As for more more more, apparently that is exactly what a love bomber wants you to want and count on. I hate to use that word, because it makes me sound vicitmy and even more lame than I already do.
First, I would like to share that the woman he dated before me, was recently hospitalized after a suicide attempt – claiming the despair of his love bombing and discard were the final straw. I assumed she was crazy and too fragile and unsuitable. He would clearly not ever do that.
Things which are making me feeeel mad at the moment:
For starters, I did not find his profile attractive or compelling, not his picture, not his words. He picked and pursued me. Relentlessly. I literally said NO thank you right out of the gate.
He handled my rejection beautifully with charm, humor, grace, and humility though. So, I was inclined to continue chatting — and then – meet.
He was shorter than I liked and requested in my profile, and he lied (by two inches) about his height which I came to laugh about and forgive and accept because when a person showers you with constant expressions of love in all of the ways, what does height even matter, or religion, or politics? The most thoughtful gifts and generous emotional offerings and direct and repeated expression of a promised future together made me feel a way I had not felt before. What I failed to recognize is that this was a man who will say and do whatever is needed to get the results he desires. I saw this in his interactions with others and thought him so clever and in charge. Not realizing that is WHO HE IS.
His fundamentalist faith, his politics, his hairiness, his necklace, his stupid gun, his very strong southern accent, his sometimes-unfortunate grammar, some of his clothing, his inability/refusal to deliver physically what I begged for over and over.
No no no. right?
He was not what I was seeking and also not who he said he was, but – I was blinded. He literally cast a spell on me. What I did not recognize was that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and it had little to do with me, in fact it opposed all that I openly stated I wanted and needed at this time.
My vision for US was to visit once a week and see where it went, no sleep overs, no trips, active disinterest in marriage or cohabitation. (I said all of that in my profile) I don’t thrive with so much proximity, even to my most favorite people. I am not wired for that.
I accept how much solitude and space I need to recover from daily life on earth. What he heard: Challenge accepted: I will get her to agree to what she clearly has decided and plainly stated what she does not want. This man is an influencer, a rain maker, a leader, a hustler. He shared on our first date, that he is the good kind of narcissist. I have found nothing on the internet or in therapy to substantiate that such a thing exists.
From our first meeting, he blew me up 24/7 with messages of love and ideas for our future together, meals, trips, a home….Literally around the clock, even in the hours of the night when most people were sleeping.
He would occasionally say I am so glad you picked me and I would laugh and reply: I did not pick you, I surrendered to you. I would not have picked him and assumed it was because my picker is broken, and I only know how to pick the most unsuitable and lacking partners.
He gifted me and fed me and improved literally any and everything around my home and yard (without suggestion or request by me). Everything he touched turned to gold (including me, I thought) I treasured our physical expression because it seemed to flow from our amazing soul connection. So, while not offering the physical release and relief I craved, it was beautiful and surely my lack of release and relief was due only to my defectiveness.
I hate the reality and still it is true. He made me feel loved and special and safe and seen for all of the hours, days, weeks, months. I experienced security and trust and then an actual chemical dependence on him. THEN- Without a fight or a conflict, like a switch that was flipped, he retreated.
So first the heartache over the loss of what he made me want and believed we had, then – the shame of knowing this could serve yet as more proof to my family of my unworthiness as evidenced by the results in my life. The secondary feelings are twice as impactful as the pain from the actual wound. This is called secondary trauma. There is the initial trauma, then there is the trauma of how a person is handled and supported and viewed. It has been deeply ingrained in me to believe when a person acts in ways which are unwholesome or hurtful, that I have caused or imagined or earned that.
I absolutely am traumatized by this. Trauma— when an experience or event is too big for a person to process and move past. What is traumatic for one person is often not for another. My trauma response is often characterized by being both adrenalized and paralyzed at the same time. The adrenaline cortisol dump wreaks havoc on my mind and body. No sleep makes it virtually impossible to recover and stabilize.
You told me I was the one you couldn’t live without
And the way that you said it, I believed it like a vow (like a vow)
Maybe I got carried away, and baby, that’s fair
But you can’t call me crazy ’cause you carried me there
The way that you said it, I believed it like a vow
Don’t mean nothing now
We flew to the sun but that high didn’t last
It didn’t work out, I ain’t even mad about that
I’m sure I’ll get over you being gone
I just feel stupid
