Well.

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Thank you, Adamantium and Eureka.

I think it's deliberate, the lying, but without much foresight or conviction. My ex-husband once told me that he'd deliberately deceived me at the start, told me what he thought I wanted to hear. Certainly the ongoing deceptions are deliberate, dressed as "subversion"; even my daughter finds it uncomfortable when he tries to get her to do naughty things just to break the rules. (This guy's a child therapist now, mind.) And the ex/friend once went on an extended rant/monologue about some girl expecting honesty -- how, he demanded, could it ever be possible to get a girlfriend without lying? I don't know. Maybe it's justified as defensive. It does go along with the defensive-crouch belief that everyone else is lying/stealing/whatever too, and IME these people can just explode if you just blink at them and say, um, no, I don't do that. Then it's all about how you're judging them, followed by a sort of extended whine about how fortunate you are that you don't have to do these things, but they do. The ex/friend also tried to get me to lie on his behalf -- he was having trouble finding a job, wanted to invent something to cover a gap and asked whether I'd say I'd been his manager at a bookstore. I didn't really react well to that -- the last thing I need, as an employer, is lying applicants in the mix; also, just no; also, why would I put my own reputation on the line like that, given how much responsibility I carry? But, you know, employers, evil because rich so I should lie in solidarity; also, he was only joking but I certainly showed my colors; also, other friend would've done it and therefore loved him better; etc. All of this happened during a vacation I was paying for, mind, and which he managed to trash completely with his moods and nastiness.

I remember discovering that my then-husband owed his first ex-wife $9K. He'd simply decided to ignore the decree. Most of the stories he'd told me about her and what went on in their marriage and career were lies. It turns out that's fairly common. But he'd painted her as a needy leech who'd demanded his help with all sorts of things, and how he walked out broke because he paid for part of her grad ed...not so much.

The one who killed himself also lied like a rug, though he was starting to be honest at the end; his brother filled in some of the rest of the story. But one thing he wasn't apt to do was trash his ex-wife.

I think actually my problem's just in not leaving soon enough. Partly out of fear of hastiness, want to be sure I understand what's happening. These guys also have abandonment stories out the wazoo, how cruelly people have treated them, so if you're dumb and sympathetic you try not to be that person. Especially if there's some element of authenticity in what they're saying. But yeah, most people ditch quickly for a reason. Then it's a big shock -- people will leave you over nothing, you said a wrong string of words, people are horrible....Of course, the one time that I did say 'can't do this, sorry', the guy was dead five days later.

The skills-envy and hatred...yeah, it's about jealousy. And the scorn because, I don't know, they've got some left over after being scornful of themselves. I think this is really what it comes down to, these are guys who detest themselves. The world is divided into allies and enemies.

I get that very bright, talented guys who aren't much for ladder-climbing and toys-collecting take tremendous abuse from the world from the time they're small, especially if they aren't much good at sports. (Ex/friend's brother played football for a top academic university, had letters galore. Ex/friend was not on sports teams and instead got beat up routinely by 'friends'.) I don't find skittishness, wariness, been-abused behaviors all that surprising. Nor depression, bipolarity, AS. I mean it's not a recipe for self-confidence. I don't actually know why I have the self-confidence that I do, and always have had -- it's just that I've always had a very strong, visceral sense of what I've wanted to do, and not seen why I shouldn't, if I was able and people would let me. All sorts of people have found me maddening for exactly that reason -- they've gone years not doing things because they were convinced it wasn't possible or no one would let them, and they made peace with that, and then here comes me and just does it. Or they've slaved for years to be reasonably decent at something and then along comes me to try it for fun and it turns out I'm great at it. And then instead of sticking around for the glory, for which they'd give anything, I'll say, "that was fun, but not really that much fun after all," and abandon it. Never noticing, either, how hard they've worked. It makes people crazy, further demonstration of how the world isn't fair and it's like they're there solely to be the goat. It's not like I can say, "Hey, come watch me play tennis, watch me suck radically," because that apparently doesn't make up for it. Nor does "Hey, come watch me stay up working till 4 am and function like a zombie the next day because I have no choice" because then there's this mopey stuff about how at least I can function and have things to do.

Happiness and support would be awesome. I have trouble complaining, though, because really, I've done miraculously well and been lucky in necessary spots. Am healthy. Have beautiful, smart, nice, healthy kid who clearly has her own engine, and who can go to college without coming out drowned in debt. Have house. Have friends. Have career, well-compensated in money and respect, reasonably enjoyable. Have apple trees with apples. And, after cleaning out my house over the last few weeks, recognize I've got as much stuff as I should need for the rest of my life, more or less. It's also been sort of astonishing to recognize that I have in fact got my whole life here. Meaningful things from childhood, college, early adulthood, grad school, travels and work here and abroad, marriage, motherhood...photos and mementos and recording from family members now long dead, and from their parents...stories told through financial and legal records, stories told as stories, correspondence...and my daughter's whole life so far. Things she made, stories I wrote for her, her various clothes and costumes and toys, school notebooks, diaries. It's quite a lot, even though I thought I'd been throwing it away the whole time.

I've also...and this is new to me...I've realized over the last year or so that I've become an elder, with responsibilities. Young people -- they don't seem so young to me, I don't feel that much older, but I am -- are respectful, and listen differently now, because I know things just by virtue of having been around and done things for a long time. So I have to be a little careful in how I talk to them. But it's like showing up somewhere and being told, oh, over here, ma'am, there's a seat for you, you belong at this table. When I'd had no idea anyone knew I existed.

Oh, I should do some work.

So, is your ex autistic? He sounds like a bit of a jerk either way, though. The business about lying - some people do seem to function that way. I fall for it every time; I'm gullible.
Do I understand correctly that you own a bookstore? If so, that's cool. We only have one independent bookseller left in my city. The big boxes came in and took out the smaller competition. But on-line is such a killer; the prices are hard to beat. Anyway I worked at a bookstore for almost 10 years in the '90s. Best job I ever had.

It certainly seems that way, and though he doesn't much like the idea he agrees.

Nope, no bookstore-owning for me, though I used to work in them. Indies, used, chain, you name it. Can't afford to anymore. The best surviving stores I know are all used (was in Chicago recently and meant to go to Myopic, but never managed it). But it's a totally different business model. The indie new stores I know are just so desperate to survive now that they're aggressive with the handselling, try to turn themselves into community centers, all kinds of things. Actually I have to admit I don't often buy books anymore -- have enough to last me the decade, and I find the stores disheartening. I walk in, am overwhelmed and depressed by the number of books, and walk out feeling that the best thing I could do would be to stop writing. Enough books, enough people jumping up saying me me me, my story, my book, my name.

Yeah, I hope he will too. There's all kinds of resistance but he really needs help with some of this stuff.

The funny thing is how the things I'm okay with change as I get older. There are all sorts of things I won't put up with anymore, but at the same time there's a lot more tolerance in certain areas. I don't think I've ever been involved with anyone as controlling as this guy is -- wanted to control, really pretty closely, the manner and content and timing of all communication; how and when we had sex was very rigid and constricted (and he really had to be in charge, right down to how he wanted me to kiss him), everything about his environment had to be just so, and it was palpable how he had to constrain that impulse when he stayed at my house...you could see it was driving him nuts. He wanted to control what and how and why I ate, how things went at restaurants...and yet I was aware that it wasn't about controlling me, it was about controlling his world. There was this deep sense of insecurity to do with not having any control...and yet he's one of the most aggressively controlling people I've ever met. It just isn't enough, he can't make things safe and comfortable enough. For him. Anything can (and does) wander in and set off all kinds of intolerable vibes. There's fear and panic all over the place. And you know, I get all that. I don't live it, and there are lines I'll draw, but I see it. It's just when we get to the point of "I have to control when and how we're friends; friends means that in exchange for knowing I feel certain things about you, you just do for me and understand this won't be reciprocal" that I have to get off the bus, because I'm not a...service module, or something. I'd come back later, when things are better, but I don't know when there's a "later when things are better."

Is that what it is, do you think? An effort to make people live in one's fantasy world? It hadn't occurred to me. I do remember he once said something very insistent about needing his mother to live in *his* world -- after the usual sort of argument with a mom in which she's Just Not Getting It -- and it struck me as odd.

Actually this is a major problem of mine -- I don't notice other people's anxiety, and it doesn't occur to me (I'm apparently pretty loose, which is surprising to me). So I'll misread all kinds of things that are anxiety-related.

This may be a dumb question, but why did you stay with this man for 9 years? It sounds really oppressive.

That is terrible. I am so sorry to hear you have been through this ordeal.

It's amazing how often I run into accounts of bad behavior by step parents. It's almost like there was real wisdom in those fairy tales after all.

Sounds like your ex has a total unawareness of the separate existences of others. He thinks they are all actors in his world. Just speculating, though.

Given my age, I have been in quite a few relationships, and the viewpoint I now have on whether to continue or not is reduced to this one essential issue (in my view): Is this person a tank-filler or a tank-emptier? Overall, does he drain or enrich your sense of you?

If you want a happier life, hang out with tank fillers, who can give of themselves the things that really matter in great relationships: attention, appreciation, approval, affection, encouragement, acceptance, validation, comfort, joy.. people who support you to be the best version of you.

If you want a miserable life, hang out with tank emptiers, who will give you criticism, envy, competition, resentment, recrimination, spite, backstabbing and who leap on every chance to rain on your parade and use your resources for their own benefit.

It may be that reading this you think that some people are both. They aren't.