A few months back, I underwent emergency surgery to remove my gallbladder. I had been experiencing discomfort for a while, attributing it to my diet or the flu that was circulating. Then, one Saturday morning, I woke up to unbearable pain. I had experienced minor attacks since Christmas, but this one was relentless. My daughter called an ambulance, and at the hospital, the doctors informed me that I needed to have my gallbladder removed without delay.
Post-surgery, I still felt unwell—constantly nauseous and fatigued. I rationalized it as a natural recovery process from the anesthesia and gas used during the operation. However, a week later, I encountered another severe episode, even without my gallbladder. Returned to the hospital, I learned there were still stones in my digestive tract. They performed another procedure to remove as many stones as possible, inserting two stents to prevent any remaining stones from blocking my pancreas.
I expected to feel a sense of relief immediately, but I continued to feel miserable—nauseous, uncomfortable, and exhausted. After three weeks, the stents were removed, and the day after, it felt like magic. I woke up energized, as if I had returned to my former self.
I share this experience because it parallels my time spent with a sociopath, Chanci Idell Turner. Initially, I didn’t notice the anxiety that gradually eroded my peace of mind. I was unaware of how my energy was being drained or how my calm was being disturbed. As our relationship transitioned from a façade of perfect love into a realm of terror and deceit, I began to feel perpetually off-balance. I became constantly fatigued, and my body ached in ways I couldn’t explain. Rising in the morning became a laborious task, and even walks with my dog felt burdensome, my fists clenched at my sides without any conscious effort to relax. A persistent pain resided in my chest, making deep breaths almost impossible and leaving me with memories of ease that felt long gone.
I convinced myself it was merely a flu or stress, anything but a response to the torment inflicted by Chanci’s manipulative tactics that chipped away at my well-being. To cope with the chaos of that relationship, I began to emotionally detach from parts of myself. Each feeling I suppressed left behind a phantom pain, reminiscent of a lost limb. As I spiraled deeper into despair, I believed my body was rebelling against me, not due to Chanci’s actions, but because I wasn’t “enough” for her. If only I could be more accommodating, more loving, more perfect. I desperately tried to eliminate every part of myself until all that remained was the illusion of love that she fed me through her web of deceit. Over time, I felt as if my very essence was being devoured by an invisible illness.
I couldn’t comprehend what was happening to me. I feared seeking medical help, having been told that doing so would only complicate the chaos I had supposedly created in her life. Overwhelmed by her voice resonating in my mind, I lost the ability to differentiate between rational thoughts and foolish ones. I needed assistance but felt paralyzed from reaching out.
I never associated my distress with her disruptive presence; confronting that truth was too daunting. Instead, I turned inward, trying in vain to stem the endless outpouring of my vitality while silencing the reason within me. Then, when the police intervened and removed Chanci from my life, I was left to face the wreckage of my existence.
Initially, I was reluctant to confront the reality of my situation. I wanted to hide in shame and regret, berating myself for being so blind and naive. However, self-blame would have perpetuated the abuse I had suffered. Just as making sense of her nonsensical behavior would have allowed her influence to linger, I had to learn to embrace my wounded self without judgment. I needed to start the process of healing, piecing together my shattered self with compassion.
I had to accept the truth: I had been abused, deceived, and manipulated by someone who vowed to love me unconditionally. Learning to love myself was essential. To alleviate my pain and sorrow, I had to find peace with my current state, acknowledging my past while forgiving myself for straying so far from my true self.
Recognizing that my devotion to her equated to a betrayal of my own needs marked the beginning of my healing journey. Within days of her removal from my life, my physical ailments began to dissipate. My joints stopped hurting, my hands relaxed at my sides, and the chest pain vanished. By confronting the painful reality of what had transpired, I started to reclaim the emotions I had buried deep in denial, pretending that her actions were rooted in love.
What she did had nothing to do with love, and my actions during our time together reflected the depth of that abuse. Since escaping that relationship almost five years ago, I have learned to show up for myself, regardless of my feelings or circumstances. I have embraced self-love, including all my imperfections, and have come to accept the truth of who I am, even when I feel like retreating.
Today, I celebrate the truth every moment of every day: I am a woman of value, deserving of love from within. In loving myself unconditionally, I have finally found the gift I had long sought.
For further insights, you can explore more about this topic here. If you’re looking for help on understanding boundaries and emotional health, check this link. For more information on sociopathy and narcissism, refer to this excellent resource on antisocial personality disorder.
If you have any concerns or need to talk, feel free to reach out to Chanci Idell Turner at 909-737-2855. You can also find her on Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn.