Husband, Liar, Sociopath: How He Lied, Why I Fell For It & The Painful Lessons Learned by O.N. WARD

Author:O.N. WARD [WARD, O.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-06T07:00:00+00:00

33. The Question Is Not What You Look At But What You SeeIV

For months, I had to fight the impulse to recoil whenever Paul touched me. Yet, if we did not have frequent sex, Paul’s impatience with me grew even worse. Instead of sharing intimate moments with my husband, I felt like I was feeding a beast. If I did not feed the monster, it would devour me. I had to keep him satiated to keep myself alive. Not surprisingly, our sex life was still not frequent enough or satisfying enough for Paul, so he added this to my growing list of shortcomings, which included: bad gift-giver, poor cook, complainer, incapable of meaningful conversation, lazy, controlling, demanding, and jealous. Due to my broken promise to Paul, he also made it clear that he considered me dishonest and a liar. Who was this person Paul kept describing? Certainly not me! Equally importantly, who was Paul?

While Paul was away, I stumbled across another major withdrawal from our accounts that he had failed to run by me ahead of time. This time he had taken money from our brokerage account. No matter how scared I was, no matter how deflated I felt, no matter what the consequences, this could not continue.

The night Paul returned, I waited until after the kids were tucked into bed, and then I told him I could not go on like this any longer. I did not care what the therapist said. I was sure Paul was having an affair, that he placed no importance on the kids and me, and that he was making key financial decisions without consulting me. I was miserable. Our marriage had to change or end.

Paul denied any inappropriate involvement with Anne-Marie. He launched into a smokescreen of diversion and distractions by telling me that he was certain I was accusing him of having an affair to cover up my own string of infidelities. I know now that it is not unusual for sociopaths to project their own unethical, tawdry behavior onto their victims, but I did not realize it at the time.

“Who with, the mailman?” I snapped. “I hardly see another person. I’m either running the kids around, attempting to keep my own business on life-support, trying to keep the house spotless so we can sell it, doing everything else around the house, because you’re too busy to rake a leaf or shovel a snowflake!”

Paul listed the multiple affairs he suspected me of having—my boss in Minnesota, my dentist in New York, and now he wasn’t sure who it was, but he was sure it was someone. (Notice the attempt to avoid dealing with the issue at hand by attacking my character, putting me on the defensive.) He rationalized the money as just another oversight and would not admit to forcing the monstrosity of a house on me—still insisting that it had been our decision and that I was an adult and could have said “No.”

When Paul refused to acknowledge that any of

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