readers in over 250 countries around the world.
This is the origins of this website. A person who was writing to her sociopath partner. It was easier than trying to have a conversation about it. Always he would be angry, deflect, blame me, and say ‘well what about?’… Something irrelevant. I never intended it to be a popular website, although I felt a strong pull to write. I couldn’t stop writing.
In 2014, I gave him another chance, and took him back into my life. In my mind, I wondered, as his behaviour patterns continued, I wondered if I could have him in my life, and write about his behaviour. After all, isn’t that how journalists work? They go to war, to report on war stories. Besides this, despite his behaviour, which I knew all about, I loved him. I was not the Sociopath, with fickle emotions. This was a man that I loved, with all of my heart. Probably, the greatest love of my life. I am the type of woman, who is used to adverse behaviour, I don’t expect perfection. Probably I would be bored with a man, that was perfect, ‘who is perfect anyway?’ Perhaps I liked the challenge. Or maybe I saw something other than the behaviour. There was something about us, some pull, and a connection, that I cannot explain, or understand. It was beyond Sociopath manipulation, and mind control. Of which he did this too. This was a spiritual connection, which was felt, not just in my heart, but in my soul.
We finally split in January 2015. His controlling behaviour had become too much. It hadn’t worked, me writing and being with him. In fact, quite the reverse, it became impossible to write, as he controlled me, and my mind so much, I shut down, and couldn’t write any more. I felt numb, dead inside, and had nothing left to offer, or give. I had nothing to give to myself, let alone anyone else. I sank into depression, and felt terrible, for not continuing with my work here. I developed writers block with this site, and struggled to write here. I have so many posts in draft form, but were never published. I had fear of WordPress that I couldn’t shake off. So, I would write regularly on the Facebook page, but not here.
Earlier this year, I decided that writing was in my past. That I needed to focus on my own healing and recovery, and thought I would look for a job in the real world. I soon obtained a job, and began working with a fantastic team of people. It was great being back in the work place again, as it is isolating, being at home and writing. I really enjoyed it. But in my heart, I was pulled back to writing, and felt that there is work that I still need to do.
I know that this is very long. Many people had questioned, ‘how could I write, and the sociopath know about it and not try to destroy the site?’ the answer – is simply – Angels in my hair.
True story – All rights reserved datingasociopath.com 2015