Sharon Reese Chud - Twice Bitten: A Personal Story Of Psychopathic/Narcissistic Abuse And Recovery

ISBN: 9781626750364

Table of Contents

Twice Bitten By Sharon Reese Chud

Chapter 1 Bitten the First Time

I quess I was lonely. I was living in Centennial, Colorado, with my adopted daughter, Lilly, whom I adopted on my own from China when she was two years old. She was now eight. Our brand-new house was your typical suburban three-bedroom home in the top school district in the Denver area of Cherry Creek. It was a beautiful home with all the amenities: cherry wood floors and cabinets, two fireplaces, large closets. I spent a lot of time decorating the house, trying to make it homey so I would feel comfortable. In all the places I had lived the previous 18 years since moving from Philadelphia,Arizona, Southern California, San Francisco, and now Colorado--the feeling of being home had eluded me. Here again, for some reason, I felt like I wasnt home. I didnt quite feel like I fit in. I felt like I was on the outside looking in.

Lilly, on the other hand, adjusted beautifully. She had a busier social life than I did. Her calendar was filled with sleepovers and parties most weekends, while I stayed home alone watching TV and bingeing on popcorn.

This is how it was for me these past 18 years since leaving Philadelphia. At first I lived with my then 15 year old son Ben in Arizona; then by myself in Southern California; then with Lilly in Southern California, San Francisco, and then Colorado. I was working as a sales representative for one of the large pharmaceutical companies. When I wanted to move, which was often, I was able to talk the management into it due to my stellar sales record. It seemed to me that I wasnt able to feel at home in any of these towns out west, which propelled me to want to move and try my luck in other places.

Oh, I sure dated enough all those years, having a permanent membership on Match.com and Plenty of Fish. But for some reason love eluded me. Either I wasnt attracted to them or they werent attracted to me. For whatever reason, I hadnt really fallen in love since I had left Harry 18 years ago. A 50 year old woman with a young child apparently wasnt appealing to most men that age whose children were grown. I was still considered beautiful and spent a lot of time and energy exercising and eating right to keep myself looking that way. I was a young looking 50 year old often mistaken for being in my 30s, with long blond hair and blue eyes. I stood at 55 and was considered slim by most. I attributed my young appearance to the fact that I kept my body toned and in shape with Pilates every day. I had taken a six weekend instructor training a few years back and had purchased a Stotts Pilates Reformer, a contraption that I learned how to use with precision. Not that looking good helped me in my romantic life out west.

So I guess I was lonely. No, I know I was lonely. But lonely enough to start up again with a known narcissist, diagnosed as such by a psychologist both of us saw twice a week for a year? Lonely enough to abandon all sensibility to once again be told how much I was adored and cherished and told how beautiful I was? The defining terminology is was told because if I had paid attention to what Harrys actions were and not what he told me, I would have realized I was not adored at all.

I think back 18 years, when I first met Harry. I was living in Lafayette Hill, Pennsylvania, in a townhouse with my then-10 year old son Ben, and I was single again. I had already been married and divorced twice. My first husband, Mitchell, was a mental case; extremely handsome and smart, but also extremely abusive verbally. Angry at the drop of the hat, he was the father of my precious son Ben. Everything I did made Mitchell angry, so most of the time I tip-toed around the house trying not to wake the beast. When my son turned one year old I asked Mitchell to leave. I couldnt stand being abused like that anymore. I then married Lenny when I was 33 years old. We had a very romantic relationship with a lot of chemistry, but that was short-lived. Lenny had two sons aged 7 and 12, and all they did was fight with each other night and day. Lenny also would get down in the dirt, so to speak, and fight with them to make them stop. It was chaos. I tried to help but Lenny only followed his ex-wifes rules for the children to be consistent, so I had no power in my own house. After a year of this mayhem, I asked them all to leave. But then that lonely feeling set in and I was almost panicking to find a man who would love me for the way I was and that I could be a family with. I looked around and saw so many happy couples and I wondered when my prince would come.

Thats when I first met Harry. I was then forty years old and he was thirty eight. I thought Harry was cute but a little quiet, reserved and somewhat meek for me. He stood a little shy of six feet and was very lean. His best features were his eyes and his smile. His eyes were hazel and dreamy and his smile lit up the room when he flashed his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. You could see a hint of dimples when he smiled, and he smiled often. He appeared gentle in nature, kind, sensitive, somewhat nobleeven aristocratic. He stood a little bit hunched over, with his head drawn down, as if he didnt have confidence. I also noticed that Harrys head and neck were a little stiff and he purposely pinched his shoulders up, as if he needed force to hold his head on his neck. In all, due to his body language, Harry gave me the impression that he was a sensitive soul kind and sincere but a bit meek. He seemed to lack confidence. That was my initial impression. He didnt say much but encouraged me to talk about myself: My childhood, my relationships, what I hoped for, what my dreams were. We talked and walked through the cobblestone streets of Philadelphia, stopping at a little out of the way restaurant for a bite to eat. Harry was sweet and he seemed interested in me. We walked side by side. He didnt try to kiss me, nor did he take my hand or arm. He appeared timid, reserved, perhaps shy. I agreed to go out with him again several times because I did feel so comfortable, and because he did seem so interested in everything about me. Alas, attraction and chemistry are very important to me and it appeared we were not connecting in a physical way at all. So when he called for another date I declined. I said we had no chemistry. We didnt even hold hands after eight dates, I explained. Why dont we become friends? I asked. Now, looking back, I understand totally what Harry was doing during those eight dates. He was standing back, listening and processing my story, my history, my wants and needs, what made me tick. He was assessing my biggest desire. He wanted to become my dream man. Harry was figuring out what that dream man would look like and he was getting ready to deliver the perfect man just for me in a perfect package. He was writing the perfect role for this play and I was his target. Though these traits of the perfect man he would show me in the coming weeks and months might not be traits that naturally belonged to him, that didnt matter. That is what a Narcissist and a Psychopath do. That is what is natural to them. Harry wanted to hook me, and hook me he did hook line and sinker.

Lets try one more date, Harry pleaded. You wont be sorry. I reluctantly agreed. That Friday Harry picked me up at the house and persisted in sweeping me off my feet. He took me to the Schuylkill River where, docked near the University of Pennsylvania fraternity houses, were rowboats you could rent. We rented a boat and once out on the river, Harry opened his prepared picnic basket and spread the feast on the bottom of the boat. Tuna salad, mashed potatoes, fruit, wine and cheese. How cute I thought he was with the unusual picnic combination. I was charmed that a man would go to this much trouble to romance me. He even looked different. He stood tall and seemed confident. He took my hand and held me around my waist. When our picnic was done and it was getting dark, we docked the boat and Harry led me masterfully to his car. I think you are the most beautiful girl Ive ever been with, he said as he swooped down and kissed me tenderly. I adore you. His eyes searched for mine and stared deeply into my soul. My head swooned and I knew I was falling in love with him, and more importantly, I knew he was falling in love with me.