retroactive jealousy

jealousy is a big dirty red flag

first, what is retroactive jealousy?

Retroactive jealousy is a psychological condition where we have a highly-unhealthy interest in our partner’s sexual and romantic life prior to their relationship with us.
http://www.ballardpsych.com

it’s ok to feel a little jealousy or envy. a certain controllable level of it is certainly natural. however, like any emotion, in excess (and hand in hand with its twin brother rage) jealousy can be deadly.

the following species of jealousy was what i was dealing with:

Retroactive jealousy OCD is the most serious manifestation of this condition. Since it is during this stage that violence begins to manifest.
People with Retroactive Jealousy Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder indulge in very unhealthy activities. For example – snooping on the partner’s text messages, following them on their way to work, and hacking into their browser history. You may also deliberately start fights to “trick your partner into confessing”.
http://www.ballardpsych.com

the trick confession was a common occurrence at home with the great manipulator. the act of words having to be constantly placed carefully in the minefield of a psycho’s fucking delusions is something i wish on no one. and it disgusts me that in so many homicides and other violent acts against (mostly) women are still treated with leniency if deemed a “crime of passion.”

no.

in abusive relationships jealousy, in some variation thereof, has been festering in the brain of the perp and/or already reared it’s snarly face some time before. premeditated and reeking of male entitlement. just take a good look at its roots in any male-dominated culture (that would still be the majority of them!) where women have been oppressed for thousands of years in all ways imaginable. look at any religion and the patriarchal faff it spouts. and read this article and the article below to see how far we’re coming along here on the continent.

Switzerland, the “crime of passion” remains in the penal code. The women’s movement arises

getting there, but still not far enough to be leached out of an archaic mindset, and not fast enough. women are dying and men are still being let of the fucking hook for it.

so. getting back on track with the topic of retroactive jealousy and my lived experience with the great manipulator.

his jealousy was right there from the very start, but i wasn’t really aware of what jealousy was, beyond the ubiquitous nigglings in early high school when my friend abandoned me because she decided she liked another friend better. so i’ve never felt what is described to me as the “fire of jealousy” and therefore never quite understood the feeling, nor its deadly potential. i’ve been annoyed that an ex wife was nosying into the marital workings of my ex husband and i; she’d drop by, phone, etc, and just didn’t seem to have installed any decency filter whatsoever. beyond my mild irritation i was curious that she didn’t understand the simplest of boundaries (compounded by the fact my ex was nice but just a bit of a beige pillow of a pushover and didn’t curb it). but i never felt threatened by her presence.

jealousy, whittled down, is all about the threat of being robbed, which implies that the object you’re having big possessive feels over is something you own. your possession. not a free thinking, feeling, autonomous human being.

in my case, i was dealing with a manipulative man from a religious-steeped culture that is renowned for seeing women as less-than in relation to men, and therefore a possession inasmuch as a goat or a motorbike is considered a possession.

he displayed retroactive jealousy…that is, he was super jealous of everyone i had ever been with, living or dead, fling or long term, and he’d shuffle these past relationships like bawdy cards, randomly pulling out a photo he’d stalked on facebook or twitter, photos and messages that were months and years old – often photos unrelated me – to create a day or night of potluck hell with.

at first i had been very open about my life. after all, this guy told me he had been with a multitude of women, was the self-styled sexy traveller guru nietzsche-sprouter of the world. just ask him.

after i realised i’d been “tricked into a confession” and that it was all one sided and that only HE was allowed to be everything including a philanderer, he made it clear that i was the unclean-hearted one that had to be scrubbed pure. he hacked my phone, email, everything he could find to implicate me in my supposedly sordid life before i slammed the lid on the pandora’s box of my being.

during each awesomely fun retrojelly episode, he spat on me, kicked me, and called me a whore, and other colourful things in turkish, and triangulated, having his lackies give their twobobs worth, and every single day i am so very very glad i am out of that hell.

my unsolicited advice to you lovelies reading this post:

jealousy is a huge red flag in any capacity.
if it shows up, guaranteed that, if not curbed or tended to through sessions of therapy (which a narc will never show up in entirety to do), ongoing jealousy will become a problem.

jealousy should never be considered flattering or downplayed in any way, but rather treated with caution, and cut out before it becomes a cancer.

jealousy blinds the perpetrator and sharpens the tongue and is the crazed driver behind vendettas, stalking, violence and cruelty the world over.
it can kill if left to burn out of control.

jealousy is also choice. yep. those fiery feelings that rise up can be doused with the curiosity of “why” am i feeling that – that is, a response, rather than a reaction. easier said than done, takes work, and a narcissist will never take that route because, in their eyes, they are never the perpetrators, always the victims of the horrible life and the jealousy that you’ve caused them.

what resides behind us in the past, including our experiences, places, things, and other people, has all contributed to the rich stew of life experience we each hold, and the story of who we are right in this moment. they are our tales and secrets and vulnerabilities. we owe them to no one else, and only we get to choose who we show this to.

no one has any right to judge the choices made by another, and absolutely no right to cause psychological and physical harm in the name of erasing the past of someone so that they can feel comfortable.

here are some resources.
please take care, and be kind to yourself xx

heal

exiting an abusive relationship is not a clean cut process and each individual’s healing will vary. i’ve posted about this before, but it’s important to underline it often. to remind ourselves that it’s ok to go at our pace, not ever at the speed someone else dictates. there is no rush, no right way or single way through the crap. if someone is impatient with how long it is taking you to process everything, or, inversely, that you’re moving through it all at a rate of knots, then the question must be asked either way – what is in it for them?

healing takes the time it needs to take.
please read that again.

human beings who are in active healing need other human beings who will stand, advocate for, support and hold the fuck on when the ride gets dippy.

healing can ebb and ebb and then surge forward.
in its wake, it can leave a person feel crazy or, on the good days, forgetful enough to motor on through, with a few choppy areas that might slow things down again.

while healing is taking place it can mean the sloughing of ideas, people and material things. for me it can feel like a series of losses on top of everything else already lost, and that at times can throw me back on the shitheap.

therapy is vital, self learning, research and, most important of all, the support from people who have proved that they’re there no matter how ugly things get, no matter how long my healing needs, or what form my hurt takes; people who don’t make my healing all about themselves or how they would do it, people who will never remind me that my no, or my rest, or my frustration is ever an inconvenience to them.

i allowed myself to be vulnerable with a few who knew my story, only to watch with dismay and guilt as they grew impatient with the inconvenience of it all.

the good folk are rare. i hang on to them with the love they’ve shown me. the rest fall away: i thank them quietly for the lesson, for the times they were there, then i wish them well and i let them go.

here are some other resources.
please take care, and be kind to yourself xx

get out, & stay out

when you know, you know.
this is not love. it’s time to stop making excuses. he’s hurting you and love should never hurt. touch should only ever be out of love, protection.

it’s time to unfold one small plan.
tell the medical practitioner. a teacher. find a way to let someone know.
leave safely.

go no contact. block. grey wall. move far away from him: physically, geographically if you can. always mentally.
distance is a forked road. you’ll want to go back because the monster in the house with you is at least a monster you can see. easier, seems safer, but never go back. a year down the track will not be this. if you stay, you will die; he will kill you.

distance is a forked road. his tongue is forked. you are being lied to.
he lies.
he lies.
you were always being lied to. his ex you will befriend will later open to you his library of lies. for now, for you, you already doubt the late night job in the kebab shop. the woman’s jacket he comes home with that he ‘found’ in the bus shelter. he dives into the shower. you still smell her – them – on him.
you lie to yourself because you are gaslit. you fog his words around the edges. your brain’s way of keeping your body alive.

record the rage of thought, note the irk when he touches you. write. everything. down. use code, poetry, recipes. read them. and again. can you see how the lies bleed through like invisible ink over flame, forming patterns between the lines?

the worst you saw is who he is, and worse. he can implore and claw and rage and cry. he will never change. accept that.

revel in this image: him shut outside in the rain.
where all the slugs belong.
imagine him gone.
gone.

reporting the stalker to authorities

for the last two weeks of august my abuser stalked me in person. again. the last time was in june. i’ve made my formal report at the police station this week.

everyone who reports the domestic terrorism they’ve suffered will each experience something completely different. it depends on where you are in the world and how women are perceived there. it will depend on the system in place and legislation. it will also depend completely on the individual officer that you are reporting your abuse to.

this podcast highlights the flaws in the canadian and us systems.

this one highlights the one in the australian system.

and quite surprisingly, the swiss system is a horrendous example that ties in with level of immigration and starkly highlights the need for ferocious integration. read this article by aurelia gurt, published by the university of zurich on the 19th of may, 2019.

stalking and abuse that is acceptable behaviour in other countries and cultures, that is not in the host country, should be grounds enough to overhaul the legal system, before it becomes a legal matter that will be dismissed as too hard.
it needs to be made part of the compulsory language exam taken by every new arrival. women need to be educated on their rights and that they can report abuse without fear of retribution, and men need to experience a no tolerance stance on what is not acceptable behaviour.

i am beyond caring how this sounds: if you don’t like the laws, there are the doors. it has to be that austere.

and christ-on-a-bike there need to be women’s shelters or a safe house in every town. in my brief time there, in a relatively large town, i searched for a women’s refuge. the closest was 15 kilometres away – the local one having not received funding had to close its doors – and, as the abuse was fiercest mostly at the time after the last train had ceased operation for the evening, being on foot in winter wasn’t an option. a taxi to the shelter would have cost me 150 fr.

in many palces in the world, there is a whole shitty mix of things going on with the police – *the* frontline point of legal contact for a woman fleeing a situation that could end her life.

this mix is pretty much a potluck formula:

the officer you get
the colour of your skin
your nationality
your geographical location
your language/articulation level
your marital situation
the support you have at your side*

*if you can have a man at your side, you get extra points. everyone prefers a chaperoned woman, because the man with her can mansplain better.

if you present on your own as a woman, you’re already on the back foot.

in my recent experience here in italy, mid august, the first police marshall i met just made pfft sounds and asked me “why”, mocked my language level (i was so exhausted and distraught i couldn’t speak in english!), and during the interview i got up and walked out in disgust at my treatment. i went home and wrote to a younger sergeant i know, stating that sort of behaviour colluded with the abuser, and little wonder it contributes to the high rates of femicide if women know what they’re up against with authorities who say that they’re there to serve and protect, and they fail, then women stay silent.
this behaviour is not in alignment with the relatively recent and very meaty antistalking legislation implemented and publicised throughout the country. massive education needs to be injected into the system (god, and while we’re at it let’s just fucking smash the patriarchy), but it’s a nuisance, the least of any man’s problems. resources are scant, that i understand. as a woman without family around me, i’d hate to be living in the south of the country. i know precisely where i’d stand there.
i wasn’t going to be ‘shown my place’ here.

my cage rattling was taken very seriously and, after the showdown between my stalker and my chaperones below my window the other night, and for the previous two weeks of his following, walking around the back of the house, watching me, waiting for me, sending messages, ringing my doorbell, not heeding my repeated “no, fuck offs” – i called the police again.

i booked in for an interview last monday with the marshall from another town who specialises in dealing with domestic violence and stalking, and then again wednesday.
the difference between my first and subsequent experiences of interviews was stratospheric. what a wonderful, patient and helpful human being. he never asked me why, i stayed, why i went back, i never once felt judged, he never huffed through his nose, never rushed me, and, after the hard part was over (5 hours over two days) he was kind without being condescending.

it pays to keep reporting, and write everything down, the more detail better: time, date, what was said and done, and where. take photos of bruising and marks and keep screenshots of messages as evidence, and store these elsewhere (i emailed mine to a secret email address).  most importantly, if you it’s available to you – and i know isolation and lockdowns don’t help – register with a women’s shelter or anti violence advocate. each time a report is made against your perpetrator, it is registered with the authorities. if you’ve sought help with an anti violence centre, your case is taken even more seriously and they can advocate for you legally as well as provide you with access to professional assistance, transport, temporary safe shelter, housing, children’s services, therapy, and a range of other resources and services depending on where you are located.

here are some other resources that you or someone you care for may find useful.

please take care

black magic & blame shifting

in the last two years i’ve heard all the excuses in the book with no accountability taken for appalingly bad behaviour – including black magic and the evil eye as the cause of domestic terrorism.

the blame shifting narcisissist will leap from moments of seeming accountability and empathy (known as cognitive empathy and never to be confused with actual empathy that normal human beings like you and i feel), but the moment it becomes obvious to them that this hooking or hoovering technique isn’t going to work with you anymore, they’ll go right on back to the status quo of blaming everyone in the world for their problems and their shittiness. an example of that kind of circular convo (before i went no contact) goes as follows:

the great manipulator: you left me under the rain, you left me waiting, i came all the way from switzerland for you.
me: you beat me up, so i left you. you came uninvited, unwanted, and with explicit instructions to never speak to me again. what you’re doing is called stalking.
tgm: yes but i did it for you! don’t you know that it was black magic that caused this?i explained it to you. in my culture there was the evil eye put on me, hanging my psychology
me: what a load of shit. go away.
tgm: i did everything for you. you don’t remember any of the good times! you gave everything to everyone else. i spent my last franc on a jacket for you.
me: no one asked you to do that.
tgm: but i said sorry! i’ve changed, and you never believed in me anyway! you never trust me! you don’t see what i do for you.
me: that’s because you were violent with me, abusive, controlling and manipulative.
tgm: but you made me do it. you deserved it, you were being unreasonable.
me: i stood up for myself. i don’t accept your behaviour. i left.
tgm: you should have known what i wanted!
me: what? you don’t even know what you want!
tgm: yes, but you should know for me. if you are part of my life, if you really loved me you would have known….

…and round and round without end.

this is why going no contact and grey-rocking is vital. ludicrous conversations with excuses and justifications such as this are designed to wear down the partner. it’s maddening. every answer is a reaction to the provocation instigated by the narc. the only way to deflate the argument is to let them rant, without response. harder to put into practice the first time, but it does get easier with time and practice.

here’s what i learned:

arguments fuel the narcissist. don’t refuel them – you’re already on empty with them. reserve your energy.

don’t buy into the blame shifts – let them rant. let them think they’re right. they’re going to think that anyway.

don’t defend yourself – their behaviour (or that of others they bring into the blame game) is no reflection on who you are. ever. they’re using your vulnerabilities against you, blaming you for the reason they are the way they are.

you’re not going to change their mind. ever. who you are seeing in front of you is who they truly are, and what they are blaming you and everyone else for is how they see the world. that is, the world owes them and they are the victims of its injustices.

a narcissist is a giant two year old, wheedling and sweet when they want something and throwing a tantrum when they don’t get what they want. and what happens to a tanty-chucking two year-old? if you try to reason with them, things escalate. if you let them fizz and kick on the ground they usually burn themselves out quickly.

having said that, however, if the narcissist in your life is a violent malignant one such as is my experience, who continues to harrass no matter what, don’t minimise the fact that you are in danger. don’t allow others to minimise that you are in danger. you will need professional and legal support to guide you through this and to protect you, and having friends and family around you who can commit to educating themselves alongside you is vital.
please visit the resources page for more.