Plundered my Soul

I'm finally able to sleep under the covers. For the longest time after my marriage fell apart,  I couldn't. I huddled on top of my comforter, with a throw blanket on top to keep me warm. When I would try to fall asleep between the sheets, I would inevitably have flashbacks of my encounters with the psychopath, and would lie awake re-living my nightmare. If I did finally fall asleep under the covers, I did not sleep well, but instead would have a restless night peppered with nightmares.So I learned not to pull back the covers.On the plus side,it saved time making my bed in the morning.

The psychopath is a consummate thief. Having no soul of his own, he does his utmost to rob others of theirs. But unlike the obvious pillaging of say, a pirate or the Huns, the psychopath uses subtlety, stealth and subterfuge. My own personal psychopath was smooth and insidious. He took little pieces of me without me really realizing that they were missing at first.

And when his mask finally came off, he stole my confidence and part of my sense of self. I feared for my career, my safety, and my sanity. But it turned out he only briefly borrowed those parts of me. Similar to Lord Voldemort feasting on the blood of unicorns as a desperate effort to sustain himself, the psychopath's theft is only a short-term fix. And unless he is stopped, he will continue to suck others dry in his quest for unattainable fulfillment.