Religious Women and Abuse, an experience. The psychology of a Narcissist

03/31/2026

Part 55

I'm sitting in the hospital cafeteria at work having lunch. Suddenly I remembered that awful feelíng when the three of us were somewhere and my ex placed his big ànd heavy hand on our son's shoulder and walked ahead with him.

I followed behind both of them as if I was invisible. That was his purpose, to make me feel invisible, unimportant, like I was nothing. For some reason today I feel the same way!

Here, sitting and looking around at families and couples and children, I sit alone, feeling like nothing.

It is not my ex, I realize. It is my son! After so many years is like his father is still guiding his shoulder farther away from me, from the world of the dead....

Why don't you call him? Good- intentioned people ask. I have, he did not call back.

Why don't you go and see if you can talk to him? Where? All I know is a state, not a home, not a coffee place somewhere where we could sit and talk.

And I am tired of being humiliated! I am tired of bad names and accusations that his father placed in his head when he was still a kid. I will not let him reject me again, at least, not to my face!

But, he is not a kid now, he is more mature. How do I know that, how do you know that?

He has my phone number, my address, he has seen pictures of my new life, of his sister, fifteen years younger.

Long time ago I prayed and asked God to bring him back to me, except if he was like his father, my ex-husband. And I pray to God that doesn't repeat. No, God, don't let my son be like him! Don't let him be like that!

And what a mystery is motherhood! You love, you care, you defend and protect, and the kid never remembers....

03/31/2026

02/23/2026

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Cvt6Bxqi1/

09/30/2025

Exactly like my ex-husband.

Almost every selfish or manipulative person you meet in life isn't a sociopath, but some people take it way too far. Sociopaths have no empathy for anyone, lie without blinking an eye, & manipulate others for personal gain (while feeling no guilt). They may look charming at first, but with time, the...

07/25/2025

Part 54

Moving from a two-bedroom apartment to a dorm room was humbling.
The mini fridge could only hold a limited amount, and in the summer heat of El Cajon, California, the one thing I needed most was water.

Some of the seminary students told me the 99 Cent Store had small items that would fit in a mini fridge, so I went. I felt embarrassed to be there. I believed it was a store for low-income people—those who couldn’t afford to shop elsewhere.

(Please understand: I was unaware that anyone could shop at the 99 Cent Store. It simply meant people were being smart about saving money.)

In my ignorance, I cried. I took it as yet another sign that my life—and reputation—was sinking to its lowest point.

My pride.

Once again, my pride was revealing itself as a major obstacle in my life.

Wiping away my tears, I suddenly heard a voice behind me call out, “Mama!”—just the way my son used to. Without thinking, I stretched my arm backward, instinctively reaching for the voice that I thought was calling for me.

But it wasn’t.

It was another Hispanic boy calling out to his mother.

That’s when the harshest realization struck me:

Who am I, if I’m no longer a mother?

05/20/2025

Part 53

Again, I called my supervisor from Hospice, where I worked as a chaplain, and explained what was happening in my life at that time. Once again, she was supportive.

I was taking psychology classes at Southern California Seminary back then, but due to my personal problems, I had taken a summer break. From that voice I had heard that morning at the hotel, I understood that my next phone call should be to the seminary. It was a Friday, the start of the Fourth of July weekend.

I called in the morning, between patient visits, and left a message for the dean’s secretary, who was my friend, Dianna. I also left a message for the financial officer, Angela, but no one answered. The message was short but specific: “My husband got me out of the house with a TRO. I have nowhere to go for at least six weeks. Is there room in the seminary dorms for me?”

My only mental respite was caring for the spiritual needs of my dying patients, so I worked and worked as if Christ were coming that very day. By 4:00 p.m., no one had returned my calls, so I went to the seminary in El Cajon, CA. The place was deserted, and I found only one person in an office. I asked her what was happening, and she explained that no one was working because of the Fourth of July weekend. She must have noticed my panic when I asked her to call the dean and ask if there was a room I could use for a while. A little while later, my friend Angela called and asked me to come—Dianna had prepared a room for me!

I thanked them. I thanked God. I cried with both gratitude and shame. My mind tortured me with accusations—for in my pride and self-righteousness, I had never imagined that something like this could happen to good people. And certainly not to me.

When I entered the dormitory building, I was welcomed with hugs, words of support, and prayers.

The room was small. It had a single bed, a mini-fridge, and a microwave. It also had a closet and a small bathroom with a shower.
I was safe from my ex, but not from myself.

I'm a petite woman, and in those six weeks, I went from a size 4 to a size 0—the same weight I had been in college before I had children.

12/05/2024

Part 52

I kissed my Shiba Inu dog 'good bye for now' and left. According to the Temporary Restraining Order I would come back to my apartment after 6 weeks.

It was late, and I made a few phone calls.
I was embarrassed thinking how having a TRO against me must look in the sight of others.

At that time of my life I discovered how many of my actions had been driven by pride and not necessarily by humility. Too proud to admit that I was in an abusive marriage! Too proud to be alone and be one more divorced woman! Divorced felt in my heart too much like unwanted, unloved, and maybe even a failure!

The ones that were my friends offered the couch, or the sofa...I needed to be realistic, I needed a place for 6 weeks!

It was a Thursday, and the 4th of July weekend. So, trying to think of a place to go and crying unconsolably, I parked in a road of Hillcrest near my workplace I thought of going inside and sleep in a closet where we kept toys and blankets for the pediatric patients. But I would have to tell the security guard, who would probably feel sorry for me.

I, again, found myself in Hotel Circle and found the best price for a night. I emptied the few belongings I could grab at home from my car into the hotel room. I knew that I could not stay there for the whole weekend for the prices were going up for the 4th celebratios.

Inside the room I prayed, and cried, and thought, and talked to my sister again. Just as I did in April, I explained to her what was happening this time. I could hear the anger in her voice; her desire to save me, and her sense of powerlessness.

I tried reading the Psalms, which I do when I cannot pray, but nothing made sense. The TRO was such a bunch of lies!

I thought of my 13 year old son, who for a while now knew that my ex was trying to separate us. What a disappointment! My baby boy!

I was angry about my ex husband's stunt just to get me out of the apartment and separated from my son, but I was not surprised. I knew now that his evil character had no limits. But my son, the the love of my life. The feeling that I had about my son was different. Such a big sense of disillusion and loss!

I thought it had to be a mistake and made an appointment to see the judge on the coming Monday. I wanted to explain, to clarify, to tell him why the previous judge had left my son in my house with me. I wanted him to give me back my son!

I could not sleep! I didn't know where to go for the next night. In the morning when I woke up I heard a loud thought in my head tell me, "the seminary, go to the seminary". I was in awe of the message and thought that was a great option.

09/25/2024

https://youtube.com/shorts/59hl3PPV3ww?si=mJTA6OqqaCMIWGNc

09/06/2024

The last message I posted while trying to reach my son (14 years after the day described in part 51)

There's a moment when the tears stop because you realize that life has turned different for you, as a mother, than you ever thought it would.
He's gone, and even though you look to excuse him; he was young, he didn't know... Now he's a grown up, a man, and life only changes if we want to change it.
It doesn't matter where we go, we always find the same person everywhere, ourselves.
We need to take a look and see who we are, and choose the path we can live with for the rest of our lives.
One day we'll be alone. The time we wasted doesn't come back. The people we abandoned will also die, and then...we will still be there facing ourselves with an empty journal in hand.
And the question hunts me every day, as a mother, what was my sin? I stayed too long, I trusted, I didn't believe it could happen to me. Well, it did!

09/03/2024

Part 51
On the 1st of July of 2010...

I had told my 13 year old son on the night of June the 30th that I was going to go to work the next morning. My first Hospice patient visit (as a chaplain) was going to take me to Fallbrook, CA, so I needed to leave early in the morning to meet with the nurse and the social worker. Our apartment was in San Diego. I explained to him that the 20 year old neighbor was going to come at 11 am to cook for him and accompany him for a while until I came back from work. Everything was clear, so I thought.

I called my son a little before 11 am to make sure that he was awake and dressed up before the neighbor arrived. When he answered he said that he was already awake and dressed. That alone was a surprise to me.

About half an hour later my neighbor's mother called me to tell me that my ex-husband was in the apartment with our son. Of course, I panicked because my ex was supposed to stay away from my place of residence.

I tried calling my son, but he would not answer, he had turned his phone off.

Then, I called the police. They told me to come back home and they would meet me there.

My neighbor's mom called me again to tell me that my son and ex-husband had left the apartment together. I called the police again, as I started driving back down to San Diego, and told them that my son had left my apartment with my ex without my permission and on a day that was not a visiting day. Again, the police asked me to drive home and call them when I arrived. That hour and half I drove it in a state of total confusion and disbelief. Trying to understand why my son had agreed to leave with him without permission. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought I was going to suffer a heart attack.

When I finally made it home, shaking and not knowing what to expect I called the police again and told them that I was home.

In about 10 minutes the police arrived yelling at me to open the gate, put my dog away, and come and sit down on the sofa. I did so, explaining once again that my ex had taken my son...

They showed me a Temporary Restraining Order that said that my ex was claiming that I had tried to run over my son and my ex-husband over with my car on Father's Day.

I told them that was a lie, but the police asked me to pick up whatever I could in 15 minutes because I needed to leave the apartment.

Again, I tried to explain that I was the person who paid for the apartment which was under my name only. They said that the apartment is for the child and whichever parent had him. The TRO gave my son to his dad without visitations from me until our case was seen in court. The court date had been set for 6 weeks away.

I could not believe what was happening! I felt as if my heart had stopped! I did not cry, I was in shock! I had already seen how cold and heartless my ex was, but I wondered how my son could participate in this?

I took what I could and left, not knowing where I was going.

07/15/2024

Part 50

Three peaceful months alone with my son! Yet, everytime he had a visit with my ex something grew sad inside of him.

He asked me why couldn't he stay some nights with his dad. I explained that both the court and I thought that once he spent a night or two with his father, he would make him stay and not let him come back with me.

My son used to tell me that him and his dad mostly went to eat and then to Dave and Buster's to play video games in the days they spent together.

On Father's Day of 2010 my ex asked me for more time with our son so they could celebrate the day. I said "yes". We agreed that they would be together for 8 hours.

When the 8 hours were done my son was not coming back...nine hours had gone by and all kinds of scenarios were going through my head.

I called the police, they recommended to give them a little while just in case. I did give them a little longer and then I remembered Dave and Buster's.

When I got there, my ex was driving out of the parking lot with my son. I parked parallel to him and told my ex to let our son come to my car, but my ex drove off like a maniac. I was confused and worried. I could not catch up to him and drove back home hoping they would not get into an accident.

When my son got home I was there. I opened the door and asked him for his phone. When he gave it to me I broke it (it was a flip phone). I told him that I got him a phone so I could be in touch with him, but if he didn't answer when I called, then he didn't need it. My son was very upset with me.

I explained how scared I was not knowing if he was ok, or if he was off the USA somewhere.

That night he was nervous saying Dad is not going to know if I'm ok because I don't have my phone. I told him that his dad could call me if he was so concerned.

On the next day, I got him a new phone and repeated that the phone was for him and I to keep in touch and to know that he was safe.